Short Woodsmoke Poems
Short Woodsmoke Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Woodsmoke by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Woodsmoke by length and keyword.
maples
drape long alleys
woodsmoke-scents stir crisp air
bright leaves whirl down on musty ground’s
carpet
SCENTS OF AUTUMN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
crisp air,
woodsmoke gently curls,
leaves of cinnamon and spice,
earth breathes deep, a musky, sweet grace,
autumn.
Vital fluids slowly drip
into the bucket below.
Caught in
black and white landscape
of trees, snow and shadow
in the early dawn.
our breath forms clouds
but breathing in
we smell woodsmoke
and new maple syrup.
Surely the sweetest
sign of spring.
Ode to Tofitian Rain
What is in Tofino rain
that makes it smell so sweet?
A blend of berries, a certain strain
of sea salt, fog and peat
it smells of woodsmoke, tangy fir
and kelp washed up on shore
it smells of bitter evergreen
and dampened black bear fur,
blackberry wine that I just poured
and roasted coffee bean
it smells of maple, honeycomb
it smells of earth
it smells like home.
Last night's grief was filled with a serene dawn.
Woodsmoke and scalded spices flood the air.
The darkened sunlight disclaims treads the lawn.
Last night's grief was filled with a serene dawn.
Its frail hand yet brings in a shift of fawn.
A dream, like a toenail, is a brief dare.
Last night's grief was filled with a serene dawn.
Woodsmoke and scalded spices flood the air.
Written: February 26, 2023
Vital fluids drip
into the bucket
below.
Corn snow underfoot
a stark landscape
black and white
trees, snow and
shadow.
In the early dawn
our breath clouds
and the air
smells of
woodsmoke
and new maple
syrup.
Surely
the sweetest
sign of spring!
.
______________________
A new month, won't be long now.
Gliding down amber, leaf strewn lanes
Her wild hair flowing in golden tones
Goddess of Autumn awakens again
To soothe the sound of Winter’s pain
She lingers in woodsmoke of promises made
Where trees are shedding their Summer shade
She paints their green with a crimson tinge
Beside oaks that stand all acorn-ringed
Her voice is whispering in every glade
Her frosty eyes and spicy smile
Her ragged, leaf brown rustling gown
Her brisk, bright essence floating down
It was in Autumn 's signature
the smell of burning leaves
that I succumbed to
distant drums
And bartered to believe.
Woodsmoke circled round
and round
to show your misty form
you kissed my face
with love and grace
and told me not to grieve .
Upon the hill a wolf pack
howled out my secret name
I shaped replies
in cryptic cries
and begged you not to leave.
You are the wind in winter
I am the Summer sky
the pain is sweet
we never meet
except in dreams we weave.