Village Poems - Poems about Village

The skies now dark with swollen grief, Rain lashes roofs beyond belief. The monsoon comes not soft, but roaring seas, It spares no home and trees, nor man, nor child. Before my eyes - truth too raw to bear, A mother staggered through the despair, Clutching her sack above the flood, Her last few grains, her sweat, her blood. The fields we tilled...

Continue reading...

A village in the sun There is a small village with a few streets that have no name and houses have no number twelve I bought a small home that had stood empty for years when not used as a stable for the unique Algarvian white long-eared donkey Retired workers in the village up the road where...

Continue reading...

In verdant valleys, where wildflowers sway, A tranquil village, where my heart stays, A place of serenity, where love abounds, Where laughter echoes, and memories resound. The thatched roofs, the rustic doors, The gentle streams, that forever roar, The scent of earth, the warmth of sun, A sense of belonging, forever begun. In this haven, I took my first stride, Where innocence bloomed, and...

Continue reading...

The women in my Viking village don't like domestic work or tillage. They get much more excited when they all get invited on raids to go plunder and pillage....

Continue reading...

We both were once in a village, far from the crowd (Home/verses/khonika/ek ganye) We both were once in a village, far from the crowd Plethora, the joy is always ours! Magpie Robin chirps there high on their tree branch, modulation and swings. Overturn, Lingering longer with her song, I too, learned to believe in the churn. Her domesticity with her...

Continue reading...

Though life's worries pull us apart, Through summer’s heat and winter’s heart, A drop of my blood once fell here, And I can’t pass this village, dear. At first, we came with hesitation, But soon adapted with dedication. In ten years, it shaped who we are, This modest...

Continue reading...

Each one’s a giant, a tale to unfold, A living treasure, richer than gold. With hearts so vast, like the steppe they roam, The boys of our village, as strong as stone. Their eyes ablaze like springtime skies, Pride unyielding, they’ll brook no lies. Though fiery at times, they heed what’s right, The boys of our village, steadfast in might. They walk upright,...

Continue reading...

An autumn night. How wondrous is its tranquil stillness, The night breeze gently caresses my face. Sheep is chew, camels cry, dogs bark, All revealing the village’s lively pace. Stars twinkle like countless glowing lamps, The bright moon above—a beacon, a guide. Here I stand, unable to escape...

Continue reading...

Here we are, our falsehoods are now through, Did you claim your share from life’s clear view? Erasing one name from this fragile world, A name that history forever unfurled. We left the village just the other day, Yet for its warmth, we always long and pray. Enjoying life in our own fleeting ways, We’re all just bellies hauling earth’s clays. In youth,...

Continue reading...

Gingerbread village is my go-to Christmas place Red and white stripes give it a festive look. Strings of blinking lights uplift me in a December way. Gingerbread houses loaded with gumdrops are smiling. In the sky are a dove, an angel, and a magic hot air balloon. Magic oozes into my pores, as I parade down Gingerbread Lane. Nothing has ever...

Continue reading...

I am a beacon of light for my homeland. My quaint village, serene yet vibrant, is a haven of peace. The youth, with their carefree spirit, fill the air with laughter and song, unbothered by the world beyond. Even the birds know to respect the tranquility of our lives. From the winding road that leads to...

Continue reading...

O Lord, 'Tis a decade gone Since thy curse fell upon us. The malnourished children are no more, The poor soil lieth barren. Lord, what hast thou wrought upon our village? Mine only companions be the flies and the toads. Thy shadow resteth beside mine empty grave. I am not wroth with thee, Yet surely have I all the right to be so....

Continue reading...

Sleepy village The white village has a small church also white and wonderful only open for mass, weddings and funerals Post-card pretty set in a landscape by a Van Gogh  Poppies and olive trees shimmer above ground, in the afternoon heat I saw the priest drink whisky and lit  a cigarette while leafing through a two-month-old Vatican circular  People live long here, when they die do so in...

Continue reading...

The howling wind without feather or crown Swept through the town like madman on a ladder Huffing and puffing and inflating its gut and breath Stagnant air all over the prosperous town, zinc start flying like bullets from the roofs chopping down trees in the outrageous breeze Smashing windows and tearing down houses and the wind and water mixed with earth choaks...

Continue reading...

ogling the green man - triangle between his nose and the dairy goat scytheman spoils - dreamy village, ‘cept for the upside-down violinist green man wears cap and St. Andrew’s cross - ...

Continue reading...