Learn more about other poetry terms
La luna llena cae del cielo Con una luz intensa de relampago Pero sin sonido alguno Libre de las cadenas de la gravedad Cae Y desaparece en la oscuridad La osuridad completa
Earth is the prettiest rock But I take it for granted I forget the sky I forget the mountains I’m absorbed by time and screens
Gentle breezes calling out to me like Sirens, Intimidating storms shouting its melody at me, too, The cyclone of words are flying, Coming together where the hurricane's eye is due.
Nature is my home, it inspires me to be who I am the outdoors is a stress reliever, a safe place. No drama. No gossip. Just peace Nature is a place where you are persuaded by your own thought
The star shine is bright, blinding sparkling blue and red and orange and yellow so she has to squint. The contrast of light against the total black of the night sky is nearly unbearable.
Teetering on the edge, knuckles white Mind racing, why am I here? spiraling What can I hold? Or what can hold me? How can it all somehow turn out right?
Splish Water laps over my hiking boots As I ford my way upstream a Wild highland river The wind gusts with an exciting promise Of grandeur just uphill. Breath heavy Heart light
I love to watch you wind, as you sway the trees and blow across the fields in a gentle breeze, but I wonder where you go. You disappear sometimes in a mischievous sort of way
They say to make it in this world you need to be bold.
Ode To the Wind I love to watch you wind, as you sway the trees and blow across the fields in a gentle breeze, but I wonder where you go. You disappear sometimes
Floating in the silver breeze. A sherbet sky glistened upon her wings A fairy lass so small and sweet floats without a cease Bending grass and trees Awakening flowers from the freeze
Waves crash gently upon the shore as the tide roles in-n-out. A semi powerful breeze cools the air Standing 4,081ft up, I open my eyes to a 360° view of the Green Mountains. Wind rustling the leaves of the trees.
Goodbye and thank you to the Ocean Thank you for the memories The nights of walking along the beach The waves as they crashed at our feet Thanks for the breeze blowing wind through our hair
Do you hear the storm coming? feel the thunder shaking the ground? can you see the lightning in the distance? feel the wind weaving through your clothes? can you hear the rain getting closer and louder and heavier?
25 April 2019 4:15 Pm Oh traveling wind where have you come from Where will you be when the day is done What have you seen, what stories would you tell If only you could stop and sit for a spell
Jeweled horizon The spring flowers fall dormant Wind begins its dance
Make it easy.
The Eagles, Hang Still, In the Wind, On their Wings.
The clock ticks down the day, How much longer I have to wait, For the revolving door to make its final spin. Around it goes in a shadowy blur, Its magnificent speed is hard to ignore.
Happy changes for ours to foray, that theirs were oceanand of black God, so could you know Ocean god was thisogod, or primal bei is hei. Thes lors, ast ou, ocean wasblack and fear, could know you in? No. But this deep could
Sitting along the waters edge the wind flows gently across the water stirring the current slightly. Rocks and earth bellow the water, as the water glides downstream it eases the senses to a place of calm.
the winds blow through the leaves of the trees as words drift from ears to ears of those who want to hear Creator speaks in many voices through many people selectively we chose
Words like water, wittling mountains into mines, carving cathedrals into canyons. Epitaph like earth, steadfast in resolve, yet constantly changing. Fierce like fire,
i blind those that blaspheme my omnipresent and invisible nature. to my shoving nudges you deny and you tear and shield your eyes from
Sends shivers down your spine Gives you the chills Freezes you to the bone Raises your hairs Yet it’s oh so kind It comforts us
Wind, to me sing Your lullaby, Your comforting tone of peace. I am not, Could not be, alone Amongst the presence of the breeze. Tell me secrets, Fear not, song,
The trees they sway. The wind convey, Their branches all a ’swinging. The breeze can whisper, Make you shiver, On feathery wisps a ’winging. The wind grows louder,
Winding Strands of silken air, Rushing 'round my clothes and hair, Round and round the Earth they fly, Climbing high without a care.
The angry skies on a sleepless night, Rolling thunder, flashes of light, A tireless battle midst roiling clouds. A quick parry, a sudden thrust, Their booming voices,
Mother, she is light. She bounces off tin-foil lakes, soothing tides. She warms the back of my eyes every dawn. She is a sunspot amongst freckles and stars. She lets me look on beauty.
The clouds start moving in, obscuring the midday sky. They layer upon one another, blocking out all available sunshine. The wind picks up, rushing through the trees.
Oh how the winds have changed all wind blows with the curviture of the earth but not all whip and burst in the same directions Some winds dash throgh the trees and encourage leaves to dance
The way that the sun sets and the sky looks as if it’s on fire, Sitting on the edge looking down endless rows of trees and wanting to be even higher,
A melody played on the wind Tangles itself amongst the smoke Air crisp with cedar pine Still cold while the sun has broke A gentle lull of a new day Rousing all from slumbers full
Hushed are the mornings, not one chore yet to do. The wind wafts over from my open window, cool and light. The solid hardwood on my bare feet,
The axis of the world spins, and with that goes the heat of the summer. My time of happiness has finally come. Trees begin to shed their coats, and with that animals grow new ones.
A spiral of roots calms a tortured soul— one whose mind is clouded with worry
Swimming through air Floating then plunging Through depths Gliding over Whispy vessels afloat On nothingness Effortless
I want the shoreline, the foamy white waves colliding into rock like soldiers sparring in battle; the horizon brushed with soft strokes of lavender, rose pink and azure; the low-toned
Silhouetted trees Line dusked beach skies, As subtle breeze Blows, All is calm, Earth sighs.
Relief only comes during the late hours of sunset, When the cool wind finally arrives Just to curl around your legs, Sighing with content, just feeling this moment of peace
One still night, alone was I, As mind and soul raced wind and time. To space, they spread and quickly fell, Obeying laws against their will. I thought of all the days gone past,
On an island In outer space Across the world I couldn’t stay There Here Anywhere
I weave, thrive and twist in the tunnel of wind Thrashing me forward, he winds me up as a toy Unbounded, he twists me still and steals my jacket In this tunnel of wind I stand, sit and wretch
Shivers, up and down your back Such a gaze makes your mind go slack The bitter cold of catching that one's eye Worse than an outright lie It's just the wind It's not like you have sinned
I envy the wind,Oh I envy the wind. I envy the soft breeze of the wind,Its tender hold caresses your skin,While I cannot, I am not the wind,I envy the wind.
Warm Fire, Dark atmosphere, Cold Wind Bright Flames. Amber Logs, Cold Wind Flickering Blaze, Inviting Company, Cold Wind Warm Smiles. Dark Faces, Cold Wind
Years has is it become Seeing eye to eye But very words Gave thrills and shrills To both, separated By approx. of 618.6 km And taking a 8 hour long travel Reaching by 7 in the morn
I adore the wind; It’s comfort over rules every And any single thought I have had. Shall the gust turn strong Or the movements go astray It is here to accompany me Even if I’m not here stay.
I catch you summer breeze and suddenly time stops, A moment of appreciation sets in. It seems you wait until I have forgotten your cool touch. I can't help but feel a smile begin.
Oh the weather outsi
We all say Emily Dickinson in our sleep And watch Van Gogh as we eat,
Upon a mid-summer afternoon The curtains find release Dancing with the wind Fluttering with the breeze Silent
The wind blows with no purpose. It feels nice, and makes the day more bearable. Although it seems to blow hard, Although it moves my shirt & paper. it does not care. It blows because it should.
I listen to the wind under the trees
Rippling through my tresses Lifting both my soul and my hemline The wind soars through me On the swings Flying up to the clouds Drifting back down again and again The wind is here for me
I am awoken, not by sounds. The sun egging me on with its rays to arise. Birds conversing, cheerful small talk. Inviting me to join the world outside. The breeze, a mornings greeting.
The rain pounds down Shifting Dancing through the air Without a care in the world And meeting the ground In the harmonious union Known as mud The wind howls Jealous of the rain
Oh, the saccharine exhale of the skies Breaking through the denseness of stagnant air Lifting up spirits and drowning out destitute cries Claiming the heavens as her lair Reigns the frivolous delight known as wind
At my door It comes in without permission It rushes through the open cracks Directs itself without a vision In my kitchen It sneaks in through my broken window
Wind Sissel South
The perfect lover is the wind. A warm breeze to brush away the cold. A cool breeze to calm the raging heart. A strong wind to push you back when you’ve gone too far
A creeping wind knows no bounds
My eyes keep burning from what seems like one hundred hours of staring into a dry wind. That wind seems determined to send my retinas into a drought. It hurts to close them.
I stand alone
whispering whispering throught the trees telling secrets telling lies and tall tales too through the tall grass and where the urban street meets the meadow where the wild becomes tame
The Wind leads through the woods the forest is silent, over the hills comes the glorious sun rise Music spreads through the air the heart is consumed with love
What do I see?
Make the trees sway
The wind kisses me on the cheek and sings of wondrous things,
Could I really be heard? I am seventeen year old young lady, Sierra I’ve been to ten different schools, Nisqually to Ridge, on to college and back here.
I am a wind. I am the air rushing through the leaves, Happy and energetic, Flying and free. Sometimes my speed picks up. I get angry. I run from my problems. I know I can be too much sometimes.
I have always been one to hide from the world. Never been a popular girl, I would hide myself from the world in my room. Behind the door I would lay in bed with the lights off, turn on a tune, and slowly let my thoughts carry me away.
The winds whispered through the field as they carressed the growing grains.
Through beams of wood, light reaches for silver souls afloat. A single breeze, a reverberation from the other layer of time, Air dancing to the melody of ghosts across skin, Just brushing the nerves, barely greeting,
When I speak of love I aim my voiceto my parents who brought me hereand taught me how to deal with the cruelties of the world,my freshman year english teacher who cared even after I left
The wind sings a beautiful melody, that calls for the rain to fall.
Waiting for a gentle push In a direction I do not know Surrounding everything But nothing
There is a strange peace in loneliness,
Many nights I lie awake thinking of what to be until the thunder of the dream carries me to sleep howl Howl the wind blows fierce with its chill, me it pierced gentle gentle night has gone
Like the hands on a clock …move Like the wind in September …blows My mind is systematic, yet it can flow freely like a fluid dream Like a bowl of dust seeping into crisp air
I’m wrapped up tight within my sheets Behind my curtains blows a gust Up and down the lonely streets Calm my heart, this I must As the shadows find me still In gentle dreams can I trust?
Change is the wind. Bringing with it new things Both tangible and intangible Taking old things Constantly happening Giving Destroying Always happening Change is the wind.
A breeze quietly stirs it seems to have no direction gnetly tossing my hair sending a slight chill down my spine my skin prickles up wind rushes past me then back to me again
i used to write about the wind and how it carries the lovely broken thoughts of humanity
***For those who have suffered through Natural Disasters*** Ocean of blue, Blood of red. Laying within Mother Earth’s bosom On grassy beds. Music of birds
The Ways of Wind An Original Poem By Catelin Haight Wind is a wistful thing Leaves and flowers ride its wings Cradling in its arms a bird Its gentle whispher barely heard
The Santa Ana winds roll in every year. They go about making things dusty and dry. They are strong and forceful but there's no need to fear. They persuade the dust of the Earth to make you cry.
I am a child of the air I am not one to cower in the face of change
They scorned the sunlight is what I was told. They asked for shadow Over gold. But the sun could not help But To shine. So they would run, and they would lock themselves inside.
The briny breathes of the Humber welcomed my parents to the its shores, and left their cheeks flushed along with their hair unkempt.
The day is bright but there is no lightYou wonder how this could beIf you were meYou could surely seeThe beauty infront of me
Tonight I don't want to be seem by the moon. I prefer to wait until tomorrow and talk to the sun. Tonight I just want to by myself and count how often I have dressed up in gold to the rays of the sun and put on wine as perfume.
My family had moved to Kissimmee To purchase a comfortable house. I showed up to school sev'ral weeks before Yule As a breeze wafted in from the South. “Good morning,” the teacher exhorted,
She gazed through the hazeof smoke thatperpetuallyescaped from her lips,And sipped her glass of wine,one of the last companionsshe could afford.And I sat here in my car,unable to tear my eyes
Bare Handed Catch Water Splashing in my face, Bouncing on the waves, Going light speed behind a motor boat Soaring like the eagle Swish, Swish, splash, going side to side
He calls them all Into The Throne Room The Breezes, the Winds, the Whirlwinds Ready they come He tells them His plans Sends them off The Freezing Breeze
The wind moves at a slow paceCreating a whispering voice Talking to shadows as they creep Through the eerie and morose night.
Tales like foxtails pepper my mind And I find that naked the wind hurts But clothed not so much.
The wandering wind, a playful dog,/ Floats into the city, desperate for love./ Nudging people playfully, puffing, blowing lovingly,/ Would be satisfied with the slightest smile,/ But not even that is given./ They zip up their jackets and go on the
Your currents carry all different colors that nobody else can see but meThey blow the strongest on my worst daysWhen you're near me, I can feel youWhen you're nowhere in sight, I can still hear you speak
Perhaps the wind blows for a certain reason Maybe the gusts have a destination in mind A specific face to refresh A particular arm to brush
(1) Wings that soar, (2) Wings colored with beauty, (3) Wings so delicate, so fragile. (4) Wind blows setting the wings off course, (5) The wings try to fight the wind, (6) But the gentle wings lose the bat
I’ve felt the wind as a solid wave, Taking the oxygen she freely gave. I’ve felt the wind soft as a caress, Flipping and whipping my hair into a mess. I’ve felt the wind, setting the chimes all a-jingling
What if wind Isn’t wind? It’s actually our ancestors Whispering in Like a breeze Isn’t a breeze It’s their calming voice Guiding
The wind whips within The windows, whining To be free, falling, frozen In time forever, But it bows out because Its blood is too thin Or maybe much too thick For this warm morning
When the wind blows it takes with it what it wills leaves dirt it kicks up scents that bring back good times the smell of autumn leaves throwing you into a world of reminiscence
A cold winter night Oh such a beautiful sight The gentle breeze Yet you never freeze Coldness against the cheek Wet grass beneath the feet Chills down the spine In a straight line
Fingers reaching light Bare trees left till Spring Wake up from slumber Leave us gray morning Arise to warmth and shadows Welcome again Spring
Thunder claps its own song, Rain drops its own tune, Wind whistles its own melody and all that comes from me is this poem
The sun it shines, regardless, The grass it grows, oblivious, The water it sits, fathomless. The moon it reflects, lovingly, The tree it stands, determinedly, The sand it moves, impulsively.
(poems go here) I am the color green,I am the grass,I am the leaves in the trees, I am the wind that blow's through the trees as i sing passing bye every tree,
Fire to ashes and ashes reborn a once strong flame flickers and flails as the wind grows stable the embers grow frail then all at once it begins to prevail
I remember the gently blowing wind in my youth that shook the trees. I remember the soft, gentle flower petals fall from the trees and land in my palm. The passing street cars zooming right on by.
The change it blows, across the sky. The wind it grows, as seasons die. Heralding might, with each new dawn. Winning the fight, through guise of calm.
When you find yourself sitting in the sun, a light, unbothering wind upon your thoughts, escaping into the air through your contended expression,
I hear whispers... Whispers in the wind... Echoing through my mind... Each time the sound is dimmed... They have yet to be spoken and never will, Nor written on paper, with pen, or quill
Bees are sitting On the Wind Drifting Feeding On the Wind Bringing life to those once dead Bees are searching On the Wind
Stardust winded Wishes dispersed throughout You wait The sacrificing pigeon; as white as neon She flies over our head Builds the nest For the progeny of Liberty