Gratitude

The First Frost: Happy As A Lark
Ghostly breaths linger in the morning air after each exhale While glassy stares escape the banks of watery accretions Caused by icy inhales, not yet warmed, but somehow continue to prevail
By simplicityabout a year ago in Poets
the beauty of the holidays. Runner-Up in Holiday Reflections in Verse Challenge. Top Story - November 2024.
the beauty of the holidays is growing up to realize the magic i felt as a child was created by the adults in my life it was my parents bundling us in the car,
By Portgas D. Sara (they/them)about a year ago in Poets
On Growth
In the lone, wide stretch of Texas plains, Where coyotes cry and sorrow reigns, A young child wandered, small and frail, With eyes wide open, soft and pale.
By (JERJ) Thudd Walkerabout a year ago in Poets
Roots of Love
In gentle arms, a child once lay, Parents watch, as night turns day. Guiding hands, so warm and strong, Their whispered dreams, a lifelong song.
By mureed hussainabout a year ago in Poets
Tears we cry
As Clara grew older, the memories of her stepmother’s cruelty lingered, but they didn’t define her. Instead, they became the fuel that ignited a fire of resilience within her. Clara developed a deep empathy for others, particularly those who were vulnerable or mistreated. Her past had taught her to recognize the signs of suffering hidden behind forced smiles or quiet silences. She vowed to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, to be the voice that spoke up when others couldn’t.
By Taviii🇨🇦♐️about a year ago in Poets
Impermanent Diamonds
A silent, diamond-studded world Greets my eyes with the dawn. The deep, November morning chill Worked magic on the lawn.
By Dana Crandellabout a year ago in Poets
A grandmothers love
A Grandmother's Love Sat by the window, looking out at the rain, She carried the weight of so much pain. With thirteen children, her hands were full,
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The morning of first snowfall
"Can we go outside?" Your voices summon me from my warm bed at the first sight of snow. Groggy, I bundle you in layers, see which snow boots still fit from last year,
By F Cade Swansonabout a year ago in Poets
The secret of happiness
I still feel safe Whenever I build things in my view of the unknown And I responded to the voice of curiosity inside me
By Kisama Riyo about a year ago in Poets
I am a human being
I am the human being I am the human being, I am the creation created by the Most Gracious I am yesterday, I am tomorrow, I am history for all ages
By Kisama Riyo about a year ago in Poets
The road
I was on a well-known road And night and silence and terror shakes the entity and madness And you don't hear or speak or feel
By Kisama Riyo about a year ago in Poets
Cycles
And here I sit in the fields of whole grain and grass, Of leaf and clover, where insects and birds chirp to the Evening procession of ‘time’.
By Sabayo Matikuabout a year ago in Poets