Capers poems bring the best collection of short and long capers poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great capers rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these capers poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on capers are here for you.
You’re making eyes,while I make up my mind. Thinking of ways how I’d make you mine, You play that little game where you keep me guessing, You leave me wanting more so you’l keep on teasing, All i need is
The shadows of you continuously haunt me. They are always reflecting the person you made me, the person I didn’t want to become… It has almost been a year since you left, and yet your demons, that I so foolishly
Entering into deathless trance the moon was galloping across the clouds, clad in blue winds, for a spiritual encounter with the sky. A saint in making, a grandson of god, retreats in a religious retreat to taste a forbidden pain
This heart adores with feelings true and pure A lady love, so sweet, of classic mien, Discreet of ways, so subtle and demure, Yet keen to hear buds opening unseen; Or else, discern aspirations of dreams, Decipher codes in languages
My wings fly with flaming heart, soaring high in the sky but in utter vain. Like sunshine in the rain, but burnt and charred, it so hurts. Delving into the same old refuge, filled with solitude in a world full
seething yet silent in land of outrage: strictures of life, my eyes will not see the setting sun; this was the blind spot before the battle starts and spine turns into ramrod in hot sun – to speak the version
A beautiful bud bloomed, When a butterfly gently touched, Slowly unfolding her petals, Singing the most melodious tune, In her rejoicing heart. As the butterfly kissed her, She danced in the gentle breeze, With a twinkle in her eyes, Feeling
Silence. He could but dread the feel of it The disturbing silence of children back home as adults Even the sub conscious silence of heavy steps in his broken world of isolation The mocking silence of the crumbled currency lying
Find something you’re passionate about and let it consume you. Do not run from it. Let it keep you awake for 48 hours at a time. And while you’re running on zero sleep, create the next wonder of the world.
Ouroboros is its own meal The same is true with Those from own country that steal! To hamstrung the incumbent Most party members are not hesitant. Ouroboros,they adore their party, Which they obliviously or Otherwise sully with A rent-seeking identity.
Somewhere in between the waking and the dream, I can feel you close to me. Just before times hands reshape the desert sands, I can feel you reach for me. In the blink of tear stained eyes, watching weary to
To drill a hope in the drowned soul was very difficult, winds had blown away the talisman. Stress was palpable, you could tear the weather with empty hands. Mists had walked into the houses to pick up the burning cheeks.
You become a chair. A dream sits in you for a graphic detail of pelvis. A trophy? Was it undecorous to present a cadaver walking on the earth? A serial killer wants a plaque on his grave after the verdict.
This fake city encounters a thundering moment; I go down coveting a mating call from an explosion of hallowed questions, with no answers. Stones were after all stones, not gems of knowledge. How can you make a universal elixir figuratively
Nature places it in the lap of the green It takes peaceful slumbers in the loving arms of a leaf The morning light beautifies it…… At last, it encounters death When the bright rays of sun burns its delicate surface
Her wings were tidy, a little flutter now and then, She was always so close, to finally grasp her dream, So, when that day had finally come, that woman’s wings were clipped, She needed to let go, therefore, she flew
From birth you are given a role many would deem inhumane You are forced into clothes and put to work for selfish men One day you are chosen to fulfil your duty Even though your obligation will change you into
The rain drops have poured right through my eyes Right again the scars reveals themselves again Shared the broken heart into pieces Wondering the knight might still come Telling the pain it over But pushes hard feeling me I let
sky gone the color of strong black tea wind assists everything toward the ground mountains were born for withstanding this world howl builds around craggy teeth when rain joins it mixes and remixes ultimate alchemist its runoff is life itself
Love you short, love you tall Love you black, love you white Love you smiling, love you frowning Love you always Love your character than your beautiful face Love your composure than your disclosure Love your confidence than your face
Well and Paybacks are hell aren’t they But you can’t say you didn’t have it Coming… Respect me and I’ll respect you Disrespect me and I’ll disrespect you It works both ways… Don’t make it harder on yourself now Than
The best dance will be praise. When my strength will finally be raised. Carrying out the heat and cold between fire and ice. Shallow expectations keep trembling as if someone is constantly rolling dice. Clueless as to what is supposed
This river breaks on rocks unmoving. Soft music unceasing on violin strings. My heart plays silent tunes in darkness. A picture melts into nothingness. Gather them, If you can, those broken pieces before the waves swallow. The sea is kind
The day I realised that I’m just like everyone else. Clarity. I spent all my time thinking that I was different, unusual. [Apparently] I thought differently to everyone else. [I] Wanted, needed different things. Craved isolation. Solitude. Peace. Contentment. Simplicity
That east wind clawed at my skin leaving me fragile again I was once impervious to reckoning but now every element guffaws at how weak I have become the shrill call of the night birds humiliate me for I am
A masterful bull elk in prime condition the massive monster’s high spirited bugle reverberating out across a vast valley high in the Cascade Mountain Range. Wapiti’s harem meandering about on a pristine alpine meadow with the grand master on full
Hoping for more good days. Wishing that everyday was like today. Filled with joy and excitement. But containing the sorrow and sadness. Good days come and go. Containing both the joy and sorrow. Some containing more than the other. But
To become or not to become a renegade, or to die or not to die for a semi-god? These were some of the questions thrown at an incomplete script. What elevated you to a celebrity? Your hump or deep wrinkled
Never in those sizzling conflicts displaying the pink eyes you were able to reach me. Was it metagenesis, forgetting your selfhood? Fragments of a beast were floating on sea. Was umblicus of death broken in the crotch of a mother?