childrens poetry
Nostalgia-inducing poetry inspired by our earliest favorites; from Dr. Seuss to Mother Goose, children’s poetry is all grown up.
WHISPER IN THE NIGHT
In shadows deep where moonlight wanes, A city veiled in midnight's reins. Tall towers cloaked in dark attire, Whispers stirring, fueled by ire. Neon lights, a spectral glow, Reflecting secrets down below. Rain-soaked streets, a mirror's sheen, Hold clandestine tales unseen. Verse 1: The Veiled City Beneath the moon, the city sleeps, Yet secrets in its heart, it keeps. Towers tall like guardians stand, In the heart of night, a whispered command. Among the alleys, dimly lit, A figure moves, cloak well knit. Whispers follow every stride, In the city where secrets hide. Verse 2: The Dance of Shadows A dance of shadows, a city's ballet, Footsteps echo in the alleyway. Silhouettes against the neon haze, Engage in a nocturnal maze. A rendezvous in the silent night, Where whispers wield their secret might. A clandestine pact, a covert scheme, Woven into the city's dream. Verse 3: Neon Dreams Neon dreams on wet asphalt, Reflect the secrets, the hidden fault. Beneath the glow of electric light, Whispers travel through the night. In the quiet corners of the town, Conspiracies in shadows are sown. A clandestine meeting, veiled intent, Whispers in the night, discontent. Verse 4: Midnight Pantomime Through the mist, a figure weaves, A midnight pantomime it conceives. Crimson lips in a devil's kiss, A rendezvous sealed in secrecy's bliss. The city's pulse, a muted drum, Beats with secrets, whispering hum. In the night, the truth's disguise, Veiled beneath the city's lies. Verse 5: The Enigma Unveiled In the heart of the city, a library old, With dusty tomes and secrets untold. A mysterious book, pages turned, Whispers in the night, secrets learned. The enigma unveiled, truths unfold, In the quiet spaces, a story untold. A spectral glow reveals the scheme, Whispers echo in the midnight dream. Verse 6: Broken Reflections A shattered mirror in a moonlit room, Reflects a world in impending gloom. Broken reflections, fractured truth, Whispers hint at a spectral sleuth. In the shards, a fractured reality, Whispers weave a web of duality. In the night, where shadows play, The truth remains just one whisper away. Verse 7: A Web of Deceit A grand ballroom in silks and gold, Masks adorned, a story unfolds. Dancers twirl in a delicate dance, Unseen webs of deceit advance. In the masquerade, a game of chance, Whispers spin a deceptive trance. Masks conceal the faces true, Whispers know what shadows do. Verse 8: Veins of Vengeance Through molten rivers of fiery veins, A land ablaze with vengeance reins. In the heart of flames, a pulsing core, Whispers of revenge forevermore. Veins of vengeance, a fiery plight, A city's fate sealed in the night. Glowing magma in shadows flow, Whispers in the night, a fiery woe. Verse 9: The Unseen Catalyst An alchemist's workshop, arcane art, Potions brewed, a mystic start. An unseen catalyst hovers near, Whispers of change, whispers clear. In the dim light of the alchemist's den, A potion stirred, a fateful blend. Unseen forces in the quiet hour, Whispers of destiny, a hidden power. Verse 10: In the Grasp of Fate A cosmic tableau in celestial grace, A figure stands in a cosmic embrace. Threads of destiny woven tight, In the grasp of fate, whispers ignite. Cosmic bodies in a celestial dance, Whispers in the night enhance. A figure caught in destiny's snare, Whispers echo in the midnight air. Finale: The Night's Reckoning In the heart of the city where whispers play, Secrets unfold in the night's array. Neon dreams and shattered reflections, Veins of vengeance and cosmic connections. A grand ballroom's deceitful dance, An alchemist's potion, a fateful chance. In the grasp of fate, a cosmic vow, Whispers in the night, here and now. In shadows deep where moonlight wanes, The city holds its secret reins. Whispers linger, a nocturnal plight, In the symphony of whispers in the night.
By Zmeyo Nikolaiev3 years ago in Poets
SHADOWS OF SILENCE
In the hushed embrace of the moonlit glade, Where the ancient oaks weave a shadowed cascade, A lone figure emerged, wrapped in midnight's shroud, The keeper of secrets, in silence unbowed. Through the whispering leaves, the zephyrs sighed, As Shadows of Silence, their secrets implied. Beneath the celestial canvas, where stars confide, A tale unfolded, in the shadows to hide. In the heart of the forest, where time stood still, The air thickened with a mystical chill. Eyes gleamed like silver, reflecting the night, The guardian of silence, veiled in lunar light. The wanderer moved, with footsteps unheard, Through realms entwined, where echoes were stirred. A cloak of obsidian concealed every trace, In the realm of shadows, a spectral embrace. A crescent moon witnessed the spectral ballet, As Shadows of Silence unveiled a pathway. Twinkling like diamonds, the night sky's art, A celestial ballet played in every heart. Silent whispers echoed through the ancient trees, Unraveling tales of forgotten decrees. A riddle in the wind, a cipher in the stream, In the Shadows of Silence, reality would gleam. On the edge of the glade, a portal unfurled, A gateway to realms where mysteries swirled. The wanderer stepped into the veiled unknown, In the Shadows of Silence, destinies were sown. A tapestry woven with threads of the night, Secrets entwined, shimmering in moonlight. Through twilight whispers and lunar beams, In the heart of silence, dreams birthed in streams. The guardian, a silhouette against the cosmic sea, Glimpses of truth veiled in obscurity. The nocturnal symphony, a celestial dance, In the Shadows of Silence, a mystic trance. The wanderer traversed the ethereal plane, Where reality wavered, like a fragile chain. Through realms interwoven, where time was spun, In the Shadows of Silence, a journey begun. In the tapestry of silence, a story unfurls, A saga of secrets, in moonlight's swirls. The wanderer sought what the night concealed, In the Shadows of Silence, destiny revealed. Through spectral whispers and shadows cast, The wanderer journeyed, memories amassed. In the realm of silence, where echoes slept, A symphony of whispers, secrets kept. On the horizon, where the night meets the day, Shadows of Silence beckoned the wanderer's way. A clandestine path through the cosmic expanse, In the heart of silence, a fateful dance. As the moon dipped low, embracing the dawn, The wanderer's quest was silently drawn. In the Shadows of Silence, a legacy sown, A whispered tale, through the night wind blown. The guardian vanished, a wraith in the mist, Leaving behind echoes, the silent tryst. The glade stood still, as the sun took flight, In the Shadows of Silence, the guardian's silent night.
By Zmeyo Nikolaiev3 years ago in Poets
The secret
When the month passes with yellow hair, Then from the heavenly black fields That single word fell like a drop: Then I understood what my loneliness is. . . And I understood, as if enchanted, What is the meaning of my fear among things. Spread the morning like flames, A thousand white wings across the sea, And the bright earth spread the signs, And words all over the white marble. Then, faced with the secret that she was dying, All the mouths spoke things. Creator, through storm and through silence, I listen to all your great voices; And I'm waiting when you've passed all the paths In the field through our bright spikes, The end of the road to me atom hidden, To come to those classes: And you call me by my real name.
By Nikola Ilic3 years ago in Poets
To the surreal strength we hold
This is an ode to the might that we hold in our hearts to mellow through the banter of our strife. We are extraordinary species that surpass the wit and intelligence of any existing creature in the biotic ecosystem. Our minds are constantly evolving in every minuscular way to foretell the vision of tomorrow. Life is a monotonous series of exemplary events that forge their being in the mundanity of a day. Stirring with the hustle-bustle of every day becomes burdening when life shows how uncertain our mortality is and how placated we are in the hands of the unknown.
By Hridya Sharma3 years ago in Poets
No One
I do not scream or yelp I do not call out when injured Because I know There is no one here to help 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.
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
