Petal poems bring the best collection of short and long petal poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great petal rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these petal poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on petal are here for you.
A bumblebee cheated on a tiny petal by sucking its sweet nectar Tiny petal felt hurt, and went into desperation One ominous morning tiny petal breathed its last, and journey ended Now deceptive bee could no more steal the honeydew
Like every morning, he has just returned from his office and is right in-front of one of his roommate and so called friend’s lappy’; Going through all previous messages sent by her on Facebook. No doubt, his life has been
Poison is a woman’s choice, When it comes to dealing death. Those able hands that ladle love, Can dribble death in dollop; Amative breasts can often sting, Bedaubed in aspine wreath. Poison is a woman’s choice, When it comes to
Rows and rows of books wearing pressed monogrammed jackets aligned at attention upon the shelves edges stained lightly by time. To wring out one more droplet of thought from drying script These aging eyes thirst to caress sweet ebony lines
You’re my personal brand of cocaine, surely you should suppress the suffering and numb the pain. My rose petal lips are engulfed in your kiss of death. I worship at your feet, when I have you, who really needs meth?
I know not whether it was of ginger, berry or bergamot _it was fabric and she wore it instantly like a shimmer_ voluptuous almond ‘vollmond’ of gothic ‘purpur’, voice creature telling glow-in-the-dark lies _beautiful. Entering. Barrel organ unravelled and chimes
Between the zeros and the ones, a paisley tablecloth is spread, and atop it rest white lace napkins, the yellow butter and the butter knife, the wine glasses, the teacups, the water jug filled with ice – a mundane scene
Arms stretched high Voice pitched high Let me sing Song of freedom Tender shall be the song As the petal of fresh rose Fresh as the droplet of summer rain Sharper it shall be As the rains of winter sun
Their fingers gently interlocking, each clasped the other’s hand. In silence whilst they slowly walked, on the soft, warm, evening sand. Just an occasional inquiring glance, into the other’s eyes. Spirits in a romantic waltz, such depth of feeling a
Are you the gentle breeze that, Wafting timidly o’er the arid lands, Bring with it the bounteous seeds Of life, scattering them far and wide Over barren plains and greying crags, Altering the countenance of what we Perceived originally to
savage was the bond of weakness; we were hiding behind the pain of decline, abdicating the singed shrine of nameless opposition, nowhere the roots were reaching the bottom of truth, I ran like river of life amongst the flames, you
Black from face, A living grace, Behold her!!! She is the ‘Lady In White’. Flying High, Her consort’s cape, Died in War, She is the ‘Lady In White’. Tears escaping, Exuding her eyes, Rolling through her cheeks, She is the
At a liquid time flowing between two visions, Before we imprisoned our breaths inside cages of a calendar, Before bird feathers fell down into inkwells, Before we covered our dead with an elegy and a confusion written on papyrus leaves
I stay connected out of the body, with fireworks, to widen the relativity, to read the language of fear. Death of a tree was mourned by leaves in shadow. The dew lies awake crying. The town was disappearing without a
Fresh smell of wild herbs in the perambulation uphill, Oh! Those clinging burr to my dog’s fur, I remember the sound of the crushing dried leaves, That was heard in a walk through the dark dense woods, My uncle lived
A descent into the abyss of hell, as the petal of a flower takes flight into the sky above, where the angels govern mortal men, keeping a watchful eye on their sheep. summer night solitude, and a prayer to the
The two clouds, that love and have been loved hugged, embraced, and kissed with their lips, tightly closed one another; melting and boiling in their emotional heat, not to talk their feelings and to keep the flow of feel, unsurpassed.
I live in dreams, waiting for time to come, That bud I spied would open up someday, What had been days or scant minutes for some, Became those lonely centuries to me; As sun would tarry long before it dims,
She was a flower, Blossoming in each direction she stepped. A flower tucked in a rose woven sweater. She grew thorns to protect herself from those whom sought to misuse the essence of her beauty. The spread of her fragrant
Book Profile: Oblivion Written over several years, oblivion traces the journey of author’s first love, as it moves from longing to being to loneliness. Each poem is complete in itself, capturing a singular aspect of love, a petal in its
Moments when I need a fulcrum, Like now, when the need for your presence Hangs overwhelming harder than your memory. Now means not just this night Whose sky like is covered with a black orchid petal, Mourning sheet over the
A walk in the garden, Your warm hand in mine. The sound of silence Fills the air. Listen, can you hear it? A butterfly tiptoes across a rose petal, A breeze carries a baby’s cry, This is God talking to
When everything fell apart, The ache grew stronger in my heart. When the earth stopped spinning, The birds stopped chirping, And the flowers stopped blooming, Did you know what they were all saying? The dark, long winter night Took all
Coming to cephalic withdrawl, sharing a deadly delusion, O my world – I will not ask, I will not take back. For my own liberation, I will set you free. I am reversing myself, my battles are still raging. The
It’s now sin sorry Sunday, you don’t look so swell, look in the mirror, look like hell, start thinking, I’m sick of living this way, I’m steadily getting older each and every day. I go out looking for a good
It’s a very subtle change in the words I find clues Even though it feels quite strange through a spyglass I see blue A very peculiar day unraveling pictures that haunt hue I sit on a boat and float away
We were marbles in a concave pan different sizes different trajectories congregating in clumps and caravans until the formation shattered we slid to the edge or the center almost unable to control ourselves but certainly in a hurry motivations and
in the dark of night you maybe looking for a fight the streets are uneasy one word to the wise one must never compromise to listen to twisted lies was a D.J. junkie from back in the day spinning records
If Time is measured on those moments spent, On instances we treasured, how it went, While based on heartbeats that we often hear, When to each other we have come so near, Time seemed so fast, and gone before we
Would you wash the dishes always, like you promised? Would you pamper me silly? Would you embarrass me with an off-tune karaoke dedication? Would you get drunk on a Monday night and proclaim your love for me over SMS, sitting
Call me time and again an incurable romantic. accuse me offensively of revering unrealism. laugh at me heartlessly for I over-idealize you. or just leave me forlorn, if I’m gallingly tractable. but I’ve a warm, not weak, heart. I sincerely
awake and lonely someone said Just look at me somewhere someone, is looking right at you, turned around wonder, who are you? he replied, its me moon awake Sad, alone for centuries, awe Sun leave, cerise. while afar. . .
In a quiet, solitary room, the light softly pours into the multi-colored windows, Filling it with a reminder of the Father’s covenant. The children gather one by one and two by two, Praying for hope to be given in the
This life has snubbed the bloom like a thick brown sac thrown on the sod. An octogenarian tries to slice the hope indulgingly to achieve immortality! Was it a virile snarl? A rose bud wrenched open in a fatherless home.
Hope and dreams Fill Schemes. Slippery as soap Both dreams and hope. My dreams have seen The things that might have been. The sweat it seems Is a part of my dreams. I sit by the streams With moonlight dreams.