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drown by the lake pier

i fish to sleep forever

never wash ashore
self semi plagiarized
Anti Haiku
The apple looks down from the treetop
Marvels at the beauty of the lake which flows beside its home, the apple tree.

‘Oh how wonderful it must be to take a dip in the pristine lake and come out sparkling clean’

The lake charmed by the red delicious  apple, wondered

‘How blessed the humans must be to eat and cherish every bite of the juicy apple, sweet!’

Thoughts of the pristine lake and the apple sweet
Unheard by the deer, prancing under the tree
Star BG : Apr 2
Looked at your picture and out this came. :)

Two apples sat on window cil. Both taking in the beautiful scenery. Both using their scent to attract nostril canals to wet an appetite. Both reminding of the concept to share and take in the scenery.
Gale L Mccoy Sep 10
made up of wind over wind over earth fueling fire
no water to smooth the edges and clean out the soot
flow down with gravity instead of float to the head
so soak, let the lake fill cracks in the psyche
permeable skin, drink through feet
push off from banks
become the moon in the water
Did you ever jump into a very deep lake or pool, you swim up, and you didn't have any air left a few inches below the surface? That's what depression feels like. Every day, with everything you do. You are so far down in the water that getting up for air is not an option anymore. It's easier to just swim down. Forever.
A "poem" every day.

I'm not saying that this is all depression is. It's so much more, so much more complex than this. It's so different for everyone you can't explain even if you have a million words. This is what depression feels like for me. I'm alive and here, and so incredibly grateful for everyone around me. (and the people on HelloPoetry to) Whatever you feel is okay and valid. If you want to talk, feel free to message me if you want. Remember that y'all are amazing and that I love you so much.
Ackerrman Aug 2
In case you forget,
In all your darkest moments,
Sunshine dancing petulantly on the water.
I would like to share the majesty-

Endless lawns of forlorn, scraggly grass
Stretches and etches hills into life.
Formed from the hand of an artist,
Stroking the countenance
And beaming beauty into its many folds,

Little hovels of black, vert and emerald
Hide like mice and voles,
Shivering in the sanctity
And uncertain security
That the upside-down mounds afford.

The lane is a wash of blue,
Smiling delicately at a distance
Flowing as it waves,
Languid and ***,
Comfortable in it's age.

But one tree,
Standing helplessly,
Hopelessly, out of place.
Feeling content, in its lovely face.

Even the sky agrees,
For there is no quarrel
Between it and the translucent, ethereal colours
Flooding the canvas.
What is the work of man compared to God?

And how much more beautiful it is than anything I have seen
A poem I wrote in the lake district
Thera Lance Aug 1
When you run your fingers through his hair,
They burn as hot as the orange strands
That streak through the red of his locks
Which are too warm these fall nights.

You’re not sure when you realized that
He wasn’t like you,
Human and soft enough to be pricked by the knife’s edge
That he playfully dragged across his tongue
While looking at you with eyes that refracted the amber light of his soul.

He’s not sure when he realized that he’d stay,
Far past the summer when you met
On the sandy banks of the lake that swallowed light
Until it was the same deep blue of your eyes,
Binding him to your side long after the sun set
And the rays upon the bed’s sheets had faded
Into a warm glow in the dark.

When he runs his hands over your toes,
Cooled by the coming winter
That wraps you up in wool sweaters
And leaves you huffing as he walks by in only jeans,
He realizes that he dare not leave
You to grow cold these coming nights.
A few years ago, I did not think I would be writing paranormal/fantasy romance poems.
دema Jul 31
close your eyes
and feel the sea
watch the water
turn blue, green and teal,
let the wind take the lead,
breathe in the sun,
don’t let your sins bleed,
exhale out all the deadlines,
and shine.
glimmers of bright lambent light
flitted over the vast lake
they were like ballerinas
imitating swans
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