Petulance poems bring the best collection of short and long petulance poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great petulance rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these petulance poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on petulance are here for you.
My heart is starving, My lips are famished, My arms are cold, My strength is half of it. My mind races, My restless eyes close, My reasons to reason, Grow stale and fold. When you go I always pine, The
All hail to a noble Saviour of low birth who lies in a cradle surrounded by beasts. The chants of joy and gladness from all the earth mark his lowly birth with wonderful feasts. All hail to our Lord whose
Part 1 I’m blind There is a darkness It resides deep in my mind Pitch black A million screams Stolen breath Peace I cannot find Puppet strings A piece of me for everyone Lifeless toy For the taking No repercussions
Last night the harbourer tracked the stag to his resting place, and at sunrise made a close inspection of the perimeter of the wood, to ensure he had not escaped. When the Master heard this, and was satisfied, he ordered
Oh! My mother, sues thy sole cell daughter, An unborn baby, before its loving lover- Prays it to dad, thy, my best creative will- “Let me come, not look at me- thy angry shrill!” Oh! Doc. You dog! You dig
Dear Sylvia, Autumn weeps in perennial loss for you. Shedding its’ veined dry tears, falling on cracked dry soil. The live oak runs around the front yard, screaming her hair is lost… in bald cries. I want it to rain
Well and in my great big book of life there have been many, many chapters full of romance heartbreak and secrets I’d never wanna come out and the death of loved ones that’ll always pain me but Turning the Page
It’s good to leave your comfort zone Once or more in a while And travel to unknown lands To have a feel of life out there. It’s awesome visiting new places Meeting people of varied cultures Hear queer, unfamiliar languages
Between the tremors falls the face in a glass of water. Sometimes false teeth reverberate through the pages of history; devastation sinks in. A faun rubs the landscape. Hatchlings come out when death-music stops. A miracle tends to quieten the
I painted a pitted brick wall whitewashed it with a sable round brush size 0 blotting out my memories in every rough pit a map of hell surely torture and death can’t last forever grinding lime tasting sweat snowblind I
Be it at 9 in the night or 6 in the morning, she is required to quicken her pace, She lives with worry lines that crease her forehead, with fear that clouts her face, She isn’t allowed night outs, parties
We are all wayfaring travelers, Trudging down our separate roads, Hoping, wishing praying, Someone will come and share our load. There are sunburns on our shoulders, And blisters on our feet, We brave the wildest blizzards, And the scorching summer
Pure love Love must be mutual with the total and absolute pureness from two people And not pure selfishness by someone only interested in his/her wellbeing as a couple It has happened before that somebody tries taking me to bed
Remember the times when you were younger You broke your knee and survived a fall You shrugged and smiled and took it in your stride You were so brave and endured it all Laughed it off when others scoffed And
What are we doing? Where are we going from here? What are we? My stormy weathered friend I hear you scream. I see your dreams untold. I love you. My stormy weather friend. When you’re wounded who will heal you?
When age comes between You and your Prospects Choose Prospects Forget your age Which may be on the high side So many elders have done a lot Written a lot Gone to many places When such being the fact Why
Tomorrow will the sun shine bright Its warm finger-like breath streaming through my windows Awakening into song birds nestled ‘neath the rafters Tonight will the moon glow as before Sharing its beauty and radiance A shy princess amidst starry glittering
Little white hair You’re stuck to my scalp And I’m ok with that As long as no one can tell…. Snuggle up quiet Under the black tresses ‘Coz quite frankly You don’t match, like, ANY of my dresses…. You’re crazy
Looking at the starry sky on this new moon night Standing on this endless field of grass Everything else but one seems important, That you and I existed together, ever so entangled, For however brief a while on the timeline
She rocks the stage with elan Speaking not much with her clan Music her soul her heart Hands always moving like a work of art Strumming with fourths eighths and sixteenths Counting 1234 in patterns of beats Never a count
Marching slowly towards western horizon The sun goes to plunge down the hills over there As if exhausted by the day- long travel Traversing the sky from one end to the other . Wonder if it seeks for a little
Dried up, shrivelled, exposed, weather-beaten, This wasting away of the body afflicts with decay The hey-ho day of the day-to-day. Friends desert us quite, And no quenching ever pleases. What was is rubbed away, like stains that dry Wither, languish,
Moments comes along in our life to be whatever it is Common to all or individually wrapped as hers or his From solitude to calamity is a range we are often dealt Consuming all and often sticks in memory of
This fathomless free fall of hollowness This unceasing relentless devouring of happiness May it cut so meaningfully deep…. as deep as my heart once sang. For the wounds reflect an unyielding hope, untouchable memories, cherished moments. Ascent and descent ..
Life….This is not a fairy tale that we all dream of, fantasize or speculate it to be. Nobody promises us that, not even God. Life is an amalgamation, of those really fantastic, fanciful, sometimes phenomenal, remarkably awesome days and of
The autumn breeze blows through the trees whispering secrets known to few from all of his travels in summer under skies of azure blue He tells of flowers smiling when watered by the rain and of butterflies kissing them again
I like to behold the budding of bushes and branches as they prepare to bring to us their beautiful roses, shady limbs, and leaves. I like to hear the sounds of creeks, dams, ditches, lakes, ponds, and watersheds shouting in
Rain brings life and enthusiasm Raises people’s joy and grace, Makes the beloved to think And feel her lover’s presence. Rain drops sprinkles the earth Touches the heart of her, Makes the beloved to see And touch the face of
We are all tightly wrapped. It began at birth. We are born with tendency, but the wrapping begins at birth. Like an Egyptian mummy the world begins to wrap. As the years go by the cocoon thickens. Depending on where
Who are forgivers? Forgiveness belongs to those with a big heart, people of a strong heart, and powerful in mind; ambassador of peace and jocund, those with heart of kindness and people with milk of benediction. Can you forgive? Yes!