gray is the day / icey barren fingers / ache to touch the sun / shadows quiver / from work undone / breathless winds hover / reticent to blow ...
the wind cradled me / like a child in its mother’s womb / there was a bright light / and i was guided by the moon / the stars giggled / as th…
As she lifts her head, / to bow again, / she whispers love, / that morbid thing,
As I lay on the hospital bed today after my surgery, I glanced out the window and saw this tree by it’s lonesome just swaying with the wind and it inspired me to write this… / hope yous like this.
Long years ago / you were born, / From a seed / Deep in the ground. / / You grew and stretched. / Your head rose / Above the others, / Until yo…
Inspired by Simon Gladwin’s Twisted Sister / / © photogenique (dave peddie): using this writing for any purpose and in any way, without prior permission, may lead to legal action. / / please visit Warren Willams and check out his art / / / /
The Wind is He, The Tree is She… / What a moving sight to behold. / To see them dance in reckless abandon… / As though this is all that…
Just sitting out on the river, watching the wind dance with a tree…so romantic :O) / I need a hobby huh?...lol
Branches bend and flex…bark exposed, naked, bashfully unashamed, revealing her secrets to the Universe.. ..
Another of my top favourites. I just scribbled this down one day, but only when I came back to it months later did I realize just how tru…
Another of my top favourites. I just scribbled this down one day, but only when I came back to it months later did I realize just how true it is for me. Please do not print or repost this poem anywhere without my permission. This poem is from my book, Heaven’s Champagne. / Order from Amazon.com
Through the narrow space between the leaves, / A tiny yellow butterfly can be seen / Dancing, flowing here and there casually / In the fores…
this was something i wrote in a park, a couple of months ago.
God speaks to us all he say’s See the children playing and laughing in the field see the smiles on there faces.feel how it makes you …
i was up last night couldent sleep 1 am i got out of my bed with words in my head i feel these are words from God. God was speaking threw me and wanted me to share this with you all henc the name God speaks
A classic haiku. / The first line came to me on a beautiful, warm spring day as the breeze fluttered through my open window. I wanted to make it into a poem, but I couldn’t get past the third line. / Then I read a story (required reading for my American Lit class, lol) where the main character’s mother wrote haiku for a Japanese-American newspaper. And I remembered: haikus are only 3 lines, and were 5, 7, 5. I counted the syllables in the lines I had. It was perfect. I usually prefer to write unorthodox things in an orthodox fashion, but this one fits into the category of “haiku” perfectly. The syllables are all correct, and it’s about weather. lol
Every gentle breeze that brushes your cheek… / Every Songbird’s beautiful melody…
I have written short verse for many years for greeting cards, calendars and gift books. This has been a favorite for many people. We all need love.
I watch the tree fiercely sway in the shadows of the night / I hear its rustling leaves brushing each other / I step closer to feel the win…
Some trial come into our live like a hurricane that up roots trees /
The soothing wind / Of August twilight / Caresses our skin / Licks our wounds / Dances upon us / As we roam in bliss / Smile / Rejoice / Revel
The tree was like the village down the valley, it had not always been as it was now.
The simple story of a little tree. It is dedicated to Anais
saw His Love, He endured the pain. / I look at the forest, from there came the tree / I saw a dark grey sky, I saw His “tree”
Inspired by Papadad’s “What do you see”
The trees spoke to me again…..
This was the poetry that I wrote about an historical wind storm that decimated my small town. I used it as a prologue for some grant applications for a public art project related to the storm. I got both grants.
Have you ever looked at a tree? / Not just look at it, but really look, / Watching the leaves as they flow and flutter / Gently in the breeze.
I was talking to myself on a particularly breezy day watching the leaves of a tree, then told myself a story.
Light-catchers flutter, soaking Sun and it’s rays. / Drinking Light, clean and bright, offered during the days
Pick a subject then write a poem about it. But you can’t use the actual word of that subject in the poem, except for the title. It’s a fun mind bender.
I wonder what it looks like, / this forest that is too far in the distance / to distinguish the shape leaf or / number of trees. I wonder w…
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