Fantasy poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best fantasy poems ever written. Read all poems about fantasy.
That like a daisy opens its petals to the sun
So do you
Open your face to me as I turn the page.
With promise of job,
he lured her into a cane field.
His gentleness a veil of sanity.
Lurking in his mind,
The construction of a woman:
a woman is not made of flesh
of bone and sinew
belly and breasts, elbows and liver and toe.
On an apple-ripe September morning
Through the mist-chill fields I went
With a pitch-fork on my shoulder
Less for use than for devilment.
I was just an innocent
Caught in a whirlpool of puerile dreams,
Every second I spent with you,
Really was a dream come true.
The chirp of birds in the early morning
Bless my smiles with their innocent calling
I head outside with my blanket wrapped around
And lay there listening to this memorable sound.
Stand in front of the mirror
Either boys or girls, some got depression
Try to find yourself underneath the reflection
Dissect each point, seek for perfection
White dazzles my inner divide,
Black thrown in with my unruly side,
My parents wave me a lingering goodbye,
They have always nurtured my childlike soul,
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy,
Sphere-born harmonious Sisters, Voice and Verse,
Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ
Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce,
I love the evenings, passionless and fair, I love the evens,
Whether old manor-fronts their ray with golden fulgence leavens,
In numerous leafage bosomed close;
Whether the mist in reefs of fire extend its reaches sheer,
The first poem was a wonder
The second was a surprise.
The third poem made me a poet,
The fourth gave me a name and fame.
Her voice is like clear water
That drips upon a stone
In forests far and silent
Where Quiet plays alone.
Life is a bright, long star boulevard,
Where you get good, when you work hard.
But Life is not a fantasy,
With just a handful of barren land,
And tottering dreams based on the sand.
Yet the desire continued to bloom,
To produce the green out of the doom.
It may indeed be fantasy when I
Essay to draw from all created things
Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings;
And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie
As the sun shone bright
Over the intense deep blue ocean,
The small boat smoothly sailed,
Moving calmly over the mild waves,
~ Désespoir! Pourquoi? ~
Today I slipped into a dream
And saw a better world
A world of peace and gentleness
Before my eyes unfurled
FOR one throb of the artery,
While on that old grey stone I Sat
Under the old wind-broken tree,
I lost a good friend. I looked up to him and he encouraged, laughed with me and even prayed with me. He had a great impression but somewhere it took it's toll on him that I was not that but maybe a fantasy of his to love precariously through our friendship but the fantasy didn't last. I hoped you would still be my friend until the end. I thought I hated you but my love for you will never change. I don't love to just to love and have it ever. I will accept the fact we may never be together. I will hope that one day we can talk again but until then take care my dear friend. I love you.
In the world of fantasy
One day I'll make it happen for real
Because I know birth of real
Way backs to conception in fantasy.
Visit stars, oceans, or rich Samarkand
Turning the pages will open your mind
Books are the passport to fantasy land
She belonged to a fantasy world
Surrounded by misty mornings
In a far away land
With everlasting greens
All are in sadness a reality,
All are in glad a fantasy,
We all look for a fantasy,
To escape from the unkind fate.
Just once, Josephine, lend me your ears
Just once, Josephine, let me be the dream
That titillates your fantasy to wipe your tears
As you and I swim in unison upstream.
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