Goodnight poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of goodnight poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on goodnight are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Does anyone else lie awake at night, Silently putting the world to rights, Wondering if they should get out of bed, Or keep on trying to sleep instead. It’s December and I seem to think it’s funny, To think about
As I sit here alone with my thoughts and my fears, suffering the consequence of those bought social sneers, I can’t help but embrace the judgement from peers. A reality so true; I’m nothing more than a broken old gear.
The birds chirping, The lions roaring. The flowers blooming, nature speaks of happiness! The sunlight saying ‘Hi’, The moonlight saying ‘Goodnight’, The coldness of air hugging me tight, nature speaks of love! The waves rising, The clouds crying, Rains won’t
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
She sat by the fireplace waiting, For her husband’s returning. It was Christmas Eve, He would get an early leave. She had laid the table, Switched on the light cable. The fire was warm, There was a quiet charm. The
He was vanquished All the same, Died, like the birds in Philadelphia Dead is the watchword; Death was the unholy friend Longing for some quiet But there’s a noise inside my head And the noise is uninviting The walls are
Your eyes are the only Christmas lights that deserve to be seen all year long. -Anonymous Switch off the TV, it is performing to blind eyes Unplug the internet, let’s disconnect the outside Pile duvets on the sofa and we’ll
She screamed at the edge “Fate cannot be changed”, she fell I reached my hand, like many times This time I catch thin air I screamed, shouted, begged She never came She was tired of the game That she was
The last corn popped expansively Unnecessarily loud, in a paper bag on a round glass base In a ten year old microwave (a good tool); Jennifer awaits, our first night in, alone together Her parents are at the cinema; her
Reporting my story to you Live on CNN the Cable Network News Interviews with Christiane Amanpour So ambitious she wants to write my memoir Like TmZ hasn’t already asked for more Even though I’m so unknown Boy from the projects
An individual can create a movement, so large and monumentous, it swallows deprivation whole. Fulfil missions from God, for family friends, and even foes. Angel of darkness, do not misinterpret though. Not crazy or lazy , step back and listen
I am in love with the infinite space that you provide. The calm found after each second anxiety ceases to exist, revealing that all will be fine. An invisible duct of constant wonder. You never cease to amaze me. Your
On this so cold night Laying alone I ponder How warm the bed would have felt With you having in here. Your legs wrapped around mine Spooning, curves settled so perfect That’s why it’s said “made magically for each other”.
In the deep dark woods lived a great brown bear, he was seven feet tall but the townsfolk didn’t care for although the bear was huge and had fangs and long sharp claws, all the people would make fun of
As I say goodnight, I remember before I sleep, Those good times we spent, so intense and so deep, Brings pain to know that it’s all over now, There’s no us anymore and I ask myself how, You changed the
The buff flaunts his elements in a dissenting voice. Don’t go into the lake. There were no survivors. Stop kissing the moon all night. Clouds were moving away for the coronation of the sun. The windowpane was broken. Somebody has
They minded their conversation, The ants that came marching in. Extra sugar. A little less cream. The foam from their latte circled their mouths, Disfigured steam still rising from their small cups. A light comfort found after a hard day’s
Golden beams of sunlight streaming through a bank of thunder clouds. Reflected prisms of sunlight enhancing the cloud bank in various shades of pink, blended handsomely with vibrant hues of orange and yellow. A pack of timber wolves have made
Sometimes I drift away crossing the time limits following the rivers’ way or climbing the higher summits Happily with the birds I fly or join the wolves while they cry Sometimes I like to be the sun sole and aloof
Each one of us has a story And one that should be shared Not one that’s strict and rigid Nor overly prepared But one that comes straight from the heart The journey you’ve been taking Of things you’ve done, the
(1) Quote Look into my eyes and see nothing Look into my heart and experience the world Look into love and see GOD! —————————————————————————————————————– (2) SIGHT What is sight? If not to see. The blind sees beauty For they do
I see no change In age.. For some years that were before, Childhood days were happy, Young age was to make merry. There was the sky and heaven, I was roaming as Romeo even. Then came established life; there was
Poetry evokes feelings, Stimulates thoughtful expressions, Evolving a strange emotion, Of an image in mind. It transforms everything, With a new perspective, A reflection of a photographic sight, In significant verses. Poetry is a pictorial, Imagery of words, Intensely used
‘Cede yourself to me, And you will never be alone again. You’ll be revered. Adored. Treasured. But you must give yourself to me- A willing concedes’, Fiend allures. My conscious says acutely ‘Don’t listen’ And for an instant I don’t
A double minded man is unstable in all his ways, His trials and tribulations shall rule his nights and days. Like the sea driven by the winds and tossed, His very own soul will be his final cost. He wants
Falling asleep deeper and deeper reality fading within my slumber, clearer and clearer it would become the dream I’d dream. So in this reality now I’d be. So which is real the dream I’d dream or waking up from where
What do you believe? Why do you believe it? How did you learn it? Who taught you? What where their motives. Ideas not men rule the world. Some believe in religion, some do not. Some believe in life after death,
Casuarina! I miss you a lot. Why don’t you reclaim this drab century by your drooping branches, off from the poetry of water? The words are dried up. No rustling sounds, the winged creatures broke the mirrors, a black moon.
The ever youthful never sober, always cheerful and smiling, a man of solid virtues and discipline bid adieu to this world of umpteen wonder after scoring a memorable century to the disappointment of thousands of his admirers Nelamangala Venkataraman Sharma