childrens poetry
Nostalgia-inducing poetry inspired by our earliest favorites; from Dr. Seuss to Mother Goose, children’s poetry is all grown up.
Love is a metaphor
Love begins with a metaphor that rules in the contradiction of vows, The one that emphasizes the conditionality one endows
Hridya SharmaPublished 14 days ago in PoetsHeartstrings: Verses from the Poet’s Soul
In the poet’s heart, a garden blooms, Where words take flight like butterflies in June. Each syllable a petal, delicate and pure,
Wilderness-2
I want to strip myself bare And wander through you Without a care Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
Atomic HistorianPublished 15 days ago in PoetsCITY TOWER
In downtown Brooklyn, where the city thrives, A tower of steel and glass, it arrives. Tall and proud, it pierces the sky,
Glacier HeartPublished 15 days ago in PoetsGoat
In a meadow green, where wildflowers sway, A playful goat spent its sunny day. With a ball of red, it frolicked and played,
Be happy
In the whispers of morning’s first light, Where dewdrops glisten, a shimmering sight, Lies a world untouched, a canvas pristine,
flowery field
In the meadow’s golden glow, a bee takes flight, Its wings a blur of motion, in the soft sunlight. Amidst the petals, it lands with grace,
Convincing my favorite book to change its name
Triabilsing with the terror of the unknown, Gasping at the bane of my existence, my soul set on a quest to discover a new home
Hridya SharmaPublished 15 days ago in PoetsMoon
In the velvet sky, the moon holds sway, A gentle orb that guides the way. Silver beams dance on waves below, Casting a mystical, enchanting glow.
The truth
Don't be afraid of come back, The metal eating honor: He who understands the brittle heart of steel, Shall not tremble before any blade.
Stumbling
Looking at how many days it’s been Since I was last here I’ve lost pace again But it’s for a better reason this time than last year
Atomic HistorianPublished 16 days ago in PoetsOld oak
Throughout the centuries, my roots have delved deep into the warm ground, And through centuries, fierce storms have failed to tear them out,