Preserverance poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of preserverance poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on preserverance are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Beyond life… Beyond love… I could have staked shortcuts… But preserverance stood me upright… With hope of life… Hope of love… That kept it all alive… Alive in wonders… Of painful trauma… Paralysed in thoughts… Paralysed in acts… But still
Ashburn paths where purple fighters slay The hemispheres match like hands folded All analogies bring you to me We run like wild nightmares We kiss like dark art on a lost street Now we must look at one another We
You curled, cruised, kicked and got her crazy She enjoyed a cocktail of emotions and images all so fuzzy You slumbered after all wailing and weep She comforted you all night trading her sleep You talked miles and miles She
Midnight in the Rose Garden, in the shadow of the moon’s Shadow well, I retrace the paths we used to walk back to That moon-flower covered two storey gazebo…I climb the Stairs again to the top that overlooks the deep
Upon her bedroom wall she wades Serene in Homers blue waters Past the dormant white hulls at dry dock, She smiles Before autumn’s sienna strokes of the harbor flats She feels the tides’ hands bathe her. From beneath her comforter
You said it was a sin to trade for the hunger. I was looking into your eyes, something was amiss, tears had become stones. How long your breast was carrying this despair? You said it was a crime to hold
Crisp eucalyptus leaves Pale green, redolent with a spicy aroma Some just shards of the palest beige A fragrant carpet underfoot With every step and every breath. Perched on the branch Of the lichee tree Rough barked Black ants tickling
Never felt this way before, You have taken hold of me somehow…! Its not everyday one feels like this, I know I’m in love and I need you now…!! Nothing will change, Because its already done…! And it will be
Sun glistening off the tropical bay. White cotton balls float by reflecting Suns rays. Surf down below melodically soothing the way. Vistas of ocean from the left to the right, spotted with green jewels enhancing the sight Sea birds floating
Love hugs the heart, Like morning mist, That cloaks in magic, With a tender moment, To kiss the soul awake. The nourishing dew, Of the mysterious mist, Feeds the soul, With a love so tender, In landscape of the eyes.
I left that red rose in her dressing desk But found in the evening as untouched but dried Tho’ I reminded not to forget among her other task Unable to control emotions, my soul too cried I just asked her
Disguise In our age of awakening Believing in ghosts or devils has become foreign To the consciousness Astonished at the progress of technology Empty minds even can not become devil’s workshop Refused to become But sensitivity realizes that Devil has
It’s an orchestra of various instruments, Mixing and remixing with eastern and western, Indian and Arabian, Persian and Spanish A real symphony, of matching with matchless, The union of hard and soft, with Strings and Skins. Music of rain, the
Picnic in a secluded meadow Strawberries and Champagne On our lips as them sweet Kisses follow we can’t help But to give into our passion On a blanket as soft as Summer clouds… What a perfect day for kindred Hearts
I thought you would walk behind, but you went ahead. I felt your place is at home, but you went to rule the world. I believed knowledge is my domain, but you invaded that terrain. I was conditioned to believe
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,
I watch the seagulls fly shouting your name, Should in your isle, you walk along the brine, Would you fancy to play this childish game, To hear bird cries to sound like name of mine? The moon reminds me of
Thou art light of heart- Radiance of soul That which has become perpetual in me Is the pleasure of thy embrace- All noble men taught to world thy reverence- We possess the most precious- Is nothing but thy joy- The
Dear Sweetness, The very day I saw your fair, pretty face I noticed a spark between us. Though, it took a little bit longer for us to completely know each other… It’s a silly thing to ignore you. It’s the
Outrageous outbursts of Victorian values imposed on the young cub. Irreverent ranting relates a sepia shaded childhood that didn’t exist. “The kids of today don’t know how it was. They don’t want to know!” He leans forward in his chair
Her father got killed by hands of police Now they’re screaming little one have peace Don’t show emotion, forgive, don’t speak Trying to convince her that there’s strength in being weak Unsympathetic to her suffering they don’t care She just
Blue diamond rains filigree of golden light so many shades of green. Sun beams on a single leaf. This small star pulsating from my wet apple tree. Bright new leaf fits hand perfectly—the future lies in your palm. After the
High in the Cascade Mountain Range, camped in a wilderness cathedral. Overlooking a vast expanse of wilderness, only meters back from the edge of a sheer precipice. Admiring the shear beauty of a brilliant double rainbow, bridging this vast void.
Dear muse, I penned this verse with feather quill, To gently praise your beauty of renown, My words to float aloft your gaze until, They softly kiss your eyes like thistledown. One single thought of you is all I need,
My love, a kiss, now marks upon your neck, As love became territorial these days, Reminds me more than would the usual peck, True love, to strange lands never ever strays; Thereby I own your every love’s caress, Your thoughts,
At the bookstore I found a guide Inside was a simple instruction. A funny looking diagram. I tried everything imaginable but still couldn’t figure it out. Flipping page after page, Telling you what I’ve found. The way the instruction was
Was it a summer storm of sexuality? Only the chaste statue stood in threads, and then went down the cuticle with nipple rings. The demand of namelessness was rising in the dim shadows of brisk tones. To step down from
I hid my face securely between the soothing palms of Mother Earth, And passed by, the world without caring, taunting and laughing, Some do stop just to ask, “Hi joker, feeling pity for your maker?”, But I stay as dead
I woke up clutching the dreams in deluge of tears. Night had a brackish taste, the other side of moon was dark. One by one the stars were dying ideas were no longer candles in gale. The final thought of
Oh, mosquitoes, children of lust, you hover all over the world, to suck blood for own cause and multiply. Helpless society and frustrated victims are your brooding ground. You’ve outnumbered leeches and vampires only through a strategy of invading indoors.
Sinners hurt. While moonlight cracks open like a walnut, spreads soft light across open sky, they dart to alleyways, bury themselves behind their own trails shaking fists at the sky; hiding their nasty nonsense in shame, city buildings rattle their
I’ve become aware I can time-travel, particle-physics has long posited this, Stephen Hawking admits it’s possible, even likely. It starts out this way, drowsing on my front room sofa TV tuned down, & in just a moment an hour and