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
You live in a world where evil prevails. you’re trying to find a way out eventually, your body becomes frail peace becomes a doubt Life isn’t what it used to be only confined to toys now its as deep as
The forefathers left me alone till and even yesterday. I am here, for they lived and died for millions of years , till and even yesterday. To think that they were only gents is a misunderstanding. It includes an Aunt,
From the land of bestrode came Ambrose the toad, With boring tales of a bureaucratic charade. Why would this old fart, with always the same start, Repeat old stories about the British Brigade? He’d tell you everything he could, Though
I once loved this girl Whose smile shone like a pearl, And at the school dance With every glance, She could make the boys stare With her elegant swirl. She had the most perfect scent With a busty set of
Like ashes stacked in a jar of indifference tightly capped to mask a stench so cruel from cigarette butts worth riddance- you caused me self decay and dismal. You put me out like those cigarettes in an ashtray of cares
Whenever, I feel tired and exhausted, From life’s monotonous routine, I go to my courtyard Theatre, On the enormous screen, Watching the free natural movie scenes, Projected by The Almighty Producer. The scenes change there with the passage, Of the
The smirks and taunts upon the faces People who try to diminish your value Every action judged,critiqued with words Flung at you from on high Where they sit with superiority Like a girl, they say You throw the ball You’re
Let me navigate the resentment in non-verbal manner, I go in myself, dislocating the whole experience of goodness for vulnerability I was stung a hundred times into playing a role not of mine deceiving the life, which was on the
Bleed,let the world bleed, In the mind of a dehumanizer, Terminating the evil of evils, Thoughts gone wrong. The carrier of bread and morsel, The Devil looks down on him, Kalashnikovs,Panzerfausts and what not, Leaving behind the corpses of the
If only we were bones We wouldn’t throw so many stones Separated by this skin We seem to forget we’re all human Brother killing brother All for their flesh’s color Inequality uncontrolled Because of the lies we’ve all been told
To celebrate a beautiful sin on the green lake a sequelae starts a covetous lust of white skulls, discovering oneself was as exciting as the fondling of breast for the first time – innocent graveside, road burning stretching to throbbing
Liars are them who say aren’t afraid of the dark. Monsters under them bed they fear… The howl of wolf at a distance they hear… Liars are them who say they aren’t afraid of the dark. Marshy creeks. Silence shrieks.
As fiery shooting stars blaze in the sky, Many must have gambled wishes right then, And if by chance, my love, too, watches by, Could she have wished to be with me again? As no limit curtails what heart oft