Imagery Poems - 1 Poem by ashok jadhav

1. Dawn Breaking Over Fields
Mist loosens its grip on the grass,
Light spills like milk from the sky;
Rows of wheat lift their pale faces
As the sun clears its eye.
A rooster splits the quiet air,
Dew burns silver and brief;
Morning walks barefoot through the land,
Leaving gold on each leaf.
2. Rain on Dry Earth
The first drop strikes dust—
A dark coin pressed into thirst;
Then another, and the land exhales
A scent older than words.
Cracks soften, ants retreat,
Leaves drink without a sound;
Rain writes mercy on the soil
Until the earth is unbound.
3. A Lonely Mountain Path
Stones remember every foot
That turned back or went on;
Pine needles hush the narrow trail
Where shadows lean at dawn.
No voice but wind and breath,
No mark but passing cloud;
The path keeps secrets in its curves
And solitude walks proud.
4. Ocean Tides and Shells
The sea breathes in, the sea breathes out,
A slow and ancient chest;
Shells lie open on wet sand,
Pearl-throats at rest.
Salt stiffens the hem of air,
Gulls stitch white cries above;
The tide erases every name
Except the ones it loves.
5. Moonlight on Water
The moon lays silver on the lake
Without a single sound;
Ripples break the fragile coin
And mend it, broken, round.
Night holds its breath along the shore,
Stars lean in to see
How light can learn to tremble so
And still be light—be free.
6. Forest Shadows
Branches cross like whispered paths,
Dark stitched with filtered green;
Footsteps sink into old leaves
Where light has rarely been.
Something watches, something waits
In bark, in root, in air;
The forest keeps its breathing low
And teaches hush to care.
7. Desert Silence
No bird writes its name in the sky,
No leaf remembers rain;
Sand holds the heat of vanished days
Like an unspoken pain.
The sun stands still, the horizon bends,
Time thins to a thread;
Silence here is not the lack of sound—
It is everything said.
8. Blooming and Withering Flowers
Morning opens a rose in red,
Petals thick with breath;
By evening, edges brown and curl,
Already tasting death.
Bloom and wither share one stem,
One season, one design;
Beauty learns to leave the world
The moment it learns to shine.