Comforting poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of comforting poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on comforting are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
“HE” He is an important persona. He is- who is omnipresent, and makes me feel special. He is- who is outstandingly unique, that nobody can ever beat. He is- who rings the bells of my heart, with a dart. “HE”
O comforting tree! Neither I need your fruits Nor your blossoms, Want only a bit of your shade Tired I am To take rest under your shade, Then will leave Travel I have to I will keep travelling. O lovely
Her tranquility is soothing and comforting, When she is cross, she is exciting and retorting, Fascinating; a displeased beloved is charming, A miracle of cooling that ends in warming, The color of cheeks when becomes more pink, The latent call
Mother India I travelled to you Three years back ‘Twas a moment’s spur Friends thought I’d gone whack Mother India Filled with uncertainty For what was in store Intrepid and curious I reached your belly at Bangalore Mother India With
Pharmacist’s pantry or landlord’s larder, choices aplenty for a mind so disposed. Maximum dosage to test the boundaries, roulette wheel silently spinning. Senses slither away like an exposed serpent, seeking the shapelessness of the shadows. The comforting numbness of certain
I must go to the hills again, To those distant rolling, green slopes, To those lonely, shrouded peaks, To the comforting embrace of the morning mist. I must go to the hills again, To the sparkle of effervescent streams, To
In you I see strength, power You standby to support me like a tower. You make me laugh till my stomach hurts, I don’t know how they can affect me they’re just words. You hold my hand comforting me always,
Walk ever faintly with me, my love Barefoot upon the salted apron shore Let us sip the fading western light Savor the bodied flavor of recent wounds Bow completely to descending night Heal imperfectly beneath comforting moons ..until daylight reveals
The spirit flows, Down the aisle of believers, It contorts and goes, Into the hearts of gracious receivers, The reading is a lament, Over a loss of accepted vigor, With which it has departed a certain consent, In the disrespect
He rode into town on his horse. Spurs digging into A soft dull gray, hooves echoing against the ground. His eyes met with a certain lass. Joyful at heart. His eyes tried her on, alone with limitless possibility. He thought
About the book: These poems happened to me at random, insignificant moments. They are still damp, from loss. They manifest wild ways to look at ordinary things. I am picking up pieces of life And handing them over to you.
Of all the simplest of things. Sometimes love is a lot like socks. Some are long, some are short. Hell some even come up to the height of knees. Some are bland. Some are colorful. Baring the fruit of comforting
Struggle is life’s way of strengthening it… yet because of it I’m stuck in a bottomless pit. Everything’s gone, truly nobody left… a few that once cared now all think I’m a pest. All that was left was a tiny
Lines on forehead are deepening. No signs of abatement of fire in our bellies. The hunger we inherited is only comforting the mouthless. Broken laughs. Strange bedfellows chopping off the murals from the lips. A body rots, stinks. Maggots fly.
I don’t know what to do sometimes, When you’re crying in my arms, All I know is my arm around you, Will protect you from your harms. Sitting there just sobbing, Shaking with your fears, Making a puddle on my
Explosions rocked Manchester Arena after finale of Ariana Grande concert where just moment before avid fans of this idol did cavort and flirt shattering poignant moments, when one than another attendant did amidst helter skelter yell and blurt now treasured
Winter fogs are delving over city Like birds of prey with breathless cold Each drop moistens your lips Passing shivering kisses like beloved. The last afternoon sun that brought comforting warm Meekly knocking at the door of grey sky, Her
It is most just and so fair And not just any scrap of square. For gentle lady and kind Sir Need this linen to leave and stir. Her flowing sari is draped perfectly The blouse contrasts most fittingly. Her hair
Deep down thighs, unhoisted, what was there, harvesting the sperms? At dusk an inflorescence breaks into myriads of fireworks, wrecked apologia, interned unlikeness, insanity, kissing the goldenrod to start the flow of bare grief. I deserve no nobility, my moonscape
Our freedom began with the historic words At the midnight when the world sleeps India will awake we did wake to freedom It’s now the sixty ninth year of freedom But what sort of freedom is this A handful of those
He climbs on his being, crawls like a lizard; frightens. Sometimes after, in a shock falls back. Runs away leaving behind a trembling trail. ———————————— He climbs on his being, crawls like a lizard; frightens. Sometimes after, in a shock
Knee deep in snow I walk. Listening to the wind in the trees, flying snow everywhere. Silent the sound. Just the rustling of tree limbs flying snow. I walk through the forest cleansing my my mind. Squirrels in the trees
Trapped in your body a city starts screaming. The master has broken off a huge iceberg. An Antarctica is burning like hermitage from the spark of a red robe. Lips are riddled with lies. No face is left to smile.
I’ve blown some rocks and now I’m chillin’, An’ around my head my thoughts are swillin’, It’s a warmin’ cool without a doubt, So good when lighten’d up an’ mellow’d out. In dear drugs I find solace, not cheap friends!
They called me a king, back when I was still nothing. I knew they saw something, but I just couldn’t bear knowing… that I would never be a delicate instrument. Such as words said, uttered, written down on a piece,
Building a relationship takes time. A slow becoming of each other’s identity. A steady student in a firm desk where attendance is vital and homework isn’t necessarily done with pen and paper. To willingly give until nothing is left, to
And so, with trembling heart I dare to embrace your clean white sheet And mark it with my scribblings. To make a sentence, where to start? And where to feel complete? Does it matter if my style don’t rhyme? I’m
Travelling through these barren lands, Thoughts unprecedented flickered in my mind. And here I was standing near the diversion, Wondering which road do I travel by? Lying in front of me were two distant roads, One grassy and frequently travelled
One crisp scaffold. Was it possible that it became generous? For the street which turns the mutation into xenograft. I pretend to be which I am not for fear of dying daily or sleep no more in the lineage of
I ask you to bring many things When you plan to visit me I search for those expectantly Forgetting the speech of your eyes And miss your presence The glowing rainbows and the blue sky You created in my room
There’s a pile of wounded umbrellas overlapping in the derelict doorway, sure to be some kind of slumbering gorilla back there, grinding its gray knuckles into the tiles and broken glass. Hundreds of people walking by on market day, bands
Spring time and rain blooming of flowers purple haze of a storm on the horizon gray is mixed above the cloudline memories of you and me becoming one as A Storm of Fire passion melting like fervent heat butterflies in
Whole world hides in your liquid eyes, I need to return to my consciousness, to change my verse. The dry air has wiped out the beautiful words sitting on the edge, of a meaning I write a new song. Discovering
If not for that pitcher of ugly beer, We’d never have been in love. You for once would never have Made sense of my drunken chatter. Nor I found your stubble anything to Die for, considering how they prick My