Landscapes Poems

Her presence was like being breathless; skydiving over a foreign land you’d only seen in photos but admired, longing to visit in the cool unfamiliar majesty of a new landscape. She looked at me, and before anyone else could move,

Where are the spider legged elephants now That trekked across the red horizon, the hush Of twilight trailing just behind them in their wake? We saw them towering over the vast savanna Shimmering in the atmosphere The tall grass waving

Welcome,welcome,welcome, Welcome to Paradise Welcome to Nainital. A heaven on earth, Sun-kissed mountains. Yachting,boating on serene lakes, The charming lakes and splendid landscapes. The most beautiful romantic place, In the Lake District of India. Nainital is the Majestic Queen of

You, The Oceans of Beauties, Master of all treasures beautiful. Within moments you can make us laugh, Within no time,You can have us crying. Beautiful you are, the source of all beauty, Creator of everything that looks pretty. Beautiful landscapes

Pander to the broken once more shall you see, the changes made, Above the mighty Stereo Surrendering, only to ignite streams to pour From the fountain of the Infinite Well. Oh! allow such splendor to splash upon a page Aplomb!

A skylight begins the apartheid in ironed out differences. At the shores skulls have reappeared. Blue flames were eating away the green carbon of the dying giants. Fake photosynthesis was canning the skimmed breeze in books and encapsulated euthanasia was

Walking beside a river, watching landscapes mirror underneath the sun Subtle colours, everyone encapsulated by the river pictures all across and along Yellow flowers, look at them for hours and the branches stretch like towers, entwining from earth to beauty

You are not a season but a presence, An imagined whisper in someone’s ear. And with your hollow footsteps of silence, Perhaps a traveler who is not here. A Phantom that haunts the city, That we inhabit while we are

I’ve fallen in love with the poet In all its dimensions rippling across the pool of time, incarnate in its everything the rosy cheeked and wet lipped girl rattling existential verse over the clamor of a twelve car train, barreling

What sad weary eyes we have that see, in all the world, such poverty and pointless pain. Would not the sunlight bathe upon it if we simply look again? For the eye of the beholder may choose the depth of

Introduction: Aldo Leopold (January 11, 1887 -April 21, 1948) was an American author, scientist, ecologist, forester, environmentalist, and conservationist. In the 1920-1930 eras, he moved to the Baraboo, Wisconsin area. The grey wolf was viewed as a predator, to be

One day a book materializes And floats off store shelves; The other side of earthly farewells, It describes and tells. Upon its arrival, It trends and goes viral; There’s no literary rival – Life’s AfterParty is the title. THE DEFINITIVE

My conscience , it travels through the sky , to the music of life. Where dolphins swim in the sands of time, My risk floats, my desires fly high , as I sit on the clouds of my dreams, and

Water pouring inside the fence of beyond ten feet above the surf waves climbed higher as the tide was coming in at the usual hour Rocks mixed with shells colored brightly like a bright morning sunlight oranges, gray, blue and

There is no thought in a fired head; Symphonious splashes of singing color hide in the back behind filling-wander. In luxury his lines moves lead; The thoughtless thick then ambitious brother isolate to suffer in self-shot slander. Then, to suffer

In those moments you succumb to the windless state, before mills dormant arms When you shed colored skies and scented breeze, letters detach from their horizontal stance. This familiar place of utter embraced distance, this far edge of nameless field.

Oh Lord Almighty!! as I stand here crippled I complain to thee!! for making me crooked I look around, everything’s so nice You have filled me with only vice!! All trees flowers birds and bees Oh I envy all of

I… signed your smile while pain betrayed today’s genesis stunning relief beneath purple galaxy filaments. smile awhile, while sourwood fall atop meadows dipped mystic dew of old untolds renewing that Me… Us… running steps mountain high…valley depths saturate sweet sweat

I heard so many complaints That is from all of you “you don’t call me you don’t have time to receive my call how do you recall me you have forget me to go other states thank you so much

Our cries are a whimper only the winds can hear it Like our toils unrewarded and our souls unsoothed We the children of god as they may appease Still tight are our clutches and our lives choked Our minds raced

Whereby: The scent of your breath love dances like a butterfly. Drenched in your raining desire lush spring awaits. Yearnings whispered vigorously. The sun kissed golden season’s ancient story filled with certainty and uncertainty. Every word I utter reflects you.

From birth to death I am on alter Everything is destined then how can I falter Without no fault I am defaulter Only good faith can be exalter The creation has to follow path of creator Between good and bad

She smiled like the sun, warm and bright- Ushering her brightness all around her; like the winter sun-light… Many would give their hearts for her, for she was beautiful, But she pretty, too pretty in fact to fall for them-

Beneath the lipstick, make-up and behind the smile, She is just a model who poses before you; for a while; Between the lines; below the sentences; She domains, Dressed up in white, with an angelic look; she remains. Human or

Ships at bay come and go every day and every night at Lakeland Manor and sailors are welcome to stay but only if they are brave…It is a beautiful castle but like they say you can’t judge a book by

Now I have decided to break the chain; have no more desire to love the rain- if you ever again, want to hold me tight, you got to defeat me, in my own fight! I won’t let you forget the

In the eyes of judgment you are not worthy In your own you seek the reason why Conforming to what others think Is the first step to losing yourself Losing yourself is the first step to living a lie Indulge

I find something beautifully heartbreaking about the sound of a string quartet playing in a minor key. As the first bow glides across the strings my heart moves in ways unknown to me. I close my eyes and imagine I

No matter how many nails you put in my coffin, You can’t stop my soul from wandering, I will always stay close to you, To protect you, to care for you, You might tame your thoughts, your feelings, But my

Sifting through the sands of time trying to make out truth from lies I realize that there is no telling the truth everything is a lie, everything is a truth.. The moments color the perception emotions add the hues shades

Her arm was left out the window all night clamped at the pit which throbbed her heart hammering to do its job straining for the tiny capillaries going blue about the nail beds her arm flapped on the growing wind

It was your integrity at the time of ubiquitous pain of separation, you want to move the home away from home coming to terms with the trauma your shadow was not following you playing dead nuzzling the earth, racing to

I’m alone in my room Wondering where I went wrong Mind is cloudy My thoughts are uncontrollable But who can you call When the depression hits And the pink pills cant drown your sorrows away No One I’m alone in

Never being late, Never being fast, Never being slept, performs a watchman’s task, Keeps its sharp eyes on everybody, Works hour can’t be stop by anybody, I usually ask myself, doesn’t he feel tired? He replied; if it would be

Yes, a soul it was Unscathed by the touches of emotion Yes, a soul it was At the nascent stage Of an emotional touch Days went by And the unblemished soul Had now streaks of various hues such as: A

The bushes, I remember, have been there in the tales of my love! The breath, the tears, and the aura of virgin forest – The art, the sighs, the darkness, the motorcycle, the roads, the unending journeys, have been there!

Is that fair? Waiting to say all that when am gone Is this how friends be? ‘’He was an intelligent person Full of wisdom only he was careless’’ You say. Why saying that when am gone? Why? Why? Why? You

An aged photograph of a relative with her cherished daughter, sitting by a calm, placid lake on a sweet sparkling spring day. Wonder, joy, and amusement filled both of their unblemished, youthful faces – A family beginning its nascent, hopeful

The sunlight wakes me in the morning The atmosphere around us paints it blue The birds are singing in the morning The nature made them fly for you The mind is gentle without warning The days and nights that I’ve

The skies smiled above, The moon peeped through the cracks, Clouds black than usual, A new life arrival waited, A pain so enormous, She bore it courageously, This life had to survive, This life wasn’t hers anymore, But every ones’