Transaction poems bring the best collection of short and long transaction poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great transaction rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these transaction poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on transaction are here for you.
The sea so calm, beautiful and bright, Ah! So bondy lovely sight! The assuage wave lashing on the shores, Fishermen eject on their daily chores, But who knew that such a morn would come When the sea would become an
Shylock and Portia, in a court-scene, One to shed blood, and the other Not to shed blood, on one and the same condition, To be true to the court, in favor of justice, On rules and regulations, against Antonio, A
It was so sweet, so alluring, Mysteriously attractive, seducing. I was mesmerized, so hypnotizing. Your voice truly a heart captivating. The way you sing my favorite song, you are worth listening. The way you gently close your eyes and utter
Non-thinking was a tremendous effort, I scratched the years one by one. Between you and me was a river, it has gone now. Are you beyond the imagination? My eyelids bleed, and there is a painful punctuation. Give me fireflies,
No matter how many nails you put in my coffin, You can’t stop my soul from wandering, I will always stay close to you, To protect you, to care for you, You might tame your thoughts, your feelings, But my
All the bruises are healing.. The wind around is feeling… Deceiving the sky everyday The wind makes its way.. Just like that… I’ll fly high.. Reaching the limits.. By truthful lies. I am garrulous.. Let me speak.. I am fabulous..
Inspiration, a nest of love, robust, tough, and polite, the queen of queens, and its only right, yet I feel wrong, for in this life, I was not able to treat you right, all the diamonds in this earth do
God’s hazel gaze scans a barren land empty stomachs and hungry stands a fertile field an enduring belief precious and exalted and dwelling bequeath breathe in, breathe out live, laugh, love the plea of the needy comes from above swift
Fear drives out our energy Fear make us inefficient Fear brings in turmoil Fear distances us from achievement Fear leads to pessimism Fear is the key for failure Fearless adventures Fearless successful Fearless confident Fearless optimistic Fearless helpful Fearless visionary
This precious leafy lettuce green is much less known than others, but beats them all by very far, for all the field it covers; Its greatest use turns out to be, a must for one good salad, and praises for
The rope around my throat is black That much I know I’m dead because of his heartless attacks The person everyone knows The reflection in the mirror isn’t my own It’s a ghost, a phantom, sitting on his throne His
Leaves blown asunder Like images from a dream. Rushing to journeys end In life’s endless stream. Undercurrents swirling Dark as a cloudy day Smooth as silk above Warmed by the morning ray. There comes a meander, a bend In life’s
Melancholy doesn’t leave it settles in paints the world grey and yes it’s a beautiful monochrome but sometimes even sight becomes lachrymose, then tone is known as just a piece of soul in a different pitch, life seems loud and
Yo the crazy thing that I have been ignoring for the longest Is the pure truth behind It all whether it’s with me Or you The connection is still stabilized The thoughts of what if Continue to ponder While my
He left this place as he entered it, Curled in a foetal position, Eyes shut, cold and weak Hid neath’ the sheets behind the Doorway to his room His organs lay inanimate, resting under his bones And his eyes mocked
I sit by my window every morning, Wanting, willing to write a poem. The pen in my hand yearns to touch the blank paper, Like a lover yearns to touch the beloved. The paper breathes patiently, The warm sun brushes
My inability to get hurt Like dead flesh It doesn’t hurt like a fresh rose When stomped Dead flesh sees future Of being hung After cut for steaks.. It doesn’t complain or Can it complain after being dead? Feathers ceded
If you’re going through one of those days, when you feel like there’s no hope, raise your heart up to Jesus. You are BEAUTIFUL even though you may not think so. You are precious in God’s eyes. And when Satan
Oh my daughter Oh my little angel Don’t know how time flies Seems only like yesterday When you were placed in my waiting arms Hugging you close, seeing the tiny bundle of joy My own flesh my own blood Didn’t
I cheer up when I see thy nature… Thy nature in depth of creativity… I wonder how thou created wings… Wings of those unbalanced creatures… Those angels and demons… Silencing parity of loquacious radars… Those unsung musical rhythms… Rhythms that
They talked regularly on the phone, They just can’t stay at their home They decided to take a step forward, And finally, they met afterward, When their eyes finally met, The time around them slept, When he spoke his first
My name has been written in a piece of letter, waiting for me to come for a warm conversation. I was lost… I was swimming into the imagination of the melancholy. Leaves were embraced in the street. It was autumn.
Something ominous and undefined, illustrative and versatile. Something ambiguous, and something so subtle it hardly exists. Almost is all these things and more. It occupies life around its every corner. It is the grey between the blacks and whites, The
The last corn popped expansively Unnecessarily loud, in a paper bag on a round glass base In a ten year old microwave (a good tool); Jennifer awaits, our first night in, alone together Her parents are at the cinema; her
Caught in state perplexity and direction being sought Quandaries are encrypted with resolves distraught Let core instinct lead on any results don’t expect Oppress visible emotions sane logic try not dissect It may seem on contrary but winds get to
None is Mysterious Than her, Keeps coming Forward To save Her greatest foes Life and honour! Can anyone Tell Who can be A puzzle Bigger than her? It was She Who enticed Adam To pluck The forbidden fruit And enjoy
An evening primrose glides, on my rough hands. I pluck a laugh from the lips, of a parched face. It knows the meaning of death, kissing the pink eyes. Of the lost fidelity and the innocence of the dying sun.
Sparks are dimmed. No use collecting them. I will burn my home to get light. My god was sleeping. Let me use the night goggles. On the ridge walks a silhouette of limping buddha, his neck broken. I did not