Learn more about other poetry terms
I drank the moon It was blue at noon My heart was snatched by bloom I was mad as insanity driven soon Each rev was mind blown as the moon and noon
Good night my little wee oneIt's time to close your eyesIf you'll but wait till morningYou'll get a big surpriseThe sun will smile and greet youIn ever changing skiesFor mom and daddy love you
Sun scorching, sweltering, sizzling beach.My hardened soles resist the heat.Sunglasses shielding my eyes.White cotton ball clouds glide.Along deep blue skies.But I’m blue too.
To soar high in the clouds like a bird To feel free and not chained To explore the world around us The closest we have to flying The closest we have to floating in the sky
I've never been a man to stand tall... I've never been the man to call... The voices; I'll kill them all... Waiting for the sky to fall... There was something about that day,
Stevie, we were free, Stevie, you and me, On that golden day, Was it ’68? The decade’s last few days, The whole wild world was crazed, But where we were was peace, For you and me at least.
Kind faces smiling, Nodding politely at words They don’t seem to understand, Show me pictures Showing the richness Of a faraway distant land, Multicoloured motor cars,
Skies are gray and flat The crunchy leaves stir about I color blank streets
All I see is blue Transcends all seas, skies, and space The earth kissed my face
That gentle breeze Nothing but fresh air It is crystal clear Rising up through the atmosphere When the ship sails Over the horizon You can see those nightly skies As you approach your destination
my eyes will not enchant you friends will not ask why can't you escape pervading thoughts of me like a stream dreaming shots of sea you will not wonder how i cross a room
To capture a picture means a memory
Red, the raven flies in the northern skies. Black clouds growl on the horizon, while the faded orange sun rises in the east, the shimmering sea is but a sodden patch.
It smells like rain, dear. The grey sky cries heavily. I want to cry too.
Beautiful skies filled with gray Some may think oh what a shame But i, certainly do not We hold on to the very last bit we have