Weave Poems

Through the veil of mist, stars weave stories in whispers of silver

Through the veil of mist, stars weave stories in whispers of silver,
Illuminating the path of shadows dancing on the edge of the dream.
Rivers of time flow through valleys of memories forgotten by the world,
Where each moment weeps its tale in echoes of longing.
Trees stretch their arms toward the sky full of enigmas,
In their foliage, the wind sings ballads of lost hearts.
The moon, queen of the night, spreads her veil over our dreams,
While silence dresses the earth in its cloak of mystery.
Beneath the sleeping earth, roots seek sources of truth,
While the flowers of dreams open in the light of the cold moon.
Each star is a hidden wish, an unspoken secret,
In the dark universe where light dances with shadow.
Dawn brings with it a new beginning, but also the end of a dream,
For each morning, the magic of the night is reborn from the ashes.
In our hearts, love weaves its eternal stories,
While time whispers answers from forgotten corners.

When the arms weave white nights

when the arms weave white nights,

caressing your eyelids,

only dreams know how to come out dry from the rain,

like butterflies,

spreading their wings to stop the drops,

and the dew, humble servant

washes your feet with clover honey

to grow wings, melt the wax on the altar, and

plant basil in your chest,

let us float like the wind on swaying water

…and you will live forever in a dreamer’s heart,

in a dreamer’s tears, you will live forever,

when the arms weave white nights,

caressing your dreams as if they are comforting lightning,

only dreams know what it's like coming out dry from the rain,

like butterflies spreading their wings,
                                                            as if they were umbrellas
stopping the rain

Oh, What A Tangled Interweb We Weave

Don't like the look of what's going on
seems to you something's wrong
the smell of corruption in the air
look around it's everywhere
can't place the feel of what's happening here
could it be something to fear
the sound of conniving on the wind
a warning call for all thin-skinned
so round and round and round we go
where it stops no one knows
it takes two to tango or so they say
but that was then not today
ask a question and they hand you
the same old automated two-step quango
one foot forward two steps back
while standing in quicksand
pose a query they'll sidestep the issue
and the matter at hand
giving you the light fandango
they'll look you in the eye and deny
it's all a web within a web
behind a web of total lies

Word-Weary

I don't choose the muse
the muse chooses me
but when I need her most
then whereabouts is she
abandoned and self-mocked
not word one could I pen
with writer's block
my fate cast to the wind
but if the wraith had knocked
as does opportunity
I couldn't tell
on the other hand
her silence rings a bell
so left to my own devices
of weft warp and weave
forged in fire ashes to ashes
dust from the stars
I perceived is what we are
and word-weary all I could conceive

Nature's Tapestry

A winsome weave, simple and real,
Warp and weft; a tight twill,
A weaverbird’s nest, strong and snug,
With soft crossways and tumphy tug.

Subtle cozy patterns, seldom revealed,
Cynical twists like waves unsealed,
The mirror of peafowl’s courtship field.

Matchless display by the peacock,
Dance elevated by love, rattle of feathers in rhythmic clock,
Enticing and dazing the hens, with a silent poise,
All while rivals raise their voice.

Waking incredible train rattle, a sharper dance,
Initial plumage grandeur, a healthier glance,
Peahens’ basics caught in a stance. 

Beautifully woven, a rhythmic tapestry,
Wales ranged in a rolling plain spree,
Richly captivating...lines of love,
Crowned with bliss by the brave thereof.

Under the night sky, stars weave a mantle with shimmering silver threads

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 city asleep in reverie,
The drops, tears of a sad goddess, wash away the dust of days gone by,
Leaving a scent of longing and melancholy, souls under colorful umbrellas,
Butterflies under fragile wings, seeking shelter from the relentless storm.
On the empty streets, the lantern lights reflect in shining puddles,
I wander through the labyrinth of silence, feeling how time becomes an ephemeral illusion,
A grain of sand in a forgotten hourglass, stories gather like lost echoes,
Lives lived intensely, forgotten too quickly by the world, remain as whispered memories.
In the world of dreams, reality and fantasy intertwine like a magical tapestry,
Words become a gateway to unknown realms, a traveler among verses,
I seek my path on long and equal steps leading to the sky of tranquility,
There I find the answers I've longed for my entire life.

In the garden of silence, where shadows weave stories on the canvas of time

In the garden of silence, where shadows weave stories on the canvas of time,
The flower detaches from the branch of life, a silent tear of destiny,
Without tears and without resistance, lost in the ocean of misunderstood love,
A silent witness of a feeling that remains a hidden mystery in the soul.
Wrapped in the mantle of words of love, uprooted from its roots,
It embarks on a journey from one foreign hand to another, a wandering star,
Without finding a place to rest its dark dreams,
A soil of its own in which to anchor the desires that stir its heart.
In the desire to melt into the immortal fragrance of your love,
It leaves the warm embrace of the soil that gave it life and hope,
Dreaming of an eternity in your arms, calm, without fears,
But the treacherous winds steal its breath, thieves of dreams hidden in shadows.
When the night lays its dark velvet mantle over the world,
The flower remains just a withered tale, a whisper lost in time,
An echo of promised love but never fulfilled, a shattered dream,
At the edge of dawn that brings a new day, without the memory of its fragrance.

In the cosmic vastness, stars weave dreams of eternal light

In the cosmic vastness, stars weave dreams of eternal light,
The universe reveals its spontaneous perfection in silence,
Each moment is a window to infinities of desires,
Where the useful and the useless dance in circles of light.
Life is a mosaic of experiences laid upon time,
Expanding the horizon of the soul with each step taken,
In the desire to give, we discover true value,
For only contrast reveals the hidden essence within us.
The universe, a canvas of desires and dreams, shows its beauty,
Each atom vibrates in the eternal dance of energies,
To live is to tread the edge of the unknown abyss,
Feeling the wind of time caress the face with promises.
In the desire to understand, we lose ourselves, but in uselessness,
We find the value of being, mirrored in the pure desire to give,
In the silence between thoughts, perfection becomes a journey,
We dive into depths, seeking answers in silent stars.
We wish to give meaning to each moment, but truth comes,
When we cease searching and let life carry us,
In uselessness, we find the freedom to be, unconditionally,
And in the desire to give, we discover the open soul.

In the delicate weave of dreams lies an unseen universe, full of light

In the delicate weave of dreams lies an unseen universe, full of light,
Hold tightly to these golden threads, for when dreams fade,
Life becomes a bird with broken wings, lying under the sky that once called it,
A song that can no longer be sung, a story without an end or a beginning.
Dreams are the rainbows that connect our hearts with infinity,
Without them, we lose ourselves in the labyrinth of days, shadows without form,
We cling to memories like dried leaves carried by the wind,
In a world that refuses to see the colors that once enlivened it.
When we let dreams die, we become sculptures of stone,
Looking toward horizons that no longer resonate with hope and desire,
The need to fly remains just a whisper, a lost echo,
And our soul longs for skies it will never reach.
Keep the spark of dreams alive, the flame that lights the way,
For in their fragile wings lies the power to lift us from the ashes,
And to transform the present moment into a sublime dance with eternity,
Where every heartbeat is a wing that lifts us toward the light.

Weaving Worlds With Words

Words, like a gentle breeze, can whisper untold tales,
Carrying secrets through meadows and rustling in sails.

They can build winding sentences with clauses that flow,
Connecting ideas where knowledge can grow.

But words can also storm with righteous might,
Unleashing emotions that set wrongs to the right.

They can twist and turn with a poet's keen art,
Creating unseen worlds that capture the heart.

So choose your words wisely, with purpose and care,
For they have the power to build or tear.

Like the wind and the storm, they can soothe or sting,
But in a poet's hand, a beautiful song they can sing.

To Weave And Thread

Oh inspiration, leave me not
                            On wings departed for the sun
For you and I are were such good friends
                    When we were standing, still as one

If not for you, the turquoise skies
                           Would hover just a simple blue
And flowers would of course, still be
                             Yet not of such a fragrant hue

The faded lines of tedium
              Become brand-new when you’re around
But oh, the doldrums dominate  
                       When you no longer can be found

Oh inspiration, be my muse 
                               Awaken you old sleepy head
With crayon candied thoughts to flow
             And winsome words to weave and thread

O, what a tangled web of lies we weave

O what a tangled web of lies we weave
Tipping on the edge of destruction 
Pleading we are alright while intrusive thoughts invade our minds like moving pictures.
Hiding the horrors that lurk behind closed doors.
The mangled and twisted ways you’ve damaged your children 
When our cries for help were met with unanswered ears

O what a tangled web of lies you’ve weaved
For the truth has been buried in our subconscious. Bond and sealed for our mental protection.
Your so called truths were our only memory, soon to be doused when the flood gates of our locked subconscious opens to remind us of the truth.

O what tangled web of lies we weave
When we’ve lied to hide your abuse, we’ve weaved this tangled web by keeping all the secrets that kept you looking motherly and us unforgiving.

Street Date

Amidst the glow of city lights they strolled, entwined,
Giggles danced upon the air, hands in harmony aligned,
Pause, they would, for tender kisses, vows softly spoken,
A love so true, as if the universe itself had awoken.

In their embrace, a masterpiece of togetherness they'd weave,
A portrait of love and devotion, for all to perceive,
Her handbag rested in his grip, a symbol of unity profound,
He, a gentleman rare, by all admirers renowned.

The sky above, their shared canvas, they'd often admire,
As stars winked, and the moon's glow set their hearts on fire,
Each smile exchanged, a token of a love pure and clear,
A bond that outshone all, crowned the couple of the year.

Weave

the tempered veil of years with a weave of sweet and sour
can be lavish like the pleasurable return of good deeds
take what you learn from sky high places
                                    that bleed clouds to the hills

weave towards green with its hypnotic continuity
reach for the weightlessness of a dandelion seed
                        in a breeze of somersaults 

weave away if lies spoken with zest 
                                                become believable 
seek a safe place from huff and puff winds
             woven into refuge like design in a quilt
find what's essential like peek-a-boo games
                                     that tickle a child to glee

work strains
whittles at days
the hourglass sighs at what sags away

summer still holds the chatter of birds
young buds still weave upward
                      ungloving hands holding chains and fear
joy still roams to signboards above
nothing desolate
a sanctuary
Elysium 
        in walls that rise
        in stars unnamed

Weaving

“This way and that- and in and out-
     is what weaving is all about.”
                                       by_ Poet

Oh, how I love to weave!
To think about a pattern, then apply;
the length of it, conceive-
and with the rules of what I choose, comply.

Oh, how I love to weave!
My fingers nimbly moving to and fro;
then pausing to relieve
my mind when concentration becomes slow.

Oh, how I love to weave!
with ins and out of thought, my fingers move.
If not what I perceive-
adjust it, and some bits I then remove.

Oh, how I love to weave!
When nearly done, I get to join each part!
For sure, would you believe-
I wrote this poem with word-weaving art!

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