Best Cobblestoned Poems

At the flower market
I found spice, holy water,
cobblestoned obsidian dreams,
but no flowers.

The blustery Tuscany day
showed me its underlying graffiti,
incantations of poetica esoterica, 
and yet another...

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A wildflower grows on the cobblestoned streets of this dingy town,
Among the dirt and debris left behind by the seasons.
A misplaced beauty working her way...

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How far from nature and life it is
the gray clouds, airplanes in them
the night cooing and pigeons roosting
Sirma's garden gone to roses and seed

                        That airplane...

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A littered path of dreams that lay broken.
Humbled desires strewn over this road.
These are the sorrows that need to be spoken.
This is the bearing of...

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The dam broke in Quebec.
My thoughts,
my words, 
and my pen
all moved.
Moved like the thin layer 
of brackish water
over the icy depths
of le Fleave St. Laurent.
Moved...

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Trickling water streams,
Flowing waves of soothing peace;
Cobblestoned bottom....

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There's a castle in Duluth
Made out of sugar cubes

And the moat that flows out front
Is filled with soda pop

Fruit that grows on trees 
Is the...

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Take me back in time
Open my timeless capsule
of your soul

Walk down my cobblestoned
path decorated with all the memories
that made our hearts warm

Once again the starlights...

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THE RUIN 
an Old English poem about fate & destiny
modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

well-hewn was this wall-stone, till Wyrdes wrecked it
and the Colossus...

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Gray mist mingles with tears sired in grief
My cold skin streaked by the hushed warmth of sorrow
Broken morning wooing my pain
Withered leaves once the color...

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The day of reckoning 

A bird with an enormous wingspan darkened the sky
it was a night of horror in the Middle East.
A new country born...

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They wend their way through Sunshine City
Cobblestoned, sloped, and Old World pretty;
And lined with colorful, homes in glad unity,
Streets linked heart to heart, in deep...

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It is cold tonight, the winds fingers have 
ice on their tips. They run down your cheek
and arrest the colour, leaving them pale, 
pale as...

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It started with a blank canvas when I was twelve.
I started seeing this vision and I knew it was not a dream
for I always saw...

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