Yawned Poems | Examples

Golden Majesty

       A wink from the sun woke me at dawn.
       I yawned, lazily stretched and smiled as
       I felt the gentle touch of his warm fingers.
       With golden majesty, he rose in the sky,
       greeting the morning with his usual flair.

Virginia Woolf

Have you read the note?
It speaks of the doom of the liquid element.
An inclement weather, grey, and with the fuss of a bleached lightning,
Besieges the tick of the clock.
Must have been a bland Sunday, which retreated
From the temerity of old wine,
Haunted by the lonesome refrains of exhausted hymns.
The belfry yawned loosely....
But quiet crept in like leprosy,
Hanging loops on loam-matted hair, black and fringy,
And nursing frets we held
When the wetted guitar strings would not strum....

Have you read her note?
Not the one of Mrs. Dalloway
Nor the one of Between the Acts,
But the one she cringed for —
That banal, invidious act, non-virginal,
Which haunts the church to this day.

A Robin’s Song

The bright sunshine signalled a new 
dawn,
Lazily, I stretched and yawned,
Not truly ready to face the day,
As I looked out of my window, my 
neighbour shouted, it’s beautiful 
today.

On a thin and fragile branch, 
I noticed a Robin was resting his 
feet,
A charmer he was , and to my eyes, 
he was a treat,
His colourful coat was white, brown 
and red,
Seeing him made me feel glad I had 
gotten out of bed.

With his melodiously sweet trill, 
the leaves on the trees seem to 
flutter with his song,
Notes rise and fall and with the 
gentle breeze, the branches swayed
in a rhythmic dance,
His tune filled the Spring air, and
not long, a female came along,
Witnessing their interactions was a 
beautiful moment for me. Sometimes
in life, unexpectedly beautiful things
do happen by chance.




by Zyrool

Aim, Aeon

Aim dead center, O aeon!
Era, this is now.
Ergo, O my stern scion;
Come to anyhow!

Looking-glasses are like wind.
Reality grinned.
Terror, tiger, tamarind!
Sacred til he sinned...

Gaunt the gambrel goblin?
No smile a-face today.
Whirling dervish, loud the din!
War, be on thy way!

Grey of the nebula pond;
Why is waiting good?
Yellow-speckled viper yawned!
Gone but understood!

Kingdoms are like prophecies?
Yes, in this context:
Rife, roil, rampant, rare! Disease!
Hell and Heaven, hexed...

Sort it out, O sordid sigh...
Do not ask us why?
Sylvan silver, art thou shy?
Bargain basement buy?

Syllable, unleash thy wrath!
Letters, break the chain!
Poems, place us on the path!
Language, take the lane!

Young is this old harpsichord?
Harpy, use a sword?
Bull, matador. Which gets gored?
Folly gets you floored.

Holly. Mistletoe, thy doom.
Poison, flow like wine.
Ivy, rune, ice, ancient tomb.
Cyanide strychnine.

Pearls Before Swine

So many pearls before the swine
He didn’t know which to pick
So fell asleep and dreamed to fly
Straight up to some Alpean peak
There he took selfies, drank high tea
And then he flew back home
Down to the native piggery
Where one day he was born
His dream was suddenly cut short
No pearls around he saw
He yawned and in surprise he snored
Chewed pensively a straw
He thought “if I were not a swine
A butterfly I’d like to be
On multicoloured wings I’d fly
This time towards the sea.”

The Horse Named Maybe

I bought me a horse from a feller named Clyde,
said, "She’s gentle and sweet, just a joy for to ride."
Well, "Maybe" she was, and maybe she weren't--
the first thing she did was dump me in dirt.

I saddled up hopeful, boots shiny and proud,
"Maybe" just yawned and sat down on the ground.
I pulled, and I pushed, and I pleaded and begged,
but Maybe just blinked and then stomped on my leg.

Now me and ol' Maybe, we're thick as can be--
she naps in the shade, and she bosses on me.
Folks laugh when I ride--I don't mind much, you see--
'cause Maybe's the only girl stubborn as me.

Red Sun Rising

Mr. Sun awaken by Dawn
was all fired-red with a big yawn
Miss Moon waning away
from her pink fullness
wants to stay

they fought 
stretched, and yawned
until Mr. Sun won
 

Thus, Easter morn 
has finally begun

if you happen to be wondering
What the moral of this poem is
nature follows
patterns 
from the beginning of time
until Jesus (God) sets
change into action

Pulling Me Onward

The woods never yawned
at the end of my stories
The streams never laughed
when I stuttered in haste
The mountains stood firm
when I lost my last footing
The sky understanding
in joy or disgrace 

These natural things
forever behold me
Forgiving my weakness
rewarding my nerve
Their arms reaching out
through each change of the season
Pulling me onward
— my voice undeterred

(The New Room: March, 2025)

Gargamel’s Lament

Deep in his lair with a scowl and a sneer,
Gargamel grumbled, "They're still not here!"
He plotted and paced, he ranted and swore,
Yet Smurfs slipped away like they had before.

Azrael yawned, unimpressed with the plan,
Another bad scheme from a not-so-great man.
"Turn them to gold? Make Smurf stew?"
But every attempt just fell right through!

He set up a trap with a cunning disguise,
Dressed as a granny with twinkling eyes.
But Smurfs just laughed and skipped away,
Leaving him fuming the rest of the day.

He brewed up a potion, bubbling and blue,
Chanting a spell—then POOF! He flew!
Straight through the chimney, out to the trees,
Landing face-first with a swarm of bees.

So Gargamel sighs, as he always must,
His dreams of victory crumbling to dust.
For no matter the trick, the chase, or the strife,
The Smurfs will outsmurf him—such is his life!

SO SIMPLE

         Apples, apricot, blackberries, biscuits 
         Children ! Cheese cake, donuts, dozen drumsticks 
         Enjoy eating :  Food for friends - fellow , fun !
         Got guava- grapes ? Have hotdog honey- bun.
          Irish Ice-cream ! Jam - jelly , juice in jar.
         Jack, Jill, Junior John , jubilant joker !
         knife in kitchen : Kids in knickerbocker.
     
       Lying lazy lovely little lizard :
       Laughing loud lion -lioness - leopard.
       Micro- macro- minimal-maximal
       New- naval-nascent ! Oblate or oval ?
       Ostrich offered old owl, olive - orange ! 
       Proud  peacock playing  prompt pretty plumage.
      
      Quiet queen : Rabbit runs, restless rapid.
     Swift squirrel ! Soft snail showing so slow speed.
      Top topples !  Uncle under umbrella !
     Vintage vehicle visits village - villa.

     Wow ! Wonderful  ! World wide website  was won.
     Yellow yak yawned in zing at  zig- zag zone .

Grandad what did you want to be when you were my age

he paused
pushing himself on the soft leather
shaped by his years
-Happy
his eyes beaming
below the arced trellises of his greyed out eyebrows

Dion rested at his grandfathers feet
His face in a contortion of bewilderment

-No, I mean as a job

The old man grasped a freshly iced can of
some sugar filled gloop
and poured it between them both

He gave a chuckle
disguising it as a cough
as the child held the glasses together to better measure the gloop
before placing one in his grandfathers hand

The giant princes and 7 people doesn’t have the same ring

-Okay what about Grumpy
pulling a fake gurn to his face
the tickle of his beard causing him to sneeze to easily

Dion yawned his grandfather wiping the sleep peadrops from his eye

Bashfully I must leave
but my grate NESS
Is documented

Peacespeaker

Pairing knives peppered the garden growing by the river.
Eerie sounds slid sideways into the lowering light.
Alfy and Alice were still out cavorting beyond the barn.
Children in dusty blue dresses yawned on the paint-chipped deck.
Ernie and Emmett kept to tussling along the riverbed,
Something about some girl they both shined over.
Papa didn't budge over it with a freshly lit pipe in his slow rocker.
Even with the yellin' and cussin' and grabbin' gettin' hotter and rougher.
All told I'd reckon this was their 10th row since I moved back to the farm.
Knowing their love of escalation they were bound to spot one of the knives.
Estuary frogs croaked through the purple summer sky when I pounced,
Running thru the squeaky screen door for silhouetted shivs dancing riverside.

Scarlet French Kisses

Long for the tender tormenting touch of her slips, a vermillion vice of the abyssal depths that lay within the merest brush of her breath, a zephyr's caress that set aflame the parched arid landscapes of my wasteland as sighs hollow echoes whispered promises grew, the inferno of my longing raged, a maelstrom of need that threatened to consume all reason, all restraint in the swirling crimson vortex of those velvets, the boundaries of our recurrent reality grew tenuous, and the tyranny of the flesh held sway as the flexuous uncharted curves of your caress became the acid test of my resolve, dissolving the fragile, varnished veneer of self control, as the confinement of thy desires began to dissolve like gossamer under the scorching waxen sun of ardent, copious passion.

As we entwined, visceral privilege awoke, like hydras flourishing in some foresworn elixir, every casual respite yawned vacant, sucked into the vampiric vortices of intolerably testy discontent. 

How provoking, this postponement of unbound reciprocity, tongue just grazing the tips of those plush velvet onyx lips, while catalyzing inveigling suspense

Dance of polarities

Once we realise this world is but thought
and that we’re here because of our desire,
no cause then remains to be tense and taut,
for within this dream, what’s there to aspire?

In space-time dissolves silence, who remains,
save essence of presence, always complete,
free from bondage to ego’s thought form chains,
throbbing living light, here now bliss replete.

Though there’s nothing to be done, life renews,
as a lucid dream, we ourselves have spawned,
so we sing a hymn, as of our heart’s muse,
full of vibrance, although nonchalance yawned.

There’s but one real purpose in this world ~
to behold how the flag of love’s unfurled.

marley’s maxim

the frozen soil crumbled
falling into my eyes and horrified mouth
as I gripped the sodden roots on
the rim of the pit
my strength waning, (and my will) …
at the bottom of the hole, a wooden casket
yawned like the jaws of Death itself
lid open and shaking like a splintered tongue
the glow of Hell's embers below it ...
flames licking its sides and
reaching up to the soles of my feet
but not with heat
rather, an intolerable coldness that made
my marrow ache for an end …
as my grasp weakened
and the roots of the twisted old tree
slipped thru my hands
I looked up at the stars -
winking like candles
and said a prayer for my soul
the ragged clang of Marley’s chains
still torturing my ears
and the crooked, bony finger of the Reaper
wagging with reproach
his coal black eyes sparkling and lifeless
as the sky drew away
and I fell ...
to my wretched doom.

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