Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
When the streets were lined With electrical wires And papa was here. *** I heard these whispers From my own papa today
By KB3 years ago in Poets
The capsule of time, A link to a bygone prime, A precious keepsake.
By Sergio VanNess3 years ago in Poets
Sealed in earth's embrace, A time capsule's resting place, Memories to retrace.
Memories reborn, A time capsule's hidden gems, Waiting to be worn.
Memories trapped in, A time capsule's timelessness, A treasure within.
A window to time, A time capsule's precious gift, Memories that shine.
Capsule of hope, Memories preserved for us, A future to cope.
A time traveler, A capsule journeying through, Moments to discover.
Seasons may pass by, But a time capsule holds on, Memories never die.
A window through time, A time capsule's delicate, Memories sublime.
The past may be gone, But a time capsule remains, Memories live on.
Years pass, seasons change, But within the capsule's range, Memories remain.
