Poppies poems bring the best collection of short and long poppies poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great poppies rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these poppies poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on poppies are here for you.
As poppies drip blood red petals Among the fields where souls do roam A silenced voice away from home Buried deep with twisted metals Khaki men are dead and rotting As poppies drip blood red petals Overgrown with rats and
Let the poppies be a sole reminder of those who went before us. ‘Lest we forget.’ On this special Remembrance Day, a day to celebrate those battlefield fights. In Remembrance of a soldier that give all from his heart, fighting
Do you deem it courage? Or is it a kind of outrage Sparking off the blood-hued flares Igniting all particles of wrath present in the air Curses etched on the strips of little paper Nailed into the cloth flesh of
Staples were traveling on the epiderm, thanking the wounds. The dust, the eternal ugliness were growling. Riveting drama: a royal swanking for a macabre heist. A bizarre charisma overtakes the cozy lips. I was green, and I was a cloud
A leached amputee living with stumps of flawless dying. Round and round, blindfolded moving in circle, drawn by rhyming bells. Perhaps you need to suffer with the drunken race of snipers. I am in the silent valley of barefoot secrets
Surge of rage in domes of violence skins the history, becomes a frozen embryo of genetic markers, shimmers in society, race and native shirts. Enters into the creation of a saga accomplished by advancing poppies; there was no connection to
This road will not take you to a theme. In wind, a pebble was making different strokes. Hanging stones were hiding the music of poppies. To fill in my glass of silver I place the stitches in images of naked
I was but a soldier in a trench in Northern France It sat upon a meadow where the lovely poppies danced. The skies above were cloudless clear a perfect colour blue And cornflowers on the meadow danced beside the poppies
nothing is left to say, the wandering cloud was bleeding for white moon, the elements, the purity, the ligaments are fake, joints are festering with fever on burntout resins; the name floats in millions of veins, tell me the fault
The wind rattled tiles on the roof. Turned the windmill out at sea. Pushed me back and forwards until I landed on my knees. Paper rubbish floated in the air, my hat lifted off my head, and hair whipped my
Last night while the breeze touched my face and moonlight was bright, Last night when I accidently woke up to the soft light on my face, I suddenly remembered that as a little girl I always wanted to stare at
The brightest light shines deep but pure black darkness is infinite I surrender to its awe of depth without how would we know light’s speech Darkness is somewhere kept behind a door until intelligence opens in expression to be unique
Fire in the forests Or forests on fire Absolute catastrophe For the flora and fauna Living in there ! It brings untold sufferings To the myriad life forms Ranging from soft green grass To thick bush lines and tough tree
I wrote this poetry As I found your beauty Where words that still unsaid Feelings that still undead. I wrote this poetry Because of you And not because of fortune and fame I wrote this poetry Trying not to impress
Once I dare… Once I dare to write my story, Memories crowded falling me weak… And words played hide and seek. Once I dare to lost in Love, brain went on compulsory leave… Mercifully, I survived of dying dive. Once
He resumed walking with the sun propelled in river of fire of blunt red and striking yellow to resonate with the pain of her, who sleeps on the thighs of a temple tree. The vibrations still follow the echo of
Tomorrow is a better day Tomorrow is a greater day, Tomorrow never dies It lives back with smiles!!! As I unfathom into the misery of others, misery of the world As I unransom with truth the silence of the broken,
heartbeat time flows swiftly by- distilling within that certain pain inherent in understanding a depth of grief is felt upon a fellow voyager’s departure- somehow balanced by its magnetic partner- joy sorrow slips in and out as we move through-
Whilst bequeathed are the grasping wealthy with pilfered, false grandeur, plundered and encumbered are droves of working poor….. As the rancid wind of wrongness rages and fiercely blusters in your faces, arise, my brethren, arise, effect its due demise, for
Undating the memories in final push to cauldron, I said: let the words burn to ashes, in terminal journey, of eternal flight. You turn a blind eye to sun’s venom. Moon, the blue baby in a casket rubbing the white
Well it is written…God so loved the world He gave his only begotten Son and whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life, so don’t worry about tomorrow, tomorrow will take care of itself, just do the
Justice – Injustice, white and black, One is a blessing, the other is fake. Injustice is a deadly snake, Justice is like a beautiful lake. Justice nourishes the roots of society, Injustice lives in an immediate priority. Justice is the
People are more precious than things you own. Should not be picked up ‘n put down like a telephone. They can be emotionally fragile, so handle with care, don’t cast them off, ignore As a lost cause or beyond repair.
It’s one of those mornings that welcomes whiskey and soda with open arms. The Sun and I, more or less, feel the same way about getting out and conquering the world. ‘Well, it’s not our turn today’, we tell ourselves.
He faded away into the crowds like a stranger you only feel Never know. She sat scarred Perhaps for life. What he took with him was irreplaceable. What she was left with was Mere wrinkles, Weak knees And no soul.
A man stood by the roadside his shame he endeavored to hide for being homeless injured his pride. He held a cardboard sign in his hand. It said he’d do whatever the task would demand. He would work for food
A most glorified sound emerging from the center of a winter-land amphitheater. The singing of dark crowned Juncos, radiating through the shivering dry leaves of a lonesome birch tree. clothed in the tranquility of newly fallen snow. The singing birch
A labyrinth of red washed walls, my heart’s anguish to soar above the clouds. As I trace my scars I think of rose petals. Is my body still asking for restitution? Have I not yet paid the price? My pain
Rain, rain, rain! Please don’t come again and again. I know you are beautiful And for all the creatures you are wonderful. You are important for farmers’ needs’ You are favorable to grow their seeds. with your each and every
Our guardian angel so strong and kind patiently answering questions from each young mind your turqoise eyes shimmered like the sea silver hair brushed so finely your love shone for all so clear and bright like a beacon rivalling the