Crowns poems bring the best collection of short and long crowns poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great crowns rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these crowns poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on crowns are here for you.
Remember that fairy tale we read together? The prince and princess wearing crowns stellar studded with the rarest of gems! I got similar ones made by my jeweler. But he said he’d have to use artificial colored stones I Compromised!
What rules the lives of men: beggars and kings, And those between, that unseats or installs, That crowns, exiles, or that sweetens or stings, While Fate has claimed the risings and the falls? Had all outcomes been rigged for loves
How soon can you stop walking in my dreams, Though you lavish me there with everything, In dreams that make real what only seems, Awake a pauper, but in sleep a king With kingdom in the clouds that truly boasts
He was the first man your eyes opened to.. The shivering hand that touched your tiny nose.. The strong arm you cuddled on.. His love that kept brimming but never spilled.. Those eyes that made everything seem within reach.. That
Today is the day. The clouds roll away. You hear thunder and the eastern sky splits. An angel of the Lord has come asunder. The angle places one foot on land and one foot on sea. Then declares that time
They stood there smiling in black and white holding their fingers tender and tight. They knew the secrets of a past tense heart they knew of a future ’till death do us part’. They tell a story that starts with
Rose for my love, the best that heaven owns, The fairest Earth could bloom beneath the skies, As tucked upon her hair instead of crowns, Bestows well what the lack of crowns denies; That wisp of cloudiness above her head,
Whisper not immortality to me.. For I have already won that game, These hollow golden crowns deceive me no more, my dear friend My road has been a masterpiece of chaos in every beautiful form, So abundant in robust convictions,
These souls incognito, twice removed, sipping the ‘blue-bloods’ auric crowns, burning spirit candle’s flame of attitude, turn you inside-out like puppet clowns. While you eat the flesh of every other, fashioning conscience by divine right, pyramid’s eye is blind n’
Razor Shells and fleshed-out stitches. Endless boredom, life just glitches. Non stop breeding and a circle’s lining, Eggs incubation, feelings thrown astray. I don’t need more problems, just stay away! Adorn a blanket robe like I’m 5 years old. Still
The king is dead! Long live the king! History of rulers is no different from ordinary mortals, The crowns and kohinoors travel from one head to another uneasier head. Emperors, Monarchs, Kings, Pharaohs abdicated By methods natural and unnatural, Thrones
I looked from my window into a open space A tree stood lonely and swayed with mighty grace In the sky the clouds were gathering dark with silver lining Circling round and moving like a sheep farm shearing From a
Marginality// By: Fareed Ghanem **** (1) When eyes rain on beautiful steps along a novel’s paths, while you stay out of the text, know that you are put in the margins; when you boil like sleepless volcano, just to furnish
After my final curtain call when the stage lights dim, what will life hold to see, at the end of my show when the ink has dried, what will become of me? Clutching crumbling pen between trembling fingers of a
Picnic in a secluded meadow Strawberries and Champagne On our lips as them sweet Kisses follow we can’t help But to give into our passion On a blanket as soft as Summer clouds… What a perfect day for kindred Hearts
The dew, now a honey gold, slipped between the blades of lush, The cleansing dawn, The morning hush, The clearing of sky, The fleeting rush. With a twinkle in my eye, And dreams unborn, I rose to the awakening, Of
Don’t let your heart become a paper boat sailing towards childhood, Towards the harbor of its never returning fragrances, Don’t float towards its crescent moons if you could, or the enchanting crooning of its past tenses. Don’t become an interpreter
Wanting more of you in the bed of moon, where present and past were disrobing. The bee stings, O my god, arrange the pure darkness of milk, hanging on persona of future. The yielding was painful, its blankness. You were
Heavenly peace is not here we say, But that’s not true, Strong people always dominate a prey, But that’s not true. Like fingers are different though reside together, We all are different but made of same leather, Laughing, loving and
When I discovered a lake in me, on surface some moonlight When I found some wildflower and sun rays permeated my being, When I got every answer and a saturated silence, deep inside a sweet thing called life smiled I
Sometimes, I look for a door in the floor of my bedroom— even though there’s no such door—just because it’ll be such an awesome thing to have. Wouldn’t you want one? I’ll become the envy of all my (imaginary) friends.
Silver-green feathers of foxtails, nodding lazily through rusted wire fences, The orange-gold chalice of a single poppy in a sea of tender grass, Meandering sidewalks—charcoal-gray ribbons of asphalt, fractured by weedy cracks— Palm trees and fir trees and the spreading
The pleasure of anxiety being in its far remove a perpetual huntress Forwards, backwards at all moments present fully swift lithe arm holds a dagger ever changing form and mass one moment a broad baselard next a tight stilletto willy
Her Love for Africa! A sun rises in the morning because a new day has begun, And in that day much is expected to achieve. From every field worked on, a harvest is expected. Likewise for each day we live
The Thing that helps me see… makes the world blurry. The Thing that makes me laugh…. makes me cry. The Thing that fixed me… is broken. The Thing that I try to show off… is terrible. The Thing they call
Dearly loved, in your lips; I long to be your flute of love! And wish to be a lotus flower in your beautiful hands! Dreams are unpredictable Horizons become wider; shivering feathers of a Blue peacock looks for the pearl
Ceramic memories and terracotta pain; the injured crypt ultimately got opened. At urn burial, the name was absent. A pristine ritual for a nameless martyr. The sword within him was not used and pubescent bomb went unexploded. You leave a
For ages, her life has been A journey of endless strife Most of the times unrecognised Generation after generation Beautiful as a part of nature itself In whose lap she is born and brought up She grows up to attain
the punctuations start crumbling a soldier falls to coyotes this was their space a moon was sitting in waiting room inhabiting war at a defining moment it was a fatal attack from the guards impersonal ripping through the passions to
I thought the biggest lie, That I’ve ever heard.. Is, as we let time fly, Feelings get blurred…! But nothing changed, As the flame was still strong… I had been estranged, And I knew it was wrong…!! It seemed years
The beauty and aroma of that kingly pink rose, caught my sense and forced me to pluck that natural pose. Attracted by its mystery, knowing little about its history, just looking at its pinky blush, my feelings ran deeply flush.
Grant me but these easy wishes: Simple fare my daily dishes; Safe fare from vice and vanity; Work-joy, love, peace and sanity; A quiet mind and quiet breath And when I die, a quiet death; Thereafter, grant me dissolution, Anonymity