Taj Mahal poems bring the best collection of short and long taj mahal poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great taj mahal rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these taj mahal poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on taj mahal are here for you.
At the end of the elated visit Around the mind moving marble mausoleum -Taj Mahal I was unconvinced to leave and got a place to sit As excited to enjoy the environment, withal It was the inside on the right,
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.
I love… Paris in the summer, Bombay in the rains Cotton candy clouds, trees drooping over river bends Rickety trains, Topsy-turvey roller coasters Mountain mists, seeing the ocean meet the sky Rainbows (even without the pot of gold), loud thunder
The Saga Of Romance is a collection of romantic poems, mostly on metaphysical attachment, that may be helpful for younger generation in developing a better and healthy world. The poet’s style of writing comprises of forms like free verse, haiku, senryu, sonnet,
There is a chilbil tree near our grandmother’s house, Full of weaver bird’s nest in monsoon season, God has created everything for a reason. The grassy strands are woven into cosy, Intricate nests for their spouse. The male baya painstakingly
Led down from the tower Head high and hands bound Blindfold declined against the wall Black square pinned to his heart Eyes afire and shining proud He sang… He sang of Caruso, Townes Van Zandt Pavarotti, Bocelli, Mercury, Carreras, he
(Certain meanings of hindi language words: Mantra: Hymn, Prayer Brahmin: A priest Kalyug: In Hindu mythology as a time of evil, decadence, and untruth; here used metaphorically, comparing our time to that of Kalyug. Srishti: The Universe abhaas: Intuitive feeling,
Love is a treasure chest. Nestles in the chest, Holds kindness, and care. Soft as flower, Often weeps, and wilts. Yet, strong as steel. Weathers winds of storm A wonder it becomes! The Taj, an emperor’s dream. His queen’s home!
The heart of a male romantic expresses his feelings born from his own pen rather then purchased in a card He is moved to comfort the one who holds his adoring gaze He will make her feet float softly on
On a cloudy day The grass plants were dancing with the air, laying on the green carpet of grass while travelling within me Pain wave origin from heart Like a deadly storm in a desert The crushing waves of pain
Descending schools of clear droplets wash away yesterday, Thunder bellows and shakes …stirs thoughts adrift in the distance, trickles of fine creeks merge on the bedroom window pane. ..and I reflect back to a man…an essential friend… His last night.
Faint is my expression, out of breath, chastised and drowned in whirl pools of confusion. Neither here nor am I there, in the clouds or the bottom of the ocean, whirl pools of confusion. A year be a day, an
In spite of knowing Life is short , in reality we behave as if our life stretches to eternity Our routine life activities snatches away thought that one day those routine will have to come to end to become a
He falls and snuggles like a lover to the floor; dreams spilling from the bottle in the weathered-hand. Beyond the door, dead-brochs lie buried on the moor. Forebears are but sepulchral-weals upon the land. Dreams spilling from the bottle in
With hustle and bustle, they start with a rule. One named as mighty satire and other the great ridicule. Both expose human foolishness in a mess One has a gorgeous deriding voice while other sounds less. Ridicule have a caustic
Young days start with a nostalgia for a lost freedom Anxiety was the prime suspect. As the age moves on, truth consumes the virtue. I hold this insult in the throes of conscience with tears. The dreams did not last
Walking through the woods at night Not sure where I’m at The darkness I’m looking into Is overpowering A faint light from the sky Surges shyly through the blackness. But not sufficient for me To see where I am going
A weeping willow was telling a trove of memories, for an ancient provenance where the lake sleeps. Why the sheen of water brings out ephemerality of ‘if’. You want to take a holy dip, never to come up again in
Frantic screams leap from her A symphony of worship and bitter memories mingling lingering in her mind Pink skin kissed by the summer sun turns purple under her dress as she sleeps, dreaming of her nightmare, her love Drunk on
It was my ambition to be a poet My conscious mind demanded of me To write more and more But the unconscious mind warned Not to listen to the conscious mind The conflict between them I kept aside To me,
I’m no fun anymore, Not to be with or even around, I bitch-spewing hate is my second Favorite thing to do, Only topped by drinking, Reeking of cigarettes and whiskey, And I like dim places where the outlook is Bleak,
Not everyone is nice and kind But everyone will get hurt sometimes Occasionally, someone will cross the line Some will even become insensitive at times But we all have mountains that we must climb So often life is like being
Eggs went freezing in the sap. Lips of moon were hot. In the flare up, the rebel had cast doubt on cartridge. Missiles were unique but, hands trembled – concept of sky was a lie. Saturn and moon were coming
If these walls could speak they would tell you, The tale of sweet girlhood Of wild hair and bright eyes Heartache and sacred ties Whispered secrets-too many to tell A purple wall and a cow bell Woes and delights in