Short Wouldst Poems
Short Wouldst Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wouldst by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wouldst by length and keyword.
Can a human heart contain
such love divine,
Wouldst Thou come to dwell within
this heart of mine.
(copyright 10/30/15)
Oh, that thou wouldst come to Me,
In lowliness, on bent knee,
What rapture then would fill My Heart,
What grace to you I would impart!
Young Shakespeare didst say to his tutor,
"Methinks I wouldst be much astuter,
And per chance, I wouldst say,
Mightest write a screen play,
If some fool wouldst invent the computer."
validate
your
love
who
am
i
what demand have you
question me not of madness
as though mine eyes wouldst
stare momentarily
into intimate
infinity
stare
with
me
from above
validate your love
?
Gramercy of this aroint,
doth she come?
Sirrah crown cries well met,
doth she come?
Ye wast in a hurry.
Aroint! Thy heads were seel.
Aye, thou art nay dispatches.
Aye, thou art woe.
Thou wouldst be dead.
Hark now hie!
Hark now hie!
I walk along the river bank this day
And you’re with me
We talk about nothing of importance
Just you and me.
Our time together is most wonderful
For you love me.
If thou wouldst always walk with me through life,
I’d be a blessed man with caring wife.
I walk along the river bank this day
And you’re with me
We talk about nothing of importance
Just you and me.
Our time together is most wonderful
For you love me.
If thou wouldst always walk with me through life,
I’d be a blessed man with caring wife.
02/23/2017 (55 words)
Wherever thou may goest,
Be it worthy unto the Holiest
Of the Holies, or in worship
Of thy greatest adversary
Whom we shan't name,
May thou walketh by the
Very soles of thy feet and
The very bend of thy toes.
Wherefore wouldst thy walketh
Upon the palms of thy hands
And complicateth thy journey?
Wouldst thou lean ye summer blaze generous
thoust wilt naught as sea douse thee
cooly soaked ... or wake up
Wouldst in yawning amidst kerfuffle cord
freed in time broadcast air
curtain's [drawn--(saddened face]--rain)
Yea nay to sun, nay yea to rain but then
yea nay to work, still again
nay nay to fun ... that's life
On a hot spring afternoon, a wet postman
Hurries down the sidewalk home.
I catch him stepping on a new white iris,
And were I not alone, I would but
Scold him, but I would not, instead,
I wouldst hand him a cold coke for his dripping head,
Then pat him on his shoulder and pick up a dropped letter,
On this unseasonably hot afternoon.
Doth thou Parle the night's
Vastidity?
Wouldst be thine haver of thy
Uneyed, thought-sickness strewn umoving
Travels?
Ratherst, it be that, it is thine
trade-fallen quarters; thine debt as
the Militarist is mete by the
Languish bestrewn on thine epochtic mind.
The morrow breaks...
I adorest thee my darling,
So much more than I can say.
If I but had Will Shakespeare’s pen
All my love I couldst relay.
Thou art the beating of my heart,
The sunshine of my day.
And if it couldst but win thy hand,
Fierce dragons I wouldst slay.
Thou hast taken all my senses,
Love hast made me indiscreet.
If thou wouldst be my Valentine,
My pure joy would be replete.
1/24/13
If only there were…
more yesterdays
Instead there’s
Far too many todays
Not nearly enough
Tomorrows (to my sorrow)
But such is the
World’s surly ways
T’would be of interest to see
How the world could be
Should there be
But a few less todays
T‘would it be
A far different place?
Wouldst exist in their space?
Just a few more tomorrows
…and Yesterdays…
Is the distinction between
science and philosophy
nothing but
illusion
Affirming what it wouldst
certainly and firmly most deny
Proponents of formulaic truth
require a defense against critique
judgment unrelenting
as their proof is self-inured
Science thus infallible
because its findings are collective
Their community not disposed
to answer
questions they will
— never ask
(Amtrak R5- February, 2025)
Oh Lord, wouldst thou abandon me
my dirty hands besmirched with tears
trembling ‘mid a tortured truth
encased in walls of man made fears.
Would you pass judgment on the man
denuded of his soul
condemn the pieces of his life
denying he is whole.
Oh Lord, recant this heresy,
forgive such men their failing sight
do slowly in their darkest hour
lead them through the angst of night.
©9/18/2019
Write a Psalm Poetry Contest
Regina Riddle sponsor
Could I hold your hand in my rough callused own
Walk you through soft Summer rain
Hold you so closely my nostrils explode
In joy so exquisite it’s pain
Wouldst care to go dancing on beaches of sand
Splashing in ankle deep surf
Close eyelids so tightly the red glows and clouds
And dream into softness of safe
We’ll travel together in dreamland of sight
Holding to pleasured delight
Winter wet wonders are yet to unfold
It’s not nice to be lonely at night
Saturday, wouldst be Sadder Day
nineteen seventy-five
purple skies dusk twilight display
friend and I, still alive
Sleepyheads, car seats unbuckled
Russian roulette enroute
shut eyes refused a wakeup call
rabbit foot wore a boot
Squirming confirming not our time
go get out while you can
opportunity just-in-time
two tired souls and more than
Clueless me, whys and wherefores
reveal relevancy
this, that, and all those therefores
transcends generously
.
He Wears a Blue Hot Uniform
On this unseasonably July hot afternoon,
The wet postman with weary steps, trods down the sidewalk home.
An ill-clad lady caught him crushing her lingering white flowers,
And though she was annoyed, would not
Scold him, but, instead,
She wouldst hand him a cold cloth and water for his dripping head,
Pat him on his shoulder, pick up a a dirty dropped letter,
And then retreat into her air-conditioning.
On this unseasonably July hot afternoon.