Bagatelle Poems - Poems about Bagatelle

Bagatelle You see the old olive tree  at the entrance of the village take it for granted until you see the tree is dying still, it has about it a non-communicative dignity an acceptance of life`s unplanned cosmic shortness. Dying slowly, a  botanist is trying new soil around  to get more mileage, but in the plant is too old, cow dung...

Continue reading...

If it lasts it must be good or is it just a bagatelle? Mountain tops inspiring cryptic lines that vanish in some moth infested haze, Boulevards beloved of budding artists whose mocha fueled creations stray off point, Mother Earth obsessives as they press their rosy vision into silver clay mosaics, tune smiths in a dither over windy...

Continue reading...

i'm Irish but mine aren't uilleann having no bellows but having to blow me up licking her lips she took shaft in hand and began playing me at first a simple moaning drone came from me then delicately she started to finger notes coming from me in an orgasmic sound the highlands resounded in murmmering music but today she also had a little death when she saw me i had shaved and so unzipped she found a naked bagatelle...

Continue reading...

A Flying Bagatelle Through the open door come flying a sparrow grey of no distinction it sat on the printer looked at me quizzically the phone rang startled it flew to the window caught in the curtains I got it lose carried the bird to the door let it go that was all no epiphany nothing mystical just a bewildered bird a ringing phone and a...

Continue reading...

Bagatelle You see a thing like the old olive tree At the entrance of the village and take it for granted Until you suddenly see the tree is dying Yet, it has about it a none communitive dignity And acceptance that life`s unplanned cosmic shortness. Dying slowly, the medical profession are trying To get more mileage but in the end the car...

Continue reading...

During the teadance- she trifled with his affections for trinket...

Continue reading...