Withers Poems - Poems about Withers

Winter Withers

Winter Withers

…… its way into the woods
and waits….and wonders….and watches
until…. No-one is looking.
Boorishly, an ally introduces itself,
an iced-sliced wind to quiver-shiver
the woods’ most tender saplings;
to shudder the aged evergreens
with sharpened, encrusted crystals 
sandpapering the toughest, roughest bark.

Weather warning complete, 
Winter then crunches forward,
cold shouldering its way through the night
to finally rest against a solitary cabin.
Inside

When Life Withers

oh cloudy morning
when summer becomes all gray
That way   life withers

Body

I look into the mirror
I barely recognize myself
My skin is pale
My eyes sunken in
Inside is broken,
While the outside withers
Who am I but myself?
Something broken and dead
I feel my own heart
A steady rhythm
My thoughts are scattered
My smile bland
I feel like I am dying
Inside I am already dead
Who am I?
I no longer feel like myself
Hopeless and withered
My

As Time Withers Away

As time withers away 
Think about doing better
You have fallen off course
Make your vision brighter
Always move forward
Do not ever look back
Pick up your feet 
And get back on track

Up It Dries Then Withers and Dies

Up It Dries Then Withers and Dies

What we always  do have to realize,
Is if and when we forget to fertilize,
Branches won't swish,
And suffering anguish;
Up tree dries and eventually it dies.

Jim Horn

Seems like sad state of affairs that
we are in sometimes. What would we 
do with letters from famous people
together with dossiers.

Withers

After the dawn 
Pain and graces begun
Now I'm longing 
For the twilight time.
That star up high
On the daylight ignites
And a variety of feet step
On my one  last life.

I need birds on my branches
besides just making holes on me.
Wanting to be touched by  wind
Yet it shakes me.
I want fruits 
But they got ripe and

Leaf Withers

leaf withers
in an old book
ghost tiptoes

12.05.16

When the Last Grape Withers On the Vine

When The Last Grape Withers On The Vine

Soon Fate will diminish my last returns
with all -decaying awaits its fuel
Shall I cry-while my heart still burns
begging reprieve from this last duel?

When the last grape withers on the vine
the last cloud drops its sweet rain
Shall I pray again for me and mine?
Thanking the coming end to my

Life Withers Away As Flowers

Life withers away as flowers,
its days fade into the evening darkness,
leaving images of either delight or pain;
ah, they cannot be caught as rain!


Life withers away as flowers;
youth was that radiant sun... 
the center of our universe!
Missing out on a pretty sunset or dawn 
is a tremendous mistake;
breathe in joy as you lay down or awake!

The Tale of Old Man Withers Gold Part Three, Conclusion

As the boys walked and walked
Through the forest of many lost souls
The boys began to feel they were lost
And would never find old man withers gold

But as the boys, were about to give up
The oldest had another feeling
And decided to look up
There he saw, what looked to be a cave
He told the other two, and

The Tale of Old Man Withers Gold Part Two

The oldest stepped forth first
Across into the misty cold
The oldest was strong and brave
Very smart and very bold

As the two other boys followed
Into The forest of many lost souls
The boys couldn’t help but think
About what they would do with all of that gold

Walking real fast and completely UN aware
Something stood watching
With a dark and creepy

The Tale of Old Man Withers Gold Part One

Three little boys
Went out on a adventure quest
To find the treasure of old man withers
At his place of final rest

In the forest of many lost souls
Is where the three boys would go
A dark and gloomy place
Especially to find some gold

Full of monsters and goblins’ 
Unknown I am told
That eats your body and even your bones
Right

Legend Withers

I do not display, but am. 
Where the heart lies.
In truth. I try to discover the centre 
of sorrow and bliss. 
Life has not given 
me full text of death.
The shadows are larger than reals.

You will not remember me
in endless night.
I am going on a long journey
to find out what is death of a name

What Writhes With Whispers & Withers With Words

only i will know the taste
of the stars & scars
as they nest
in your eyes
while the tip of my tongue
& lines of my palm
trace on your skin
poems even i
do not
hear

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