Anvil Poems - Poems about Anvil

Under eighteen hot tears spilling nowhere near serene at the end of your rope cannot cope need fulfilling please don't mope there's always hope here's the dope find someone thrilling you can soft-soap who is willing and won't say 'Nope' to a clandestine marriage on the slippery slope of the blacksmith's anvil hire the carriage you prefer defer the billing and elope ...

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"In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous." Aristole Clouds, Drifting Gossamer, Amorphously Cumulonimbus Botryoidal changelings Bulbous body-building boils Robustly rising with swelled heads Bragging with bursts of thunderous joy Eager to display lightning anvil crowns...

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The Wordsmith's Anvil It starts as a tiny ember In my mind, heart and soul A single word or simple thought Synapses fire furiously Fanning it like a blacksmith's bellows Suddenly it is a roaring fire Brain now engulfed in the blaze I have to quench quickly Lest it consume me I plunge the raw metal into the inferno My pen hammers the blank The steel...

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The sun was down when the batwings swung An' Anvil Bob walked in. Bob's name came from the blacksmith trade He's stronger than strong men He was more than mad, he looked fierce, There was blood in his eye. "I'm lookin' for a tall stranger, That came here some time by. "Had his way with my young Sadie, And rode off into town. I...

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what was hammered out upon my stainless soul had the smith a purpose or was i forged without control, the fires that i cool from were hotter than just flame for they burned in desire so my temper might gain, then to the pure accepting water was i cast so long and deep as if...

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Love strikes Like a hammer On a silver anvil Your dark eyes Deep jewels of delight Inspiration to fashion From a precious heart Something magnificent As one with you...

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all my life i seek a truth in you the reply i get is an anvil to the skull banished from view, i begin a journey for a definition of self all the while i figured i could rid myself of all thoughts of you yet and still the planted seeds continue to bloom in my mind honestly, i guess...

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The anvil wallows on his heart His dreams, trodden, alas depart Pride triggers a cursory front The fierce justification hunt He steps to nowhere from the start...

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When the anvil falls The sky is broken Go tell the Blacksmith...

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There once was a blacksmith at Danville Who made so much noise on his anvil That the neighbors, one day, Quietly hauled it away, And bulldozed it into the landfill....

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