Conservationists poems bring the best collection of short and long conservationists poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great conservationists rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these conservationists poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on conservationists are here for you.
The Imitation Sounds- Their Sounds: Like lion he roars, growls like a male tiger warning intruder or a bear on prowl for vengeance. He gibbers like an ape, chatter as a monkey, screams like a chimpanzee. Do you bark like
The fish in the river died And the river became foul smelling. There was blood all over In containers both of wood and of stone. In houses both of Pharaoh and the peasants In nations, both of the government and
Bearded face still looks from the severed head, in timeless gaze after the spitting blast. A nimbus cloud is lobbed on the tormentor to stop burning; the silver urn contains the daisy sick to wean away the enemy of tender
Missing: The perfect guy if found contact me you’ll know where i’ll be just look into his eyes and you’ll see. he’s about six feet tall, he’s a lair in love with football, treat you to nice meals and never
Heart of the earth- heart of the star, fire raging through me can I handle one more moment of this awesome ecstasy? energy flowing up in me- lightning pulsing down on me singing eternal memories… melodies arcing up- cascading down-
I feel like I’m going to spin in circles. I feel like falling onto the grass and staring at the clouds. I feel like laughing and acting like a child. I feel like drinking alcohol and smoking some good stuff…
A quick glance upon the face A rush to judgment Frown lines, a curled lip A hard look reflecting the unfriendly A hard look reflecting the unkind A hard look reflecting the unhappy Look again, upon the mirror this time
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.
The moral dilemma was unlearning. less than truth. Downgrading the- branded witch. Vaccine was spawning new virus. O Buddha, why did you started looking beautiful and began sitting in a living room? Trailing the smoke I was going to find
« I shall remember while the light lasts And in the darkness I shall not forget » [“Non-Catholic” Cemetery, Rome: headstone 2515] Unable to Enlighten the twilight between consciousness And unconsciousness She leaves aside the despair Of those attending -Just
Sometimes you cry. And that’s okay. It doesn’t make you weak. It never means you’re frail. It means you’re strong… Stronger than they know. Sometimes you have to let some bad out to make room for more strength. And, my
The visionary, Atlas, Shrugged his shoulders as he regarded The city of kings, Collapsed under its own weight. Remnants of an unachievable dream Haunt the few remaining halls, Corrupted and skewed creatures That feel no remorse, and The servant girls
By the moon I drink you again. The night is trembling; ruffles the colossal tears. The terrible ache of the illegitimate mercy. I am not accepting any poem half-dead under my pen. The invisible force, bribing the tears was a
Stranger, why should I not smile at you? Why should we be entrapped under false separations of race, color, caste, creed or any duality? Are not we beings cast in the image of God? Is not all – one! We
What is the thing of poverty, of frozen pain, fury under the snow, between fire and rain? You come on the surface to breathe, douse with petrol and show off a flame. A slum of emotions burns with rage. The
Sublime spirits trapped in a bottle The fallen son rises to do battle A hero of the lord risen from sin The walls of resolve grow ever thin Break the bond, release the spirit The will prays, but the heart’s
ONCE THERE WERE TWO MAGNIFICENT TOWERS, WHERE LIVED AND WORKED SO MANY OF OURS. IT TOOK SEVEN LONG YEARS TO BUILD THEM STRAIGHT, THEY STOOD NEAR THE EMPIRE STATE. THIS EVENT HAPPENED ON ELEVENTH OF SEPTEMBER, ITS AN OCCURRENCE THAT
That day was exhilarating, My heart was already drenching, Split Second I saw, in awe, Gathered my courage to jaw, Time was too good to be true, No thought to subdue, A Kiss, full of bliss, was hard to miss,
Everyday I stand Bold on my Roots Giving you all the reasons to Live Feeding your Wards with all of my Fruits Even after all the Tortures you Give You need me today to build your Nest Everyday it’s not
It oftentimes comes to pass Amid the thorns and briars of our earthly being That we do fail to comprehend the genuine meaning Of the celestial signs of a mass, Or of the words engraved upon the plates of brass…
Beings of erotica were at the gates of heaven. Shell-shocked, the city was becoming political but people were absconding. It was global warming for obscenity. The remoteness was collapsing and moons had come in my arms. Smoking the serrated leaves
Since I saw you, I’ve had this hope live in me. That everything that isn’t needed be gone. The details of sales papers, shopping carts. The ease of temptation. Standing still. To fill my cart full of things I don’t
Hey , you awesome mountain stream ! Dashing out on a playful spree Allow me to join your great journey From the sky high hills to the level of sea Mesmerised by your magical appearance My heart has always sought
I picture you with clarity of vision, I picture you with faith and spirit; I picture you accomplishing the mission, I picture you with character and merit. I picture you with inner peace and stability, I picture you fighting for
Life is a journey, Every second a challenge, Along many paths, Never at same crossroads. A moment’s significance, Tiny choices reverberate, Resonating ripple around, In its intensity. Some frozen moments, Hidden in the heart, Sink deep and fall into, The
Living against the food amnesia gold bricks call for austerity in passage of the hunger. Canons hanging in their necks it was the silence of death. Whispers were floating in night. The bodies will free us from gold cure, tasting
Bones knit, and stretched, and grew, and tendons tightened to the point of breaking, but, for all the pain, I never seemed to grow, much. My father whet his hands with olive oil, from an old bottle, corked with cotton
Been a Christian, been Jew. A Mormon and a Muslim too. After walking each path, finding none quite right, my eyes opened wide to true simple light. To love and hear compassions sweet song, it was spiritualism whispering all along.
Women live by heart Men live by their heads. Former is close to Nature The latter aims at assets. Women’s path is of love Men’s is of meditation, Former flows out of heart The latter from concentration. Women tend to
The lines of time stretched pulled torn ripped apart. As the time passes, it is as the distance, grand yet minuscule, an odd yet frightful reminder. And as it grows, the pain loses precision, the sharpness fading, like morning fog.
A present overwhelmed with fear is easy to realize when all you have is secrets you wish to keep oblivious- from those whom you care for and seek their forgiveness These realizations are lessons learned through regrets- remorse, and most