Retirement poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of retirement poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on retirement are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
You never touch the ground neither go round and round hung up for a very different use your job now to make them amuse after retirement a change of fate now into swinging than erstwhile rotate sure I’m for this
I thought Life is a fantasy having a lot of positivity I spent childhood happily and merrily I cherished Teenage which was full of excitement and entertainment I entered adulthood with dreams and challenges I experienced Middle age as most
It seems like he is punished Everyday when he returns from work His face drained, reflecting the fatigue of the whole day. He hardly has time to smile But I know he wants to smile When he leaves in the
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
Nearly four years ago, we sold our home where we had lived for nearly fifteens years. That was long enough to grow a nice garden of all kinds of flowers, including roses. Unfortunately, I was saddened that we could not
In Retirement days, plant words on a page. Record in a booklet, give a little age. Let ripen, hide it away a few days. Later, re-evaluate, review, and renew. It is choice and lasting, or is it to re-do? Will
That Life is a gift hardly we realise It Life is undoubtedly a Beauty that we know but we see it as murky We rush to get appointment but end up with disappointment Outstanding was I in studies Missed being
I remember telling my mother (this was a lifetime ago) “It asked me to let it go: it had something important to do.” There was that look on her face, the deep frown of accountancy, another couple of dollars doled
Charmed by a witch in the days of the Knight Templars Reflections in the dark, Reflections of the heart and as the moon goes across the mountains here I remember firelight and snowfall and an ivy covered castle wall where
Rise, oh weary, war-spawned sheep Leave your demons caged in sleep. Travel up above this place Of caste and creed, of greed and waste. Shear the spirit from the host Invoke the remnants of the scourge Awaken sentience in the
Between rainy days Brought by the northern wind And days trembling Under the caress of the southern, I go for a walk with my silence. I was weaning to speak- The words have lost their meaning Since there is no
a facsimile of torture candlelit in moony dark i want to unread the anointed death on this tip of an arrow, here it comes the hissed phrase wrenching the gut – for conceptual withdrawl, dawn of dark secrets without footprints
Knock out their hearts,feel the water falls Let’s dare play with the juicy blood balls Scattering of priceless charm in the beats Shattering of heart walls and glassy sheets Sisters are the LOVE For in no comparison with poetry of
I met her few days ago In a beautiful garden May be a new friend though face was unknowable, but as if we were known to each other from time immemorial Innocent face, solemn lines on the forehead, eyes looked like
Spring has come to embrace your cheeks Lovely breeze caresses your peaks Love itself comes and seeks Through out the days through out the weeks Permission to touch, submission to take The fragrance of your body to a lake For
She had changed colours to please her eyes her soft sight covers the earth , her fond beauty dumbs the earth , commenting ‘silence ‘. She was green back in her old days , had changed, green to golden .
My first book was a store of love words were made of sound and touch characters smiled and sung lullabies I learnt to talk and run for the sun. There was a flood of colors, letters, sentence rules and social
Her last cigarette clouded the window Of the only fluorescent-lit room In the dusty motel Off exit 168. Yes sir, no sir As she climbed into bed Putting out her cigarette On four-use one-wash sheets. He clung to her Until
It’s been a long time, I haven’t heard from you, And I’m just not fine, Because its midnight, & I’m still waiting for you…! I’ve never met you, Yet I had the fall, I said everything, But not the words,
She came to visit me from America, Everybody shouted, she is my replica. She is very pretty, white and pink, She wore her jacket, made of mink. My little lady always looked very busy, Serving tea with her beautiful tea-cosy.
Hardly does anything trespass through the intricate niches of delirium, A shout practically hovers around in oblivion and a morning yell is supposed to be suppressed in the enthusiastic turbulence of dark whirl Darker emotions have to be admitted and
A unique, irreverent intruder: in my dying dreams, of a domain beyond the gifts. The corridor was full of specters in boiling air. The DNA will not cover the naked strands of desires. Put out to sea, my boat in
She knows how I feel, She know that its real..! But fate knows it better, Of what it has to cater..!! Chaos reigns in this love, Circumstances written from above..! We hope to change it, But dare not disrupt it..!!
Life is like the seasons, full of brightness and darkness. if today its the winter of dismay, tomorrow there’ll be the spring of hope in some way. Life is like a journey, with destinations and paths many. If today its
In the cavernous mind a thought becomes redundant. You go straight for a snakeroot. A flat cluster of white flowers spurs a stigma at the white moon for floating rumors. This was my native pain of brilliant tapestry. The threads
While out hiking high in the Cascade Mountain Range, with jagged mountain peaks acting as my back drop, I watch as I behold in the glory of Creation a rainbow being created after a gentle rain shower. An eagle appears
Something is hurting inside me Ripping my soul in two Its never right. Never wrong Its the way of things. Why? Why does this have to happen? I feel something. Breaking apart. Falling apart. It’s hurtful. Its not going away.
My afflicting Evil precedes our God himself; at dawn was born in turbulent oceans, sunken ravines that few had trod, ripe with fruits of ever-present torment. People rejoiced at my each rising word, trees uproot with the gesture of my
I don’t turn my tears away because it never comes without reason. It follows my footsteps and digging my pains, those are rains streaming from eyes as rain falling from the sky on earth. I am afraid of darkness No
You get on the freeway and floor it all those maplines and dots coming briefly to life like water drops in a hot frying pan you stop when you get hungry you fight through the tired trying to save money