Shyness Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Premium Member Suffered Shyness

Wait on my reply,
I suffer from being shy.
What does that imply?
Don’t kiss and tell,  I may die!
Just laugh and cry, just laugh and cry.
Still I should give us a try.
So..you wanna come by?

Premium Member I'm at the entrance of you

I'm at the entrance of you,
and I don't know what to do.
I don't know where to begin
to try to find my way in
without making a disqualifying miscue.

Premium Member Romantic Love

*"Romance is the glamour which turns the dust of everyday life into a golden haze." — Elinor Glyn
************************************************************

                                          
                                          Romantic Love


                     Glowing like the dazzling distant full moon
                         And gifted with a sincere spotless soul,
                   With her heart like spring flowers in full bloom
                 She shines with sparkling smiles like refined gold.

                    She ever tweets like a charming sweet dove
                         To express the depth of her inner feel
                      And sincerely sings solemn songs of love
                    From the very depth of her heart with zeal.

                   Though imbued with a soft tinge of shyness
                     Yet, her image fans the wings of my soul,
                        Dispels dreary darkness of loneliness
                      And ever renders me a complete whole.

                      She is and shall be the cause of my life
                      Until the very last breath I shall strive.


Childhood Love

Childhood Love (Villanelle)

I remember that glorious day when we were young,
We played together and danced through time and space,
If only I expressed my loving thoughts with my tongue.

Our childhood love was written on the pulse next to the lung,
Your eyes shone, dazzled and glistened with grace,
I remember that glorious day when we were young.

You stood by the gate next to a paddock filled with dung,
My fearful state didn’t want to be kissed in your embrace,
A twelve year-old didn’t know what to do when love’s phone rung.

It was amongst the summer trees and by the river where we hung,
Even in the face of fear, I still loved beholding your pretty face,
I remember that glorious day when we were young. 

I wonder if the birds noticed, their mouths chirped and sung,
It was as if time slowed because life happened at a slower pace,
If only I expressed my loving thoughts with my tongue.

Love can hurt and cooler guys pursued you; my teenage years stung,
Throughout your years I wondered if in your heart if I still had a place,
I remember that glorious day when we were young.
If only I expressed my loving thoughts with my tongue. 

By Scott Beattie

The Propsal

Through a wild valley 
We wandered 
Slow...
Except for our breath 
I , all to myself
In a panic,
Less frightened
By what would be called
Death.
My companion- 
Is likewise , too nervous, 
And panting in "secret"
Dismay:
And now I know
We are lovers, 
Abashed, shame-faced
In the heat of
An expectant day. 
He, in all tune to my thinking
Has gently taken my hand, 
Thus taken,
Quivering and silent, 
We in love wandered
Through the wild land

Shyness is a Flower or a Squirt Gun

Not sure yet, I slowly turn to the sound of a familiar voice. 
Yours maybe?
It has been three years since the social dance of co-workers and mingling - inevitable small talk. 
Three years ago, this was a not so foreign path. 
Is it too much all at once?
These long office corridors can be home
versus the long, dreadful, hours spent at home
the winter months are not the worst - June, July and August are the culprits.  
They drag - like an old train chugging past. 
Whistling in the wind.
My life is not a rundown railroad train.
dodging my own shadow, I spent what seemed like lifetimes, watching the sun slouch across the carpet.
Seated at a round table, they laugh in the crowded cafe. 
Alert yet apart, I will blend in like a chameleon, like a flower in a vase I will arrange myself to bend with my fellow flowers. 
We will all bloom and it will all be glorious.


Shyness

The moon’s cheeks above
turned red like a pretty rose.
The star winked at her.

Special Feeling

They're yours
For you
Don't dartton
You're draiuve

Sure you
Pure flai'he
Come S'arken
You're crasei

Faith and Hope Overcome Dyslexia

Can't tie shoes. Can't read aloud. Can't memorize Latin.
IQ test, panic, shyness. Confidence goes missing.

A corner turned. Ask, and you will receive.
College, city planner, romance, graduation.

Paradise lost. War drums. "You are hereby ordered to report."
Fear and dread. Grab your guns. Invasion.
Many rockets fired, crashing all around.
Deliverance! Cheers on homeward flight abound.
"Baby killer! How justify?" Keep it secret. Don't fit in.

Ask, and you will receive. It all comes together.
Grad school, true love, and a career.
Wedding bells, children, grandchildren. Blessings astound.
Retirement: Spanish, softball, world travel. All a pure delight.

But time speeds up. No, we slow down. Sunset and aging.
Microsoft 7, 10 and 11.
Accounts, passwords, applications.
Patient portals, lab tests, hospitalizations.
Masks, shots and Covid-19.
Can't keep up. There's no time. Trouble remembering.
Anger, self-doubt, then frustration.

Ask, and you will receive. Rescued again.
True love comforts. Eternal Love sustains.

Some People Call Me Prof

Some people call me Prof
But with laughter round it off,
Some garnish it with cough;
Their loyal but amused hats doff;
Better than to at me scoff…

The most shy cease to be coy,
The heart cruel games would buoy
Shyness in any case some ploy
By he who could with another toy:
By some Ray about to cajole a Roy;
My Prof Nickname, a delicious noise
By a false eulogizing voice
That soon connects a sneeze
Men flee from with “Gees?”

Premium Member Shyness

Shyness
An asset or a curse?
I wear it on my cheeks in the form of pink blotches

Shyness
Something to revere or overcome?
I keep my voice silent, while loud angry ones speak

Shyness
Does it have to do with personality or self-worth?
I ask myself this question internally, keeping quiet.

Premium Member Shyness

Shyness! 
I professed to be pardoning. 
I was advancing in seeing an astute man. 
There may, in any case, be different perplexing concerns. 
What else? the heaviness of the breeze all over my face.
Furthermore, the inertia leaves mud scars. 
Moreover, my heart is blurred. 
Is your conduct alike mine? 
Bow her head, she said. 
I believe you're insane. 
Love your warmness.


Written: September 8, 2021

Premium Member Shy Me

SHY ME

I long to be free
From cages in me
That hold me tightly
Can't try to pretend
To be unfettered

I long to love
Sweet mourning doves
Playful coo blissed
To open heart’s kiss

I long cause
I'm alone
And have pause

To be
Freely

Me


January 8, 2021

A Diminished Hexaverse Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger

Premium Member Unlikely Coronation

shocked befuddled and dumbfounded a crowned miss congeniality



AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2022

Submitted on September 6, 2020 for contest MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE MOMENT IN HIGHSCHOOL sponsored by JCB BURL  -  RANKED 1ST
(I was shocked when this really happened to me in grade 12)

Shyness Is a Disease

Shyness is a Disease

It happens without warning,No symptoms,No signs.
I wish it were something i could control!.
It always seems to stop me dead in my tracks,Unable to put words together,
I feel fear seeming to be unsure of saying the wrong thing or sounding silly or to be taken the wrong way.
Once the conversations starts to relax and starts to flow the fear subsides.
But i always have trouble starting the ball rolling,this is why i agree shyness is a disease as a cure is always close at hand in the way of a friendly hello or the initiative of others breaking the ice for me.
Shyness is a disease.

Damian L Hunt
2001

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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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