Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
In ancient times of yore, When firelight flickered on the floor, And shadows danced upon the walls, The storyteller spun his tales.
By zeruya tabitha3 years ago in Poets
In the city for a long time, more and more envy pastoral life. Countryside fields, white clouds and birds, birds call, curling smoke...... Time is not hurried, life is not noisy and noisy, which is probably the most desirable life.
By antoine3 years ago in Poets
The taste of summer lingers on my tongue, As sweet strawberries burst with flavor and fun. The scent of honeysuckle in the air,
By Umut Çalışkan3 years ago in Poets
What happened to Jennifer Aniston? Did she fly to Mars to explore the crimson? Or did she join a band and play guitar,
By Khudair Ahmed Shaikh3 years ago in Poets
Across the miles, my love for you Flows like a river, pure and true Though distance keeps us far apart You're always with me in my heart
By Ema 3 years ago in Poets
From a mother's lap, To the world we step, A journey of life, With twists and turns, we accept. Childhood embraces us, With a school's warm hug, Learning to read and write, And making friends like a bug.
By Tamseela Farooq3 years ago in Poets
I danced with the devil To a wicked melody I danced with the devil Moved my feet one, two, three Swayed until he set me free,
By thekarlamaemojares3 years ago in Poets
In the middle of nature After my walk Down by the river I sat on a rock I Listened to the thunderous roar of the wind in the distance,
By Dylan 3 years ago in Poets
I know I'm passing out when my vision starts disappearing Static encroaching on my eyes, tense and pulling, my focus fails but never blurs
By Rielle Hein3 years ago in Poets
Balance and thermoception are now often classified as'senses' by scientists, expanding the number of faculties that are considered to be part of the human sensory apparatus beyond the traditional five.
By Jacob Damian3 years ago in Poets
Affection is a feeling so sweet, It warms your heart and makes it beat. It blossoms slowly like a flower, And lasts through every passing hour.
By Hassaankhan3 years ago in Poets
In the quiet of the morning light, The world awakens, free and bright, The sun ascends the eastern sky, And birds take wing, and butterflies.
By Hira Waheed3 years ago in Poets
