Nobility poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of nobility poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on nobility are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Isabella of Aragon sitting high up upon her jewel stoned throne. Patron monarch of saints, scholars and the arts. Noble woman of the heart. Isabella of Castile Spanish Queen quiet surreal. Well and he came to her with a bargain
Corsican born, and an Emperor mighty indeed. Who from obscurity came up to prominence, who from French shores the attacks of armies repelled, who had at his disposal, Europe’s resources, who to Saint Helena from French shores was expelled, of
The other side of life behind the barbed future where they were seeking gratifications, I was entering the past, without pretension. Time will cleanse the mutation. I will be breaking the god’s boundaries. A theme of nobility has lot of
It was lack of contusion. The relief had not come. Hours were on after the nobility moved on faulted track. Methane was rising. It was white death: people were coming, people were going. Pure and muddy, the treachery was like
Deep down thighs, unhoisted, what was there, harvesting the sperms? At dusk an inflorescence breaks into myriads of fireworks, wrecked apologia, interned unlikeness, insanity, kissing the goldenrod to start the flow of bare grief. I deserve no nobility, my moonscape
let it be yourself, the brightest of the sunshine that will become, survive, fair to friends and foes, the one and all,sharing the same world. in time of the disaster, the mind for good and the assistance, the nobility of
Awesomeness incorporated in thee: beauty created, Creations agape look at thee splendidly designed! Stars of the sky shower their grandeur in awe, Mountain ranges tilted a little by thy beauty dazed, Greenery with its children paint fecundity ‘cross the horizon,
They were ready to suck the crowd. The child was pushed into lentil soup, boiling, to appease the rain god. Shining masks, the celebration starts; surging a myth, crown of hawthorn, hallucinating dance. The people lick their fingers, feast for
The golden pot of Education Education, education, education This is the most powerful weapon one can use to conquer the world. In the modern world we are living in life without education is just like a veld without plantation .
Back in the Summer of eighty five thank God I was still alive music was filling the streets as I chilled by the strip here’s the trip many girls were dressed with flames both were not ashamed the innocence of
Mellow wintry wind starts to blow. From the corner of the sky there is a pinkish glow. A fluttering and dancing rose smiles at the sky. In such ways Lord Jesus opens His eyes. Pink rays of happiness wrap old
She takes both happiness and sorrow in her stride and she remains silent without a murmur so far nobody knows what is in store for her in life One who is close now would have been stranger once Tears of
Sweet little avelyn poo, O how I enjoy seeing you. So sweet and loving too Flowing ginger hair like her momma Pretty Brown eyes so capturing Growing and learning more everyday Climbing and talking more then yesterday Little mini mouse
When Mum first presented you I thought you were a trick. Your attempts to buy me off with a Metallica C.D. demonstrated your pettiness. I didn’t say anything at the time ‘cos I didn’t want to hurt her feelings in
We often don’t think of the danger ahead while on Road We take it for granted mishaps occurs only for others We never put ourselves in the position of an accident victim We rush to the spot where accident has
Winter has the taste of melancholy; my window puts on a cloak of glass, wraps its face with a shawl of lead and drops cold tears, each time universe shrinks. (2) Migrant birds have a travelling homeland in sky and
Summer sun strikes the earth with hot rays, As the honey bee stings the flowers with dismay. Her apple cheeks get redder than the dusk, pitiless rays never mind to do such silly task. The hot kisses of sun parch
There was thunder in the hut teeth clattered under the ground. Handcuffed you walk in inequality to qualify for hanging till dead. I may not tell myself what was happening to me. Moving in opposite direction the bird was able
Silhouettes more real than bodies degenerating into the dungeons of secrecy talking with mustaches seeing with fingers ignorant of colors refugees in their own land bereft of fun stars peep out during the day time to see the tangled twigs
The voices, unheard The image, unseen. The crevasse that separates The analysis from my mind. It can’t reach me, as I cannot reach it myself. But still I am told to reach For the goal that I cannot see. Before,
If these walls could speak they would tell you, The tale of sweet girlhood Of wild hair and bright eyes Heartache and sacred ties Whispered secrets-too many to tell A purple wall and a cow bell Woes and delights in
We the people, we the youth, we the creatures, these all are universal truth. We the destroyers will remain mute as we will not get any ripe fruit. We the masters, we the blasters, we can stop many disasters. We
No barb wire or wall will separate us No passport to identify No entrance fee or currency No politician of Police man to scare our fundamentals No wall clock ticking No alarms disturbing No black man or white man ruling
We have many levels of beautiful Some are clear and visible, We may touch an adorableness, Skins depth though questionable of beauty. Imagine all the colours see the silhouette, Lustrous smooth and adorable, Blush fullness of the lips, Yet still
When you wake up. Is it worth it. Facing another day. Feeling nothing but psychological pain. Feeling like no one cares about you. Thinking that your life is worthless. Feeling that your insignificant. Knowing you have freinds but feeling alone.
Nestled high in the Rocky Mountain Range, a mystical valley is uniquely situated. Eloquently encased by snow draped peaks. A breading ground for Hoary Marmots. Continually feeding a high spirited pack of massive wolves, is found. These massive wolves are
He gorged on her dreams with no regret no shame. Afterall, he owned her now. while she hoped that the knot would not change him, she felt herself losing her smile, losing her soul. As the drone of nothingness within
Somewhere in between the waking and the dream, I can feel you close to me. Just before times hands reshape the desert sands, I can feel you reach for me. In the blink of tear stained eyes, watching weary to
Hold me tightly as a creeper holds a tree, and adores, Kiss me time and again like a wave touches sea shore. Be with me forever as moon and earth stay together, Love me unconditionally as God loves all creatures.
Moving from one green pasture to another a lost ignorant soul not absorbed by anything around when he feels hungry he steals when he feels scared he ravages when he is happy, he sings and dances to the tune tune