Mid August poem! NEW THEME!
The first Theme, Old Ford Truck went really great! thanks to those who posted! Keep doin what you do! You know, you can help spread the word about this blog! click on the share options at the bottom of this post and tell your friends!The new Poetry Theme is:A BREEZENow, get to writing!writing tip: It's best if you write the poem elswhere then paste it on the comment form. like that, your poem is not influenced by any of the already posted one....just a lil input.
cheers, -ThE poEtS
Blowing softly through the trees
ReplyDeleteWhistling my favorite song
Flies the early summer breeze
Bades me join and sing along
Lilting laugh against the blue
Pressing kisses to my face
Time is ageless, says the youth
Dance with me as eagle's grace
Mournfully she blows at night
Howling through my old oak door
As though chased by every fright
Dusk itself roams this strange moor
Joy, the morning sun, will rise
Calmly again she may sweep
Dry the droplets dew has cried
Solace be the summer breeze
If there was a breeze out
ReplyDeleteI'd grab my blue boat
Hoist that dusty ol' sail
And go for a float
I'd take me some lem'nade
A peach and a pie
Forget about the world
I'd wave it all goodbye
Just my boat and I
Alone out at sea
We'd chase that horizon
Feeling wild and free
If the sails fill with wind
And we'd threaten to fly
We'd race with the dolphins
'till the sun meets the sky
So come, sweet breeze
And take me away
To where dreams come true
Oh come soon, I pray
Why did my heart just jump up so happy?
ReplyDeleteYour fond eyes sparkled when you walked passed me,
The site out my window looks more like a dream,
From the wooden window sill to the dew on the seam,
Doors opened before me, now I could dare say,
It must be the breeze that’s blowing today,
Come with me down where the grass is still wet,
The flowers sing melodies like they have not yet,
Let us run up to where trees sing their songs,
A fragrant sweet ode, oh it’s been so long,
Why is this so like a fairy tale play?
It must be the breeze that’s blowing today,
One day ago this front porch was lonely.
The rocking chairs hard, unwelcome, unkindly,
But now each cedar log and tin feels like jewel,
Sit here right by me, on this wooden stool,
Now I want to laugh and sing, but why?
It must be the breeze that filled up the sky.