Best Bare(A) Poems

I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl, 
And when I run -- I run like a...

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Inspired by Andrew Wyeth Watercolor Painting -- Wind From the Sea, 1947




Standing in the old house
A strange mixture of feelings erupt within me
My roommates Depression,...

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This is not a poem about a rose
Nor a poem about diligence and beauty
Today, I sit and stare at the walls
Walls    that...

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I relinquish my pen before the storm
of her tears falling upon my bare arm
her gentle whispering breathed in my ear
Muse of mine, adieu to your...

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you write your words and they make me cry
you write those word and you know i die
but i've died so often now

i held you in...

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I shiver tears.
My joie de vivre;
summer esprit’s lemon zest,
lilac flirts and coral whispers 
have escaped me ~
grievous gray 
now flows through my veins.

I shiver melancholia,
entombed...

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A Poet's Gift

A poet writes to share a secret depth 
Of feelings within their soulful breast.
They write to grasp onto immortality,
To be remembered beyond their...

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"What happens in the forest stays in the forest"

The trees are trimmed, 
The leaves on the ground 
Proposing passion, sweet mist
Naked with nothing to bare...

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O beguiling crimson Moon
Fiercely blazing for want of thee;
Descending beneath faltering clouds;
Leering wantonly;
And She:
Her coy distractions and brazen
Enchantments 
Laid bare and stripped rude...
Like the naked...

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It's like a black cloak around our world bringing misery and death
Virologists are saying " you ain't seen nothing yet" 
If only our leaders would...

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Our first awareness
      falling through time
      through blood-rain, pure white snow, green vegetation 
 ...

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I am the wind

You cannot see me but you can feel me

Breezing gently through your hair

Brushing slightly across your cheek

Whispering softly 'neath your ear

I am...

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https://soundcloud.com/kentucky-gal/2014-09-27-09-15-43717a

How sweet is the southern beauty of a country rose blossom today.
Soft scents that float gently on the breeze through trees that sway.

With bare feet...

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'Twas the night before Christmas and their pages were bare
  Not one word could they write, not one verse to declare
  The Grinch...

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O April
how I’ve longed for your return
to breathe new life 
into this gnarled body..
for these roots to be unfettered 
from the grasping earthen frost -...

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