Groom poems bring the best collection of short and long groom poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great groom rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these groom poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on groom are here for you.
Left in fuchsia, left awful, never happen, smiled and gazed, waited until twilight, never came, , left solo, left naught, left heartbroken, no place to be found. ran, barefoot and red, eyes blurry with pain. left me, escaped passed strangers,
loving male, natural of pleasure, quintessentially rendered suitable to us via way ova our darling daughter. tis the blessing of this average, contemplative damn ejected flotsam globular human impish jokester kooky lamb misunderstood nonestablishmentarian outlier praises quality ram rod sterling
‘Twas on the eve of St Agnes’ Day, When young virgin’s minds fly astray; Stacey lay her body bare To January’s freezing air. She cast her liquid ebon eyes, Up to the boundless starry skies, Hoping to find in that
We’ll settle by the bar and watch the women dance, then split a likely pair when we think we stand a chance. I’ve one eye on the bridesmaid with the skirt that’s riding high, showing off the daisy, tattooed upon
Moon was wandering in the dim sunlight, Incomplete and looking for a charming Miss Right, His father sun, recollecting his own lovely days, His mother earth, still wet with his rays, Beyond the ocean an aurora appeared, Sun kissed the
It started with us the two of us, involving everyone around us, We dream to share the love within We dare to become one, keeping in mind each others priorities first, We wish to live with the spirit and guide
A pretty damsel clad in her White Wedding Gown, As if a heavenly Hoori from paradise is coming, With her jewelled crown. The white transparent veil can’t conceal her beauty, The moon-faced bride is looking extremely pretty. Her midnight eyes
At Sarnath the deer park where Gautama the Buddha first taught the dharma FROM THE HEART –A BHIKSHU’S SUPPLICATION Enlightened lord your wisdom is our knowledge , sufficient is that knowledge to ensure our covenant with wisdom in its turn
Seeking a bride at my ripe age Getting married amidst near and dear feeling as a special person in the groom’s attire Humming those romantic tunes holding her hand experiencing the heavenly feeling at our honeymoon decorating our little hamlet
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.
I could see him leave, leaving me alone. I weep and cry, not showing it at all. I think about him, every minute, every second, every moment. Where is he now? I wonder… Has he found someone better, than me?
Play a cheerful note Chant a joyful thought Be in love with butterflies With silkworms And the starry skies ….. With beetles With a cockroach song With rivers running all along…. With seas and oceans and the moon With a
After a grand design there was a white leap to find a boat in darkness. Time was dusting the frame of memory, and the age will grieve for the lost vision. The pace of assaults will increase over the burning
The crowd buzzed like a hornet’s nest The cacophony too loud The girl on stage was all alone Staring beyond the crowd The colours around All red and yellow meant to reflect The bridal glow Spectators sitting Speculations were rife
The full Moon is on wane Shedding her last attic glory on Earth And every aspects of Earth’s being Scorched too much in blazing Sun, Enjoying the Moonshine bath like budding spinsters Drenching in swelling teenage mirth. The air is
Dot maketh a man blind, beware of the outcome ’tis a drought, fandangle dingus maketh a relationship, acerbic as rum ’tis not an espousal, ’tis a fungus Humans , worshipers of everything Gods, demons or a fane find occurrences to
With no mother to groom you, you grew as a wild child. with no gardener to prune you, you grew as a wild shrub. as a stone, you rolled on riverbeds, rolled down mountains, rolled in the hands of strangers,
Fear not, my friends, of dreaming For those who call themselves realists, will have faith, none, in you Fear not, my friends, of loving For those who call themselves heartbroken, will have faith, none, in you Fear not, my friends,
Those days, not gone, still within me, Full of love, my mad love-scenes, With fantasies, and fallacies of colorful days, We paved through narrow, secluded streets, Shady meadows, gardens, water-falls, Pubs and coffee-club cabins, you and me, In deep love;
A crooked slanting moon shifts the eye comes under the chaste tree and washes the tainted victory. Wolves start howling at the tomb of unknown martyr, man-eaters recoil on the sugar island and talk about destinies, A mourning crowd walks
O flamingo, your pink is fading. Pick up the spirulina, it was caste-based. It hits there, where it hurts more. You were chasing, standing on one leg salt was dwindling in the lake. The stink unlike you is going to
A lifetime spent keeping life on track, Just to save oneself from any setbacks! No singing and dancing on life’s cruise; A ride without any fun, what’s the use?! Rather than comprehend nature’s truest gestures Better carry out wonderful adventures
Why must you lure me so? You bewitching jewel, your radiant skin is only matched by the glint in your eyes. Your hair cascades down your shoulders with More conviction than the most splendid waterfall, But after all this, do
In the midst of hazy cloudy and misty morning she appeared like an angel looking at me and smiling.. For a moment It struck to me like an Lightening and my heart started beating the romantic tuning and was feeling
The dice were loaded right from the start what would they roll was destiny’s game would it be love or would they roll out hate would they lead to bliss or bitterness was the fate strange are the chances and
Stovepipe tall and thin, all the shades of gray. Eyes so new you might think he’d sprung from a black snake firework. In tumescent jack-in-the-box, sprung toward the clouds. Likely to fall over yet, somehow both erect. And able to
The Layman (Or: When History Repeats Itself)// By: Fareed Ghanem **** He is a layman, just like a gulp of water from a brook passing here by chance. His features are gratis, his eye-brows a bush of terebinth, furze, chicories
I refuse to follow you. I refuse to borrow your words, your ideas, your beliefs. Limiting preachings of fragmented minds. I refuse to follow you. I refuse to adopt your meanings, interpretations, definitions. Confining parameters, conditioning. I refuse to follow
You know the hardest things in life. Is to be supportive to a person who has serious problems and will not admit in having them. Life is like a streaming water flowing and still but deeper than and angry waves.
My love, I always dream of your return, When bluish hues adorn the skies above, And kindled hearth, with glowing embers burn All through those blissful nights, so filled with love; Where countless blooms would scent the wafting breeze Across
You are dying inside me, my little god. I am awakening after a long pause. The forked hazel wand does not bend back, perched on a buried treasure. I am disembarking from divining. I stayed without body, nervous; like aspen