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
Beneath a pile of dust, on a slumbering shelf, in a room which knows not the wind, I’d stumbled with a white-haired aphorism telling that your heart is your enemy; If it inclines left, go right; if it betakes right,
loggerhead turtles drawn to the moon become distracted, lured by airport beacons to die in strange terrain here in day’s dry whiteness lizards endlessly pause, and bats caper through clustering dusks of vines and lemons drawn from solar cells water
I live in dreams, waiting for time to come, That bud I spied would open up someday, What had been days or scant minutes for some, Became those lonely centuries to me; As sun would tarry long before it dims,
Urn was carring the snow unmelted like the soul of night. It was a very strange winter like araucaria puzzle. Who was dragging the evergreens over the chaste cliff? All the incogerent roots have broken the placenta for new gods.
Alas! This distance call, To a friend with love. Though lost in time, This time I find, this friend of mine; here in my mind, the terrain of substitution the land of freedom. put in a place where love herds,
Ah! woke up again and I realized, her baby is prettier than her eyes, and looks picture perfect with her hubby in! Then why do I still feel her eyes, staring? and her tender voice clearer than ever! her beauty
Ours is a world built on ruin. Atop the shoulders of Ozymandias, Balanced on top of pyramids, Set upon the foundations of castles Which sank into swamps long ago. Where one falls out of history, Soon another picks up the
That tribal instinct sits in the denial. Words fly in fog carrying absurd meanings. I was ready for the impeachment. Like a pinned butterfly you lived several times, repeating a dialogue on a mindless thought. From nothing to nothingness, you
Word Death is enough to scare all Many dislike me for uttering it Some see negativity in me Many thinks i spoil their mood several hesitant to open my mail All agree to disagree with my thoughts Oh ! Death
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
Silhouettes, of our memories Shadows, of our love Sunlight from the days gone by Have blinded every thought The moment stops, Hell freezes above, The devil escapes from my mind From places locked up deeper than before The discerning scent
Corsica, oh my Corsica, Corsica of a thousand charms. Corsica of whose fragrance I can distinguish from France. I delight in your coat of arms, with an image the replica of an emancipated man. You were my childhood paradise, in