Learn more about other poetry terms
When you visit Rome, it is as if history beckons,All other thoughts are secondary to reckon,Stunning architecture and ruins does the mind conjure,While being tempted to look at the bigger picture
The hike to the waterfall multiplied my fear of falling by my fear of passing out from exhaustion. The hills climbed like
A lovely December morning like this,connotes nothing else in our world but bliss.A time to mine our richest depths of loveon fifth avenue's apartments above.Every split second is worth a lifetime
I entered the cold and windy sea To see what I could see There was something I had in mind A treasure I couldn’t find I was searching for a crab To fit the habitat that I had
Crabs crawl across the rocks, as you walk along the docks. Warm sand between your toes, as a cool breeze blows. Boats sail on by, as you look up at the blue sky. Sweat drips down your back,
Ocracoke has secrets. For those who have time, she may unveil herself slowly while her tide plays with the moon and her sun rises with an avian chorus.
Everything is calm and bright, But yet it causes me a fright. Waves crashing against the shore, Who knows what roams the ocean floor?
On islands where sea-salt breezes blow, And purple tropic flowers grow, And trees are laden with coconuts, On islands where sunrays seldom touch. Volcanoes erupt and spout with glee,
The crisp cold wakes me by nipping my nose. The sleepiness leaves me from my head to my toes. I look at the clock and groan so loud. It’s 7 o’clock it’s time to get up now. But instead of readying myself just yet,
When stressful work strangles my joy, And all chance of happiness thus destroyed, I think to myself, how nice it may, Be to pack up and leave for a getaway,
From sandblast windows out I spy a flock of gulls in flight and I yearn to coast the ocean, on a charter, strong and light. Sail o'er the deepest trenches With a map of stars at night.
i am not a hotel. don’t pack your bags only to stay a week or twodon’t come to me only when you need somewhere to get away from everythingi am not a hotel.i am a home.let me be your home.
its the grass burrs stickig to your sock its the way the water looks wen you skip a rock. its the water glistening when the sun hits just right. its how it looks even prettier reflecting th moon night.
8/19/12, age 18 Some are afraid of flying, but I love it. It lets me live a whole different life, One where the outside world shows me the most perfect sea I’ve ever seen
Wrinkled but soft Aged and veiny Her hands have raised us Tonight they stir spaghetti, Hang wet clothes, Wash the dishes. And how beautiful they are. It’s said to be heaven
Dignified mountains stand firmlyagainst the night sky. The moonpeers silently from behind and blowskisses of sparkling silver throughthe heavens
KauaiMorning light creeps in my eyes, wild roosters crow,
This is the name you were born with,
Sweet southern sun spilled through the cabin door And made the woodwork golden as it spread. I set my feet down gently on the floor And teetered off the edge of our shared bed.
inside a passenger seat breathing in a static driveleaving rolling hills to the ocean's waveslet's slip into the sands.hide inside our skinand dive deep.
When going on a trip, Here are the places you should visit. The lakes of Michigan wide and cool, Then head to Minnesota and swim in a large pool. Next go to Chicago and get a deep dish pizza,
Tiny tots laugh and splash as the waves break on sunscreened stomachs. Reckless teenagers try new tricks on their freshly waxed skim boards. Old men in Speedo's walk up and down the shoreline. This, is my Florida.
We gather. We wait. We silently anticipate. The sun dips down, The waves dance up. The crashing touch Of Mother Earth And the King of the Sea Produce a sight of beauty.