vintage

Vintage poetry stands the test of time; collections and anthologies of classic poems and enduring verses from eras past.

**Out of Focus**
In the blur of distant dreams, Where edges fade to whispers, A world half-seen, half-felt, Like shadows in the dawn.
By Abbasabout a year ago in Poets
**Inner Voices**
Whispers in the quiet dark, Where shadows bend and break, A chorus of the hidden self, With truths we dare not wake.
By Abbasabout a year ago in Poets
**Spilt Milk**
A glass tipped, a river flows, Milk cascading, pure as snow, A moment's slip, a fleeting fall, And all that's left is what we know.
By Abbasabout a year ago in Poets
A cape on my back
a cape on my back protectively honoured a hope in my heart that awaits with beats of reward Genuinely kind Previously king
By Karun about a year ago in Poets
The Radio sorcerer
In the twilight's embrace, the frequencies play A cosmic dance, the universe grants. a together magic, at the close of day.
By Karun about a year ago in Poets
Money
Trying to collect money Is like trying to catch sand The more you have The less it fits in your hand There will never be enough time to collect it all
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
RED EYE
In the white sky it is a blue moon it will turn red soon Glaring at it a red eye July passed by june august is peeping the sky
By Karun about a year ago in Poets
Appearances can be Deceiving
Beneath the surface, lies a guise, A veil that hides, a false disguise. What seems so bright may cast a shade,
By Abbasabout a year ago in Poets
Bad Luck
In shadows cast by fortune’s fickle hand, Where hopes dissolve like grains of shifting sand, I walked the path where dreams lay in decay,
By Abbasabout a year ago in Poets
Her Adoration of Toile de Jouy
In a world of patterns, she found her delight, A love for Toile de Jouy, shining so bright. With its intricate scenes, so gracefully drawn,
By Solomon Walkerabout a year ago in Poets
Where the Treasure Clings
My mind feels like a ship on a sea, always moving, sailing somewhere, maybe towards a storm, maybe towards solace. The masts are strong but they are starting to get more tattered with age, rage and vulnerabilities. How much longer? How much longer? Will I sleep in a ship port of peace with other ships that just rest there? The ship bottom is plastered in barnacles and old hopes that were hidden like treasure on the ship. You mean to tell me that the treasure wasn’t at the bottom of the sea tucked away in a chest, but the treasure was attached to the bottom of me?
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
**Come and Go**
In the gentle ebb and flow of time, Moments drift like fleeting rhyme, A dance of change, wild and free. Laughter fades and tears may fall,
By Abbasabout a year ago in Poets