I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.
Attineo Feb 2015
I want to make quiet music
that is so strong
you want to play it loud.
Anna Feb 2015
Crystal waves crash
against the sandy beaches
you sit down
to watch the once radiant sun
hide from the world
as if ashamed
the skies turn pink and purple
everything starts to quiet down
and once again
you're left alone
quiet dawn's dim light
serenity at its best
sneaking up on you
© 2015  J.J.W. Coyle
JM Romig Apr 2014
The way Sunday sits in its secret hideaway paradise
at the end of the week
It's legs carelessly kicking at the lake,
with wet bare feet
making concentric circles in the water with its toes

That's how you make me feel.
NaPoWriMo 20/30
KT May 2015
I am quiet.
The silence I favor,
but not the one that dams every thought
that bubbles around our heads.
I'd like to rip it apart,
but I'll drown from the ripped quiet dam.
That silence I don't favor.
I am quiet again.
Su Jun 2014
It was like the room was mute
After our boundary dispute
You are a person of repute
Taking over my pursuit
I wish you'd not commute

but everything is so quiet
(these poems are on my blogger)
DEFINITIONS  
*dispute : a fight *
* repute: having high hopes
* pursuit : dreams and goals*
* commute : to leave *
Anna Oct 2014
I know I'm not as quiet as I could be when I should be.
But thoughts are just perpetual graves dug over and over.
That seems a bit redundant,
but so is this thought.
Mikayla Lash Aug 2014
Maybe I’m so quiet because
I find peace in silence
And flaws in my words
Gideon May 2015
I love the sound of silence
Of the quiet between the songs I hear
And the music of the silence between the notes
A Watoot May 2015
You understood my tears,
and fought away all my fears.
It's been pretty quiet tonight,
I know everything's gonna be alright.
shh
Amy H Mar 2015
Sunday.
The coffee knows,
and my toes;
I can't move either.
Sunday.
House is quiet,
after the riot;
it's a breather.
Monday.
Comes too fast,
a weekend passed;
not a pleaser.
Sunday.
Through a week,
your silent break
is just a teaser.
Sunday.
Feelin' lazy;
it's all hazy...
feeling lazy
Ace Malarky Aug 2014
The Quiet perches
My bosom burden true
Eyelids drooping
      and then the quiet grew

It, from golden bowl
To quench its thirst
Drinks my soul

Now my legs are set in lead
And I lie welded to my bed

I should do something
--Ace
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