Her Star Poems | Examples
These Her Star poems are examples of Star poems about Her. These are the best examples of Star Her poems written by international poets.
Hollywood casts its new shooting star
Opulence follows the tale
Larger than life lifestyle sits on green gables
Larger than life ego sips from golden goblets
Yearly excursion to the plastic surgeon
Whirlwind romances blow
Overseas to cease and desist two diseases
Oil of olay won't save the day
Dingy can't find a safe port
Hollywood's new shooting star shot with penicillin
An arrow a day keeps the shivers from quivers away
She still swears he gave it to her
Both attend the press conference with lawyers
Exuberant fans become ex-fans
Except when cutting red ribbons at fastfood takeout stakeouts
Nobody notices the smell for weeks
That summer night air forgot to
breathe, I forgot something too.
Not sure what, but I remember:
a star landed in the curved moon
—I saw it in the reflection
of my steaming apple tea
I remember wanting to
tell you, I witnessed a celestial love:
A lone star found her place
rested in the crescent’s embrace
I thought you’d love the story, a love
defying geography. I wondered
if you were seeing what I was, if
our gazes collided
above the thin cotton clouds. I giggled
thinking perhaps it’d count
as a date. I remember
I heard you, in the barely
flowing air, your voice a hushed ghost
I tried to keep you, so
I put light between my fingers
In the wispy gray, you sounded
a little more present, defying
our past and our future—
The stale smoke
smelt nothing like you, but I
remember how it loomed around me
that night, and we watched
In the reflection,
moon and star, until
ripples swallow them into dark auburn
2 men i called Grandpa acting like a Dad when a man walked away
Never batting an eye they'd be there for us everyday
One was out spoken and never left something unsaid
Other kept to himself so you find a way for your heart to mend
They always taught something new to me
Since I was just under Three
Just a girl that wanted her dad
Grandpas never let her stay mad
Sneaking extra Banana Popsicles when Grandma was napping
Getting into the sweet stash quietly so they didnt hear the wrapping
Grandpas had the joke and skits they played on us
Those new lighters and staples were always a lil sus
Whether it was one sneaking food off your plate
Or the making you open the pasture gate
Being told to not waste time or tears on a man who does show up
What he meant was brace yourself and keep your feet in the stirrup
People always had the chance to let me down
Grandpa showed me how to move on without a sound
Things they did shaped us into the parents we are
They've got the best seats since they became a star
On a little country farm,
Beneath a Mighty Oak.
There, before Five Headstones,
An old Woman in a cloak.
Though dug so long ago,
The Graves were freshly kept.
With Bible in her hand,
On her knees, the Woman wept.
Five Sons fell in Battle,
Three on Land and Two at Sea.
Now every Year, to the Day,
Was there on bended knee.
This somber scene repeats,
Too many times to recall.
One Hundred Thousand Heartbreaks,
We never knew at all.
For the Mothers of the Fallen
Seems so surreal...billions of beings
held in place by invisible forces
atop a giant spinning orb
dependent on the charity of
mother bird's star warmth.
It's a golden time for earth and mankind
conceiving and evolving
creating and mastering fantastic things
like flying machines and curing disease
searching for the key to the speed of light
planet hopping just on the horizon
unwinding the helix-dreaming in spacetime.
Ego, like algae bloom, enters the gilded room
disturbing the divine and pure nature of things
warring and serial raping...rinse and repeat.
Mankind so volatile so violent so unkind
Careening toward another mass extinction.
The beginning and ending deeply set in scripture
trimmed and encrypted whittled down to imperfection.
With an ungodly amount of editing in between.
No wonder mankind seems detached and indifferent.
Mother bird star warmth will remain
long after the golden tide of mankind subsides.
She'll pulse her warmth to the next icy orb...
hopeful that grace will finally overcome ego.
pleading petals play gently in the sun
whispering joy across the sticky skin
summertime blessings cannot be outdone
however, autumn is her next of kin
praying roses and melancholic buds
remembering our heart’s tender healing
hanging in timeless ache of fair redbuds
season’s bliss lifts shadows who’re concealing
promising the night stars, moon and fireflies
rousing such beauty the skies come to life
only God can breathe this splendor its whys
summer’s glory comes ‘round despite all strife
birdsong and melodies rich kindness flow
sunshine leaves its touch as an afterglow
The clock holds nothing about time,
Where a mood I star on her face.
Love, still the numbers in my cry —
The clock holds nothing about time,
A glass that's always ~left and right~
Oh, darling, for a brief while, stay —
The clock holds nothing about time,
Where a mood I star on her face.
A film star
It was not her creamy body that caught
My attention, nothing unusual about it
Curvaceous, yes but going soft, it was
Here eyes, in a blink they were blue, green
Or brown, depending on her mood that
Changed faster than traffic lights on
Sunset Boulevard
Between laughter, pain and suspicion
I could see her soul and wide-open eyes
They killed her slowly the famous men
Wouldn’t let her grow up a dumb blond
Forever
I could have made her happy, but when
I found the courage to ring her doorbell
Marilyn wasn’t around anymore.
Zen
Love is
A gold coin
That never rust
Thought I heard a bluebird sing
somewhere over the rainbow
I was wrong 'twas but a song
playing away there on the radio
bought a garland and some gum
for Frances the girl next door
sadly due to a bad accident in London
the unfortunate lady is here no more
studio moguls and public pressures
to their shame were to blame no doubt
but the brainless Scarecrow simply said
of her... 'She just plain wore out'
She sang from the depths of her soul,
Songs of hope and redemption.
A river flows gently through her chamber,
Searching for the gate to Zion.
She has journeyed many times out of the night,
Yet it still lingers behind her.
A rhythm of turbulence fills her soul.
The day opens its doors,
And she walks into its complexities.
"The stars beckoned her song to reach the crescent moon,"
And the elements carried her melodies into secret chambers.
Sometimes, in her slumber, she sees a distant glow,
Surrounding a place but gradually dims and dies.
Her song was heard by the night watchers;
It awakened the unseen.
Light came her way,
But will it end the trail of the night?
June 6, 2025.
As the stars twinkled gaily in the sky,
they could only laugh -
They watched the moon through all its phases,
crescent, quarter, gibbous, full, and half.
But as she cycled through her lunar changes,
grieving for all love untrue,
the stars sadly noticed that
the moon was always blue.
So, they charmed a gentle nightingale,
"Please sing your pretty tune",
and "the stars beckoned her song
to reach the crescent moon."
Chocolate pools for elegant eyes
Language a tool devoid of lies
Satin skin no flaws like a dream
Warming voice speaks as if to sing
A ballerina could move like that
Much reflected in your laugh
Humble and kind so delightful
Past your prime but who would know
Hair like a halo defying gravity air
Flair I say so in the clothes you wear
You say so much with action no word
When you do speak always heard
You’re beautiful just as you are
I imagine you as a community star
One who looks up never seems far
But close to those who love her heart
Super spacewalker stuck in space due to
Unexpected techno issues and for
Nine months stays on the ISS, proven as an
Icon for an indomitable and invincible spirit
The world awaits her come back and we
Admire and acknowledge her ‘A friend of stars!’
Place: 3 rd
Once upon a poem
she soundly slept
Moonlit waters flowing
Sirius glowing...
Rooster chimed in
unwelcome intruder
Daylight summoned
~ the poem eludes her
I was the moon when I met Zizam, a silver star hidden in the night,
And in her eyes, I became a dream, for if she called me her moon, I would be, unbeaten.
Hidden from the earth, I wore my scars, under the veil of night, timidly I stood,
But she, my Sun, shone with rays, painting my face with her love.
She was the light that gave me life, I, the hermit that withered every flower,
We were in the same sky, a secret desire, but never together, only in dreams.
I was the storm, singing fury in the wind, a symphony of thunder and light,
She, the autumn breeze, whispering words, a gentle caress for desires and sighs.
The world shied away from my song, fearful of my untamed power,
But she embraced me with her drive, dancing around me, with an open heart.
But my winds grew ever stronger, becoming a tornado of desires and rage,
Too powerful for her song, she had to leave, to find harmony.
Even now, when I unleash myself in the sky, I hear her whisper, a fleeting echo,
I call her name, in an austere dream, trying to embrace her, in eternal longing.