Orchard poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of orchard poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on orchard are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Splashes of green lined up row after row. Limbs of green shooting skyward downward everywhere. Vibrant light shades of newness this time every year. Each displaying its own vibrant uniqueness. As the winds blow hot, green takes on a mature
O; happy folk, poetry is the fingers of light, descending at evening like an old farmer with eyes cut from azure. It told me that the sun has two long braids, and goes out at dawn to her grandfather’s flourishing
Come morning I battle with flight or fright The start of righting wrongs, The splatter among these trees And fields that have been driven passed up In search of more than sugarcanes I still feel the butterflies How lithe things
In good old days I built adobe houses for each memory but then came flooding, freezing and again flooding even the scarecrow’s shirt discolored in our orchard with red apples However you still ask me what happened, how do I
I have a lush green garden full of Charming snakes, Their frightful sight can give heart attacks. Though in appearance attractive and sleek, Their dominance can make your life very bleak. My garden attracts them to fulfil their greed, They
In the dale of despondency, Lost hopes finding themselves, With the first rays of yellowish sun, Life is taking a new turn, Baby bird is ready to fly, Singing his first song in the sky, After a long time I
Those days the sun flew over me like corn flour, freshly ground at the millrace. Even in winter it was yellow when I pressed it down with my thumb, like an unfastened button on my chest. I could hardly cut
Let Freedom Ring from Extremity to Extremity. Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! The only word in the dictionary of liberty, water that nourishes the tree of liberty, Chlorophyll in every green plant, the photosynthesis of life. Freedom millions had sought and died
His eyes start to shimmer, as the morning dew arrives, Like the reflection in a mirror, His whole story written in his eyes, The glassy film he’s wearing, hides the truth behind his lies, For as he’s moving on through
From the lakes in New Hampshire to the sand dunes of Cape Cod. From the mountains of Vermont to the seaports of Rhode Island. From the rocky seacoast of Maine to the Gold Coast of Connecticut. Winters of snow and
I remembered my childhood in the cherry orchard, the way I did not want to complain about my too long name or about the fact that other children avoided me. I believed that for those who never lie to others
Sciences has opened our eyes on many fronts. We have learned much, but there is infinite knowledge to go. The Universe is larger than humans can possibly know. Our Universe as large as it is, is dwarfed in the Multiverse.
So much I keep inside for fear you won’t believe, That thought is terrifying on its own, I’m scared you would think that I’d set out to deceive, So I’ll walk this winding path all alone. Sometimes I’m confused and
We did not grieve your passing so much As the defiance that left With the passing of your ashes, into the river of sorrow Defiant you were, In front of the towering tides of the raging ocean, Defiant you were,
A sleight of the hand, a melodramatic move; Fate plays its final hand, A royal flush established, a victorious counter-move. Or was it simply you, in tandem with candor? Your misdemeanor forgotten, Simply an existential demeanor? How do you plead,
Hours before the birth of the gem, There was an affectionate argument between them; Her father said, ”Watch my child change the state as a minister”, To which her mom quipped, ”No she’ll deliver unbiased justice as a barrister.” When
Enclosed and trapped by night, I cringed then wept, While lucky to escape were thoughts for you, When through a slit, so narrow, they had crept; And wished I that towards your dreams they flew; As I have longed to
Are my words hilarious or do they make you feel delirious, but am so serious although sometimes I act mysterious, I feel you in my soul, tonight raise me like Lazarus, from the dead, and am not being superstitious, tonight
Fantasizing. Thinking. Daydreaming. Dreams she wishes were true. Wishing they were for the same reason as mine, Glances that is. I see you. Always. Everywhere. Whenever. Do you see me? Sometimes at least? Suspense. It pains me. I have to
I knew a girl with eyes always set on the next mile ahead and a heart longing for oceans she had never seen there was sand in her half brushed hair she always had happiness flooding from her pores just
I’m scrunched in partially obscured view seating, hands at my temples, elbows pressed to the balcony rail. Look up, Sherman Alexie! I squint through borrowed glasses, willing your signature pen to drop, your writer’s eyes to find me. I’m cheap.
A little childhood collecting Waste papers on a garbage dump Asked me, “Am I born to do this job?” I had no answer A childhood begging on roadside Asked me, “Is my childhood born for begging?” I had no answer
When every star is blanketed including heaven’s gate, who will paint the colours of sunrise on the lake. When hearing is of thunder with splitting huricanes, whe can sing of love of life. When speeches all run out of words