Short Windowsills Poems
Short Windowsills Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Windowsills by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Windowsills by length and keyword.
curious little humans
attacking flies in mid air
tapping the air with tiny paws
sitting on windowsills
watching birds
Peering though their windowsills
Their diamond studded eyes glaring
wicked laughs whispered as I pass them
heeled sandals strapped Black
and leather combat boots
gleam and glow in sarcasm
never to be approached, unless custom made.
I welcome the silence of falling snow
the virginity of pure crystalline flakes
gathering to frost my windowsills
But I watch while snuggled beside a fire
a cup of cocoa and soft rock playing
A warm hand to hold is all I need
many daffodils
beautiful on windowsills
narcissus appeals
one yellow divine
single or double refine
purist flower mine
dainty and sublime
standing hours at a time
waving in their prime
*For Carol Browns "What's The Buzz" Haiku contest
Tulips fronting daffodils
Azaleas in pots on windowsills
Rows of rainbow chrysanthemums
Mingle with orange geraniums
Bright pink peonies ready to pop
A bird of paradise sits on top
Still ~ Red roses always make my day
Arrange them in a sweet bouquet
I have been waiting without knowing,
my breath curled like a child
in the wardrobe of my lungs.
I have been waiting,
my hands resting idly on doorknobs, windowsills,
on the blankets of a bed still made,
staring at the bright, young globe of the sun,
staring without hope.
Perched in a leafy tree
sipping on poetry
eyes trained on rolling hills
toggling ‘tween windowsills
points of vantage as yet unimagined
heretofore ne’er examined
Dare one say ‘the thrill is gone’
~ leave him listless lie on languid liquid lawns
golden beams of dawn
are glinting amber prairies--
smiles of daffodils
enchanting day break
are red, white, purple tulips--
pride of early spring
waltzing lilac winds
charm violet hyacinth--
gems on windowsills
June 4, 2020
Placed 1st: Fresh Traditional Haiku by JCB Burl
Placed 2nd: Brian's Select 5 Contest
Blackout
I sit in a blackout
What can I do
Wind is a howling
The rain's angry too
Windowsills rattle
High up on my floor
I live on the seventh
And hear every roar
I'm starting to find
A still quietness
Mixed with a thunder
Of solitudeness
I sit in a blackout
What will I do
I'll sit here and bask
In my gratitude
Bill MacEachern December 18, 2023
This week, snow is expected in the hills
A bitter cold Halloween like I remember
Thinking about it gives me the chills
Mostly the looming winter heating bills
It’s time to caulk up the windowsills
Against a blustery, blizzardly November
This week, snow is expected in the hills
A bitter cold Halloween like I remember.
Written October 16, 2022
Crystal sands,
eager fingers digging,
bounty from the shoreline carry home.
On display,
gracing my windowsills,
dancing 'round with the sun's reflection.
Exquisite,
ridged in sea tones and hues,
every nuance bears the froth of tides.
Memories;
each one tells a story
of adventure sought,of life and love.
By Deb Wilson
for Nette Onclaud's contest "Paralellogram de Crystaline"
We talk small in big spaces
Leaving the words around us empty
helium balloons floating
Wasn't my voice atmospheric
It's disappearing into the clouds
My muffled thoughts, my meaningless mumbling
Enter the room before me now
lagging emotions left in the windowsills
The sighs escaping my lips etching their homes in the fog forming on the glass
Vanishing quickly
these fleeting feelings
And me always dragging behind
Succulent lined windowsills
Coffee seasoned air
Crimson colored daffodils
Home, rich of boho flair
Silky, velvet, puppy tails
Pup breath to peer the vibe
Pleasing sights, delightful smells
Assure me, I’m alive
A familiar lilt, treats my ears
A melody, so fine
Hushing all my pesky fears
All demons left behind
A joyful state, my happy place
Curled tightly, in a ball
There truly is no other space
I care to be at all
With lilting tongue and glittering eye, the Celtic potter chortles by.
His clay-browned hands delicately placing, kiln God's on shelves and window facings.
Minute figures of Sun and Moon, mystical men with beard and rune;
sheep wandering on grassy hills, all on clay placards for windowsills.
And tossed about through roof and rafter hung, pink and purple, from pilasters,
were all the glorious flowers' of Spring, saved, dust covered, on dangling strings.