Invite poems bring the best collection of short and long invite poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great invite rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these invite poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on invite are here for you.
People often invite whole family for their marriage functions generally not all the members of the family attend function some have genuine commitments,some not interested and some hate functions One who attends will have to be prepared to answer queries
Someone dropped a gun in the crowd – it clattered like candy garish glare of night-time marquees scent of every onion in the world sautéing adults walking on, a mobile forest of legs intent on getting somewhere doing something a
My deep eyes owe a few colourful dreams Blue Waters are dancing in the quiet streams I still play with the chocolate ice-creams Rubbing them against lips While licking those delicious creams Equally touching my hairband strips My dreams chase
There was once a minister who moved to San Francisco to pastor a little church. The name of that little church was Emmanuel which means “God with us”. There was an atmosphere about that little church that said to strangers
Roaring engines blow sand from the shoulder of a broken mirror, They scream into the night. Candy coats capture passing glances, The shine dances with a golden streetlight, Casting gilded dust over newly discovered worlds, Toledo and Boston, Chicago and
Frightening in your stealth, you approach like the darkest cloud. They cannot see you, but those close know you are with me. Your visits provoke their wariness, afraid they may tip the scales. Some are aware of your deceptive nature;
Be ware of those hungry eyes and greedy hands of the neighboring uncles, distant brothers, teachers and unknown grandpas!! Your innocent hearts do not know the secret pleasures of these seeming elders in respectable guise. Their dark desire coils feverishly
I’ll start with some foundation for this provides my base, It helps hide any blemish that I find upon my face, It smooths out any wrinkles, it softens up my skin, I need to match the shade I need before
Oh my Sunshine, are you looking for shade! Or do you miss the light under the scanty rain? Are you my yesterday’s reminiscence or my today’s muse in disguise? I, who fell in love with the monsoon that took away
There once was an imp whose appearance was vain, his behavior was foolish, even his speech and imposing mannerisms were maimed! From those eastern cannibalistic lands afar he and his kind had once been blessed, indentured to serve the superlative
The mysterious rival: suffering of resignation. I am reading myself for the surrealism of life, juxtaposition of love and hate. Another blast went off. White rose and black rose in the same garland; ruins of truth were older than lies.
Drop by drop the water falls down, Down on earth with a giggling sound. It makes the ground cool and soft, And nourishes the life on earth, The patter and dripping sound of rain, Brought joy and pleasure in me.
With stoicism writ on face I invite the chisels for giving birth to a dialogue between me and the shaper. Where did the things go wrong in making the life a simple page to write a beautiful poem? Buddha give
You can learn a lot about a person watching them eat an apple even watching them in the supermarket give them a five dollar bill and tell them pick out any apple you want, it’s on me those store aisles
Her dark skin and youth took the ironic decripitude out of the bargain store pictures tacked all across the wall fabric hung like proud vulvas declining to hide anything declining to invite – they were just soft walls rippling in
A colourful umbrella reminds you to tell her you’re leaving today on the train You can’t help the weather in puddles against leather as the rain flows quite gently along down the road to the drain I had sunshine so
Starting my day with your smile Sigh! I am now all left with fright and bile Sauntering on street last night requesting God to send you back in this lifetime Suddenly I was taken aback in time Sweet was your
Uninhibited violence. The disappearing she-factor in stem cells at sunset point, which could not collect the evidence.How the tomb-sweeping stopped and candles blown out? This time the thorns were bleeding, flesh was again gone out of sight, and the dark
Will the shouts work on blood seeds in climate of conflicts? Winter was shrinking. Give me a hand. I am going to invite clouds softly. Let the drumming start. War has broken out on many fronts for a god, for
I am darker than the night, Moving fast as the light. I am stealthy, I am sleek, Skipping above mountain peaks. No human hand can make me. No earthly band can raid me. Built am I to navigate dimensions, Programmed
11 There is living after death, there is death before life, Ordinary living which is in scrambles of destituteness, Destituteness of idealism, of knowledge meaningful, of utter candidness. Dull realities of weeds, weeds of rampant ignorance, averment Of void words,
I saw you walking down the road Into the mundane Could I hold you back a little into a diversion a moment of indulgence unpredictably startling smile on your face and a sweet memory that will make the mundane extraordinary..
When I look back the silent darkness I had left in the deep woods a long ago where I had planted few seeds of my memories to grow but I found those seeds grown with thorns of exasperation and annoyance
Every night, a fire burns bright Inside the cave. The one-eyed snake Comes crawling Drawn by the promise of warmth That emanates from the leaping flames. Its forked tongue struts in and out Like lightning. Its limp agile body Tightens,
I went for a walk at Monson Village today. A place in the woods where people lived in the 1700’s. Rock foundations were all that was left in each spot. Small signs marked the holes in the ground and describes
we are the innocent we are the saved destined for greatness beyond the grave never seek self to please nor that in fantasy grasping for all honesty we fall short yet we press on through the rocky terrain of faith
Look at these lines – fishing for compliments – Hooked, they drag us back. Leave us squirming on the dry bank: Palpitating, bruised from the fight. Removing the pin from the mouth It’s a painful business. But worthwhile. Who’ll throw
Rains- smells Of dampness and chill, mother’s crispies, grandma’s tea Of coming home, all wet and cold, little pools flooding the floor Of dosas on the stove, day-darkness, drying clothes, A thunder bolt from the darkened skies, Wet feathers and