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
The hopes of a harvest seem distant, Beneath yonder scalding sun. Oh destinies are you penitent, For all that you have done. The money- lenders scream beyond the din, Of your crying starved children. Dreams in your eyes and a
Tell me about her. – Her gaze was empty. She was here, yet she wasn’t. Everyone around her in tune with reality, While she was somewhere in the distance. No one could ever reach her. She shut them all out.
If trees can talk Even a mindless rumble Everyone will gawk But they remain stiff and sombre Supposing they are under a spell Imprisoned in their present demeanour Standing erect and motionless Like the guards at Buckingham Palace When it
Unsown peaks of fear under aggression. I ask you to make a choice between I and inventing yourself. I will not abandon the tree: the animal, renunciation. The belief and emptiness will find symbols of foreverness. Ephemeral colors; Leaves will
Upon my visiting a steep rocky hill, I saw her- strange, candid and very simple; Falling apart from the lip-stick beauty; From insane odors; from the tog’s divinity – A natural doll, she’s a spirited jill. The rustic cast was
Surrender To gravity Levitate and ascend To the sun All to drop From dead last To none Demons cast out Far, far, far from here Light-years away From this Terrestrial sphere Intergalactic war zone Asteroids and shooting stars Little green
I love to see the winter trees Their twisted boughs and bony knees Contorted knuckles, warted bark The lichens staining limbs so stark If they could speak, a tale they’d tell Of suffering through winter’s hell I love the springtime’s
Her presence was like being breathless; skydiving over a foreign land you’d only seen in photos but admired, longing to visit in the cool unfamiliar majesty of a new landscape. She looked at me, and before anyone else could move,
Withstand this gruelling summer, oh dear Ere we reach the end of this world. Seasoned love of us that has been shaping For twelve years long Is no more left with hope of fancied ripening And is turning fast to
Winter winter please go Need some warm sunshine Cold nose to cold feet.. A sneeze here a sneeze there God bless you they all would say Mufflers caps jackets will do the trick From the icy chilly winter prick.. My
Two stars in the sky, Play hide ‘n’ seek with me; One, a little naughty, the other, a little shy. Twinkle, giggle, vanish! They love to play ‘Peek-a-boo…..’ They’re like the ones I bore, But a little closer, a little
only the half-truths engage the nightfall the thing of dawn asked to wait in pouring blows sponsored by sin of brutal torture burning the genitals pushing sand in mouth blood rimmed stool I become you sit on eat your dinner
Orange flower of may Bright burning fire display Big bunches in bouquets form Decorating the Earth they fall upon Rain and sunshine The season brings Pretty green beans Like rattles dangling Standing beauty beside the sidewalk Like fire engines its
Retrieving a book from the calmness of it’s nook Opening to illustrated pages to be read by children of all ages As the pages were turned, one by one An image soon appeared, as bright as the sun There before
I’m meditating in a Boise coffee shop because I’m not writing well my thoughts are a smeary slide full of animalcules contained, self-important images that could fit into a list-poem full of suggestions that dares the reader to link meanings
The aesthetic beauty of twilight , Reminds of a lost soul, In the fleeting moment of bygone years, That vanished to oblivion, Surfacing in the sea of thoughts, To bring back the silent hopes, Wishfully strewn in path of life.