Sisters Poems - Poems about Sisters

Sisters In Poetry

Two sisters born afar from my terrain
one rising near Taj Mahal ‘s glorious dome ,
another hopping on lanes of maple trees;
still, poetry traces their heartfelt rays
enduring continental divide
like silken wishes on angel cheeks
plying on a relay of starlit skies...
One a sweetened Jasmine utterly
devoid of night's umbra, ohh the other,
a peppered Cinder sizzling with 
the sun's

what kind of sisters are they

both of them knew their sister was dying
neither of them called or contacted her
holding a grudge
while she was dying?
their own sister?
what kind of women are these?
the selfish kind

The Art of Blaming You

i wonder if my sister is aware 
she’s the reason i lost my muchness
it’s like i don’t want to be loud anymore
i want to be like a whisper 
or a gust of wind

i want to be quiet and go unnoticed 
so bad that i tip toe 
and hold my breath 

maybe because i approached it

Save Our Native Sisters

I as Cherokee must take a stand,
  and say no more missing females from Native lands

Too many have gone missing through the years,
  Along with too much sorrow and tears

I along with my Native sisters must stand and fight,
  Along with our brothers to do what's right

I will shed my blood if

Sisters

My sisters stroked my girlfriends hair
Saying lovely hair
Then both of them went into
a cupboard under the stairs
Like something a la Burton

Sorry my ex-girlfriend

I am ashamed by my country

Where do you hand in your documents to leave the human race

Glad you enjoyed space
Cause everything is melting
Watch you don’t burn your lips
on the earth

Trump I mean really

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

            HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
(Apropos Of Mother, Aunts, And Our Sister)

God not only gave us Mother,
He also gave us her Sisters, too:-
All praises be to God for giving us
Mother Dear, her Mothering Sisters,
And our beloved elder Sister, too:
Happy Mother’s day to them all;
Resting together with

Twin Sisters

Somedays Loneliness comes alone
Other days with her twin sister
As Emptiness she used to be known
They both sit back and talk in whispers
And they’re invisible, that’s the major nuisance
So you can’t say to them off you go
And they can’t stop talking their nonsence
About the good old times they used to know
And they joke and laugh in

My Sisters

My sisters are my pride and glory/
An endless legion, woven into my story/
Our bond defies the boundaries of space/
A sacred connection no vastness can erase/
I dwell in shadows, a soul of the night/
Yet their love surrounds me, a radiant light/
No judgement do they cast, no fear do they bring/
In their embrace, my heart takes wing/
To

Sisters

Ages past, the words that caused the rift
still, today, so far apart they drift.
As time recedes, old memories fade
bitterness remains their raw charade.
New slights imagined, old stories told
so, in icy cold, they both grow old.

My Three Sisters

How blest I am to have three,
My beautiful siblings be!
They have traits of our mother
Yet unique to each other

All gifted beyond compare.
Of music and wit and care
Compassionate, loving too.
All have virtue, through and through.

While they are away, I pray
That soon I will come their way
And embrace them once again,
And fondly remember when-

In childhood or later

girl-world

Over the holidays, I was watching Lisa’s sister little Leeza, she’s 14.
She has a rebellious fashion sense and a joyful innocence.
She’s still fearless too, and on-God, I hope she never loses that.

Too soon though—the disco’s coming to town—the world’s coming for her. It’s the same for all of us, I suppose, but in Lisa and

Leeza and Santa

I heard the door open. It was Leeza (Lisa’s 14-year-old sister),
she’d been out on a date. I was the only one in the living room
as she came in and sagged, dejectedly onto the huge, white
sectional couch, right next to me. She looked positively
deflated. Which is unusual because up until now,
she’s been all freckles and smiles

Ok,

Dark Juane

Sandy sat staring down at the cracked photoed frame. Two little smiling princesses playing in the mud. She loves traveling in her dreams, imagining glowing and bickering in Juane's sweet sweet nectar as in the framed photo.

But the hornet came buzzing, bringing forth a reality of pain She knows not if Juane was more of

Frost and Her Sisters

She appeared in the middle of a snowflake
Most could not see her, but the fey always can
She flitted around the white snow sprinkling pixie dust
It began to glisten, as twinkly as fifties sequins
Where were her sisters? Had they not arrived yet?
They were along shortly, sprinkling around white glitter
When they were finished the snow had a

Sisters

Two Sisters
last of tribe
visit

• Short Sisters Poems
• Famous Sisters Poems
• Best Sisters Poems
• Read Sisters Poems
• Long Sisters Poems
• Sisters Quotes