Warmness poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best Warmness poems ever written. Read all poems about Warmness.
She is lying hidden
Inside a pear-shaped shell
A rough, rock-hard outside
So porcelain white inside
There's an empty cottage
at the end of this lane
Looking upon this tree with its quaint pretension
Of holding the earth, a leveret, in its claws,
Or marking the texture of its living bark,
A grey sea wrinkled by the winds of years,
God is truth; soul is truth you feel dear,
Rest of the things we see here in this world,
These are matters, these change their forms,
We see illusion captures mind very easily.
I don’t deserve your stunning smile
Or your twinkling eyes
So guess I’ll wait a while
The one thing I despise
I miss your quiet caring, your gentelness,
the softness of you, and the warm cloak
of your love.
Little, little cold is arriving
With wings of coldness and snow
This will cover our minds sure
Pure heart will need warmness
There are many roads we face in this thing called life,
some take us to heights unparalleled,
Some are filled with precious stones, pebbles, that leave a bright glimmer like the sun,
Others lead us back around to our favorite places we've passed,
Getting greatest bless is fortune,
Nature has got this as mercy of God,
Both womanhood and motherhood unite,
A scene of perfect nourishment we feel,
By Anna Polibina-Polansky. Springtime *** Another spring season is on. No matter how many humans are counted away. Quibbles by Beckett are about, but common sense reigns. I watch unfamiliar faces outside, but old ties appear and rule your Universe. Verbal motives are implorable. Meters are impeccable. Stanzas gently, mildly occur. What is yet on, out of prior plots? Warmness trades dandelions and first camomiles. Tulips disappear in haze of early May. Emotions are rippened and still, forgotten. The juicy grass keeps me bewaring new subjects. Fresh lines of events aren't too welcomed. The wintry strokes fade, the seashore appeals to most secret sensations. Planes, trains, grains of new emotions or, rather, impressions. I prefer new locations, but reminding the survived ones. I am a hidden mariner within my own ego. I am demanded where I don't prefer to be. It is this way all along. Reposing, oblivion and memories are the best. I share my recollections with few of folks, as the alternating reality is habitual here. Changes come up each day, and they are substantial, numerous, multiplying. Details are even more astonishing, frightening, appearing in intricate hipes. Sharp remembrances rule the world; only faces gradually come out of their contours, thaw away in imperious haze. Haughty riddles, arrogant labirynths. My emotions are peers for the springtime. They pretend to be kids. It's high time I had kids.
Rachel, Every word you confide in me, every wonderful and terrible moment you share with me, melts me inside.
You let yourself be vulnerable with me and trust me beyond my comprehension.
I never imagined I would truly find a woman who I would want to spend so much time with, who could truly touch my life the way you have, even without trying. I look forward to many more special moments together. When I see you, I see our future. I never knew how joyous life could be until I saw your face. My heart leaps like a hummingbird in flight every time I see you. And it is you that inspires it. When I think about you and our rich conversations, I feel a warmness inside.
I cannot hide my smiles, even when we are apart.
Inside Melton who has made,
These overcoats and jackets,
As winter has come after autumn,
To make life smooth,
Floating in the distance,
Clear and clean and crisp
Solace comes to comfort,
Takes the tears away.
Upon the furthest reaches
Full of light
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