My #2 yellow pencil always with me, graphite at the ready. Bright useful tool in school pencil boxes, erasers often worn.
By Barbara Gode Wiles2 years ago in Poets
In the realm of time's ballet, Nature's dancers take their play, A waltz of seasons, swift and slow, A timeless rhythm, to and fro.
By NAVIN S B.Com.,2 years ago in Poets
In the heat of summer days like these, up to 102 overwhelming degrees (ugh.)... It's you who looks out for, and takes care of me:
By Tressa Rose2 years ago in Poets
Stacked high above the faucet now the dishes, cups, and plates somehow Are teetering again about to fall. My tired eyes start wandering
By Harrison Hickok2 years ago in Poets
Sitting here Looking at your picture Thinking of all we had Remembering how I told you I wanted nothing more than to be a dad
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
READING, HEATWAVES AND HURRICANES I’ll admit he’s not much of a reader. He’d much rather work in the yard.
By Margaret Brennan2 years ago in Poets
There was a time, that we were parted, I'd leave you on the wall, at home. But these days, you're highly regarded, it's near neglect, to leave you alone.
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
When I was a sophomore in high school, one of our teachers was totally hooked on poetry. She’d often hand each one of us a piece of paper with one word written on it.
'Tis midnight, and the frantic scribbles Whirl around my brain, I cannot sleep while phrases dribble - Don't wanna rhyme with pain!
By Meredith Harmon2 years ago in Poets
Come to me, my dear Thesaurus, Valued as if thou were aurous, Bless me with the words I seek To make my narrative less bleak!
By Dana Crandell2 years ago in Poets
Without you, my feet feel gigantic, Their size, perhaps the Atlantic. I push and pull and twist them and still They refuse to go in - so I’m frantic.
By Joe Luca2 years ago in Poets
To thee my friend, my spud Born of dirt and mud Whether mashed or fried, Au gratin or pied My joy, alas, I can’t hide.
