#verdant - Hello Poetry

Often, I yearn for the visitor of my destiny to come, I am often astray in myself at how he will ask, “doesn’t the scent of the night’s cool air after rain feel entrancing with jazz music?, I walk upon the grass as the moth heralds it’s sudden appearance before vanishing, I envision him in my mind’s eye arriving gentler than velvet wings before myself in the meadow of white flowers carrying the stars lustre, they behold their floral gaze upon us, the two mortals who cradle each other in their arms as he softly speaks to my ear, “oh songbird, hold the music box of my soul dear, it plays the notes of my heart for you” to which I would remain calm, for I could not find my voice to return his treasure of symphonies, I would linger in this phantasm, though for now I am savoring the sun’s first light over the verdant heights.

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Mar 31, 2025

Mar 31, 2025 at 3:22 PM UTC

hiba-mohammed-sobh

Verdant Heights

Often, I yearn for the visitor of my destiny to come, I am often astray in myself at how he will ask, “doesn’t the scent of the night’s cool air after rain feel entrancing with jazz music?, I walk upon the grass as the moth heralds it’s sudden appearance before vanishing, I envision him in my mind’s eye arriving gentler than velvet wings before myself in the meadow of white flowers carrying the stars lustre, they behold their floral gaze upon us, the two mortals who cradle each other in their arms as he softly speaks to my ear, “oh songbird, hold the music box of my soul dear, it plays the notes of my heart for you” to which I would remain calm, for I could not find my voice to return his treasure of symphonies, I would linger in this phantasm, though for now I am savoring the sun’s first light over the verdant heights.

1

My hands over handles and the studded upholstery Reflective and cold as the strangers come close to me Swaying like passengers stood on a boat I'm fleetingly heartened by the accents I know Picking them out of the bullying crowds We're hurrying past unfamiliar towns The streetcorners, bridges and shops that they know Serenely suffused by a summery glow The picturesque places they lazily go, like postcards or paintings delivered back home I'm rolling on by their entire other lives Their lot on my mind and to them unbeknownst Like a rousing of wind which as suddenly goes For a moment we had almost been close

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Feb 4, 2020

Feb 4, 2020 at 7:27 AM UTC

Dan_B_89

Distance

My hands over handles and the studded upholstery Reflective and cold as the strangers come close to me Swaying like passengers stood on a boat I'm fleetingly heartened by the accents I know Picking them out of the bullying crowds We're hurrying past unfamiliar towns The streetcorners, bridges and shops that they know Serenely suffused by a summery glow The picturesque places they lazily go, like postcards or paintings delivered back home I'm rolling on by their entire other lives Their lot on my mind and to them unbeknownst Like a rousing of wind which as suddenly goes For a moment we had almost been close

14

First of the part of the journey The sea washes The sand castle In a hassle of moist touches Shaping my future like God's touches I feel blessed As the empty red sunset sky watches Looks like the faces of the dirt and the dust Lay the waste to the degrees of the deserted fields Cause the spring time rains on the Heads on the bickering rabble of the lost civilizations Where has out water gone? Where is our respect? Smirking MAGA kid convicted of arrogance Pretend to be docile to bring out the silence In your enemy Provoke disgrace by being free Out of the trees Of last vicars That make the yellow tainted spruce Meant for the civilized truth Darkness cannot drive out darkness Only love can do that

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Jan 23, 2019

Jan 23, 2019 at 5:23 AM UTC

aditya-roy

Darkness Falls Across The Riverside

First of the part of the journey The sea washes The sand castle In a hassle of moist touches Shaping my future like God's touches I feel blessed As the empty red sunset sky watches Looks like the faces of the dirt and the dust Lay the waste to the degrees of the deserted fields Cause the spring time rains on the Heads on the bickering rabble of the lost civilizations Where has out water gone? Where is our respect? Smirking MAGA kid convicted of arrogance Pretend to be docile to bring out the silence In your enemy Provoke disgrace by being free Out of the trees Of last vicars That make the yellow tainted spruce Meant for the civilized truth Darkness cannot drive out darkness Only love can do that

23

You have come out less who you are. You have given up on your tiny screen, maybe for that chance at your mother’s arms. Maybe that’s me, or maybe we’re both a little far away from knowing who you are: a giant queen of ease visiting strangers hearts. We know things, but to hear ourselves speak we’d need to scream Out louder than the Red Spot afar. It was a tiny joy to feel, to feel you’d chosen me to shepherd us through the stars. This map worn with your grief leads to a hemlock branch strung hammock where I imagine laying in today’s grand autumnal festivities. In a place where pain and disease run off together, and don’t stop to think where you and I might be. In this world where we are In this world where they gave you a chance At giving up on who you were. We were sitting out beside the sea, given a spot of almond milk to go with our tea, it was pouring art and raining beliefs, it had finally given you a chance to breathe, a child free to live without despair’s feral fiends. Twirling, through verdant orchards caught by envies gleaned by greens’ motif. This is not the place where I died But rather the place I learned to stop worrying and learned to love my life.

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Nov 14, 2018

Nov 14, 2018 at 8:07 PM UTC

martin-narrod

Strewn Like Dancers Through The Stars

You have come out less who you are. You have given up on your tiny screen, maybe for that chance at your mother’s arms. Maybe that’s me, or maybe we’re both a little far away from knowing who you are: a giant queen of ease visiting strangers hearts. We know things, but to hear ourselves speak we’d need to scream Out louder than the Red Spot afar. It was a tiny joy to feel, to feel you’d chosen me to shepherd us through the stars. This map worn with your grief leads to a hemlock branch strung hammock where I imagine laying in today’s grand autumnal festivities. In a place where pain and disease run off together, and don’t stop to think where you and I might be. In this world where we are In this world where they gave you a chance At giving up on who you were. We were sitting out beside the sea, given a spot of almond milk to go with our tea, it was pouring art and raining beliefs, it had finally given you a chance to breathe, a child free to live without despair’s feral fiends. Twirling, through verdant orchards caught by envies gleaned by greens’ motif. This is not the place where I died But rather the place I learned to stop worrying and learned to love my life.

10

Pay green. All that you've seen this year. To come. . . What's to come? To come. . . Got black? Pay black. Not black? Get black. Pay green. All that you've ever seen or ever will see. To come. . . What's to come? To come. . . Indication. I'm a bad itch. I'm worse than that -- I'm deliberate in the gears that I turn, year after year. I'm a depressive ***** in a dark descent from the spring spearmint to an autumnal orange, set in a somber sky, to a familiar black.

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Oct 28, 2018

Oct 28, 2018 at 6:10 PM UTC

Simillacrum

Autumnal Gloom

Pay green. All that you've seen this year. To come. . . What's to come? To come. . . Got black? Pay black. Not black? Get black. Pay green. All that you've ever seen or ever will see. To come. . . What's to come? To come. . . Indication. I'm a bad itch. I'm worse than that -- I'm deliberate in the gears that I turn, year after year. I'm a depressive ***** in a dark descent from the spring spearmint to an autumnal orange, set in a somber sky, to a familiar black.

27

Suddenly, the silence prevails and approaches me with a verdant orb in it's hands The cold wind is passing by gesturing my reverie Sometimes harshly like frozen needles piercing your naked body Sometimes softly like sun beams clasping your naked soul Around me blooms of every hue and for every mood Each one narrates it's own tale My shadow revolves around a cold emerald I am that colour now It escorts me to the carriage of the winter I was longing for

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Oct 13, 2018

Oct 13, 2018 at 11:09 AM UTC

nikolaos1

Verdant Winter

Suddenly, the silence prevails and approaches me with a verdant orb in it's hands The cold wind is passing by gesturing my reverie Sometimes harshly like frozen needles piercing your naked body Sometimes softly like sun beams clasping your naked soul Around me blooms of every hue and for every mood Each one narrates it's own tale My shadow revolves around a cold emerald I am that colour now It escorts me to the carriage of the winter I was longing for

19

Wrap me in teals, corals and turquoise of the oceans, Envelop me in veils of azure, Drape me in verdant hues of the forest, Swathe me in the crimson of sunsets, Embroider my robes with fuchsia, amber and plum, Hide twinkling diamonds in the folds to play hide-and-seek like stars on a cloudy night, Nestle amidst my tumbled chestnut, bronze hair, Emeralds, sapphires, amethysts and pearls, Woven together with gossamer threads of cool silver and sun-drenched gold, Tuck away violets, jasmines and orange blossoms into my crown, Cocooned in their sweet fragrance, Cloaked in Nature's splendor, Leave me in solitude, Where the skies embrace the seas, Away from the rusty hues of blood and steel, From ash, charcoal and misery, From drab taupes, dingy olives and mousy browns of normalcy, Let me revel in jewel tones, Colors as flamboyant as me.

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May 29, 2017

May 29, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC

indianmagpie

Jewel-Toned

Wrap me in teals, corals and turquoise of the oceans, Envelop me in veils of azure, Drape me in verdant hues of the forest, Swathe me in the crimson of sunsets, Embroider my robes with fuchsia, amber and plum, Hide twinkling diamonds in the folds to play hide-and-seek like stars on a cloudy night, Nestle amidst my tumbled chestnut, bronze hair, Emeralds, sapphires, amethysts and pearls, Woven together with gossamer threads of cool silver and sun-drenched gold, Tuck away violets, jasmines and orange blossoms into my crown, Cocooned in their sweet fragrance, Cloaked in Nature's splendor, Leave me in solitude, Where the skies embrace the seas, Away from the rusty hues of blood and steel, From ash, charcoal and misery, From drab taupes, dingy olives and mousy browns of normalcy, Let me revel in jewel tones, Colors as flamboyant as me.

19

*Truths under Suns' eye Tapestries, seedlings and bloom Lies a garden vale*

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Aug 27, 2015

Aug 27, 2015 at 10:23 PM UTC