Threads Poems - Poems about Threads

THREADS This poem written for What Makes Me Smile 2 poetry contest, Karen Jones, sponsor June 19, 2025. Dawn’s first light spills through the open window, a golden brushstroke across my face. I smile, breathing in the promise of a new day. Wind chimes dance in the morning breeze, a gentle symphony echoing of newness and innocence. I smile, reminding myself of...

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I love to create your story in words, like a dream woven from threads of light and desire, As if it was and is no more, a fairy tale brought to life under the pen of time flowing gently, I turn you into a beloved fairy tale hero, with a happier ending where our love is eternal...

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Sometimes I wake, at least believing I have, but find that I'm wandering about, perhaps dreaming while walking in a mist, through empty halls where moonlight doesn't stream through windows on walls. I'm alone in lush jungles of canopied forests, and bathing in pools behind waterfalls. It's a strange realm of a juxtaposing existence where my words and...

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I wear my dress like a canvas of dreams woven from threads of the moon, as if my porcelain skin had never been touched by shadows, as if you hadn't taken me to the back of a car, a temple of secrets, as if you hadn't possessed me like an elixir flowing through a thirsty soul. I wear my...

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In the vast tapestry of life, where thoughts weave threads of untamed dreams, we move like wandering stars through galaxies of happenstance, seeking directions in the random constellations of existence, where reason unravels in waves of mist and fleeting light. Philosophies are maps drawn on the sands of time, promising us islands of certainty in the endless ocean of doubt, but...

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one thread unravels quietly from the cuff ...

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Corrosion seeps into a floundering mind, Disembodied memories unbind. Set free, lacerating into a trembling spine, Threads of a soul spill, taunting it’ll never be fine. Abandon the white-knuckle grasp you have on sanity; You’ve become perverse, a mere profanity. Watch as we dismantle your facade of vanity, Swept away on sulphur winds with any remaining humanity. Stripped bare, exposing inner turmoil beneath, Into...

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Equipped to write but not to share Damn thoughts spill out somehow Never with intention of soul to bare Rein in, veil them, obscure them now! Nonchalant I'll be if you express care Ta-ra*, I'll exit with non-committal bow *Informal British way of saying goodbye...

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Threads of Thoughts threads of thoughts ever trail my mind as a companion that never leaves me lonely as I stroll along the corridors of life in the stillness of solitude in the midst of the multitude at the break of dawn during sunshine of the day in the dim shadows of twilight and darkness of night as a moment without thought I cannot be...

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In the depths of the mind, where thoughts weave like threads of an ancient tapestry, I wonder why women, like comets piercing the night sky, Are more intriguing to men than men are to them. Perhaps they carry unknown galaxies in their eyes, realms of dreams and mystery, Each of their smiles is an enigma, an untold story waiting...

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Under the night sky, stars weave a mantle with shimmering silver threads, Thoughts carry me into the enchanted forest, where trees whisper stories, Shadows dance to the rhythm of the wind, singing a melody forgotten by time, A symphony of silence, each note a dream shattered by the light of dawn. Rain falls like a silk veil over the...

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With threads of your hair, you stitched up my soul, Each strand a tether to moments unspoken. I’d sit cross-legged, the floor cool beneath us, While your hands worked through my tangles, Carrying stories I was too young to know. The oil, warm and thick, glistened in your palm— Jasmine, sharp and sweet, filled the air between us. Your fingers moved with...

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The wind billows the trees with god-forsaken draft, And rinses the limbs with splashes of rain. Zephyr's raging bluster brings forth storm's chaotic craft, Blowing silver threads to new starts again. Sailing without order, the threads land where they may---- On fences, on plants, on patio chairs. The small spiders, thus carried, will emerge in a day, And crawl past your...

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A screen's soft glow, a whispered hum, Automated age has truly come. Invisible threads that bind us all, A world of wonders at our thrall. From pocket's depth, a universe springs, Information's tide on digital wings. A fleeting image, a viral sound, Connections forge the globe around. Algorithms weave, a tailored view, Of what we want and what we do. A constant stream of data's...

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In the vast plains of the mind, where thoughts intertwine like threads of gold, The herd gathers, a sea of souls moving in unison under the gray sky, Looking with fear and misunderstanding at the one who dares to be a solitary star, That soul that carves its own path through the labyrinth of silent shadows. It is not...

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