Best Cold Feet Poems | Poetry

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New Cold Feet Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Cold Feet poems are below this new poems list.

Cold Feet for a Happy Presence by Payton, Normie
cold feet by hansen, jan oskar
Cold Feet by Aul, George
Cold Feet by Ogunfowokan, Kolawole
Cold Feet by McDermin, Michelle
Cold feet by Bee, Qui
~ (~) ~ Cold Feet and Misery ~ (~) ~ by Long, James
COLD-FEET! by Janvier, Arcene
Cold Feet by Roberts, Francine
Cold Feet by Souza, Wade

View all new Cold Feet Poems

The Best Cold Feet Poems

Details | Cold Feet Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Morning Pleasure

cat laying on top
dog sprawled across my cold feet
coffee tastes so good


Copyright © Rick Zablocki | Year Posted 2013


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Silent Thoughts make their jaws drop

Listen to poem:
I have no wings only cold feet of clay
And I'll never touch the farthest round sky
Days come quickly and pass along the way
Forgotten and silent, no one asks why
My dreams will never be rendered again
They all died in the hollow of my mind
As fragments dispersing from my dried skin
Tattered reminders that were left behind
I lay in blackest earth that I defend
Where darkness rules and only bones survive
While soil covering grows thick, I pretend
My bones are found, to show I was alive

  I'll dissolve, only time will oversee
  And lay silent still, remembering me


contest.. make their jaws drop


Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2016


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Merry Christmas

The cold feet of winter step slowly
past December’s green leaves and red berries
hung from window sills and door jams.
Brightly wrapped in silver shooting stars
tied tight with ribbons of challis and satin bows,
hope of tomorrow lies shining beneath sparkling
scenes of jolly smiling fantasies.
Past remembrance of happier times,
dreams lie untouched,
packaged in soft tissue and gentle smiles
against the breathy whispers of shortened days
and the dark of evening reverie.

Laughing fragrance of cinnamon, tickles
past iced fingers on frozen window panes
as the cider is heated, only to be left chilling, 
untouched, beside sweet wishes in sentimental ink,
filled with ephemeral thoughts of fictitious emotions
marking the passing of another day,
as if transcending all others, that like it, passes, sunrise to sunset, 
one turn of the earth, special only because it falls at this time of year.
A gentle brush of the hand against 
the worn wood of a varnished life 
sends a sparkle of glitter spilling from the torn seal,
cascading unnoticed to the cold floor.

Silence permeates the walls of this brightly adorned space.
Only the low volume of distant voices,
murmured from the flickering screen that sits alone
atop the meticulously cleaned table in the corner,
breaks the crystal glaze and thaws the solitude.
In each object on each table is revealed the joy that could be, 
the remembered smiles, the bright brown and blue glints of 
excited anticipation that fill the frames, 
and used to fill this room.
Time now broken, hands of the clock frozen,
I stare at the brightly glowing, twinkling lights,
as my liquid sorrow fills my unfocused eyes
and I soundlessly whisper a lonely, Merry Christmas.


12/06/17


Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2017


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Dry Ice Burns

Dry Ice Burns

Standing upon frozen pond
from beyond wishing for warmth
one to save this soul
beauty lured me there

My fingers frost bit
along with cold feet
How could I ?
What did I think to find?

Ice shown like diamonds
frozen with no heat
I seen it I knew it
false hope false feeling

Crack

Before my heart it reached
a sound i hoped for
thinking it my world
but no

Until I knew it was the
ice almost took my
my life 
almost froze my heart

Survival kicked in
Showing I'd win
how to engulf the cold
so as dry ice I let it burn



Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2018


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Rabbit DNA



Hare trigger instincts
always served Roger well
He had an oh, no-no lettuce nose — 
a hyper-keen sense   when to leave
Roger was rabbit good
at knowing when
to skip out    on his responsibilities  
  
Before bedtime stories
would end afoul, he could always tell
the impending sour cabbage signs — 
The ***** scent in the air   pregnant with crisis ... 
	rabbit feet had better odds,
		  	                 than a roll of the dices 

Women said he was a   tricky   daddy dodger,
his friends said it was in his DNA
The court affidavits said his name was Roger,
the summons said he wouldn’t pay

Those hare trigger instincts 
always served Roger well
Pearl hip handles, he loved to caress

Hop aboard a bullet train,
when the bad news got belly swell
Twitchy nose rabbit hole escape
	            was his poker face tell

But one determined Alice 
didn’t give 
the baby carrot    carriage subject a rest
Roger got tortoise marriage cold feet,
half-hearted turnip turtle vows
           was his delay strategy best guess 

Women said he was a tricky parent draft dodger,
his friends said it was in his rabbit DNA
The court affidavits all said his name was Roger,
the arrest warrant said he wouldn’t pay

Roger has good    long hare instincts,
he’s Copperfield cool ...   a Houdini Blondie
Angel Eyes bad   you better not blink,
every time your back is turned, he gon flee
So deadbeat ugly    he’s just a Tuco-hearted rat,
a kid welsher    ain’t no rabbit doubt about that

The rabbit in his blood, 
is simply hop-along      run away DNA
He love to cabbage patch play,
but he hate         to bacon lettuce pay

Women said he was a   tricky   daddy dodger,
his friends said it was in his DNA
The court affidavits said his name was Roger,
the summons said he wouldn’t pay

Roger don’t like 
looking at paternity suits,
it just give him the Dodger blues

Rabbits don’t care
to stay in one place too long ... 
in a standstill
That just ain’t how their feet DNA think

And those angry Alices         kangaroo purse pouches,
holding those court-ordered papers unfriendly ... 
they be pushing the Dodger to the brink
Roger’s an absentee parent wearing slipper slouches — 
Hopping-mad child support check is an empty
Cassidy signature signed in invisible ink 
 




Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018


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Marionette

Your crooked smile
A marionette with broken strings
So only one corner is pulled up

Save me from your eyes
Ruts in the road
Where all the good things pool that nobody sees

I’m drowning in the water
That’s only up to my ankles
I thought I was having fun on a rainy day
But I think I fell too hard

I can’t look away 
From this strange mess I’m in
Ankle puddles on rainy days
I have wet socks but that’s ok
You make my cold feet…
Disappear

I don’t want to sing in the rain
No… 
I want to scream
I want tears and rain to run into my mouth
A little salt brings out the sweetness 
Rescue me because I’m drowning

Look at your reflection one last time
Until it breaks
And you’re gasping for air
Come into the deep
I’m waiting

Are you afraid of sharks?
Know that they will smell the blood on my hands
I’m not who you think
I hope that's okay

On a rainy day
Will you be my umbrella?
Will you be my broken marionette?
With your crooked smile
And eyes I have to look away from

I’m not shy… 
I’m afraid of you

April 30th, 2018


Copyright © Rainy Sky | Year Posted 2018


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Winter

When snow starts falling in Canada 
We know winter games shall begin.
Do we just sit around fireplaces?
No, that would be a sin.
Snowball fights daily in our schoolyards,
Till the bell calls them in.

Rosie red cheeks on children,
Mittens with scarf’s and hats,
Snowmen in every front yard,
Put away are the bats.
Indoors a haven for cats.

Ski’s out and waxed,
Skates sharp as knives,
Skating rinks are full
Of children, husband, wives. 

Tobogganing so exiting,
Curling extremely fun,
Hockey, number one.

Cold feet,
Hot chocolate.

Winter.

10.14.2014
Andrea Dietrich’s Contest 
I do not Know
7th


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014


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Memory

Raging The sea moves rapidly, My mind does not Move at all, Gray feelers into the fog Through the mist beyond, Dew drops over my hands And onto my cold feet, Nothing equates as much As this view does, I harbor hate For her evil eyes, Piercing through the grey I don’t see anything But her trickery, And the blood rain Falls, Pools of it is near, But not on my dew drenched soul, I scream Loud echoes trouble me And she quibbles She quibbles Russell Sivey


Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2015


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My Sacrifice

There was one girl I loved and let slip away.
She called me up wanting to talk the other day.
We met up later that night.
She told me she wasn't feeling right.

I thought all my chances with her were buried.
She was now engaged to be married.
I don't know what to do I am getting cold feet.
My heart started to pound as I sat in my seat.

I said why do you feel like this?
Because there is someone out there I miss.
Well who is it and what are you going to do?
I don't know and the person is you.

The words I've waited to hear, like an angels hymn.
I asked about her fiance, if she was still happy being with him?
She said yes, he doesn't do anything wrong.
I looked at her and thought for a minute, but it felt so long.

I love her so much, to be with her I would swim the oceans.
Then I told her I would share my emotions. 
I told her I didn't feel the same way.
I told her she has a great life ahead of her and a great fiance.  

I said you are just nervous and everything will be fine.
I put her happiness ahead of mine. 
I loved her so much I would rather see her happy and not me this day.
She is already happy and who am I to take that away?

This is something I will never forget, 
and this is something I will never regret.  


Copyright © Chris Matt | Year Posted 2011


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Late Night Drivel

I had my 65th birthday on Monday.
Here are some things that were clarified for me by friends.
I hope it is a sign from God that I can still learn!

False, "erectile dysfunction" isn't a labor dispute at the 
new high rise they are building downtown.

False, a "persistent vegetative state" doesn't send
representatives to the U.S. Congress and the Senate, it
does however describe the U.S. Congress.

False, Dr. Neil Clark Warren doesn't have the answer to 
everyone's dating dilemma. He had a wonderful
transvestite, necrophiliac, faith-healer lined up for 
me, but I got cold feet...................Imagine.

True, the only media entity getting lower ratings 
than me and my poetry on PoetrySoup, is MSNBC.

False, Chevy Chase isn't one of the tracks they visit
on NASCAR's Sprint Cup Series.

False, we don't subscribe to the theory that premarital sex
will make you go blind. At my age, it is called "Pre-
Interment-Sex" and I wear bifocals already, anyway.

True, I was really feeling a little low about turning 65
and all, but then I saw Hillary Rodham Clinton on the
tube. Now, I feel like the King of the World!

True, there will never be a clear winner in the battle of the sexes.

True, if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed
this morning, you still "woke up." Be happy!

True, I will never write any of this opinionated drivel
on PoetrySoup again for fear I get banned. If you 
believe that................

Happy April Fools Day Soupers, don't take ya-self too serious



Copyright © Brian Baumgarn | Year Posted 2015


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FEET

FEET

When I hear the tick, the gong
Too long?
Too short?
I mumble, “Too damn long!”

Cold feet, raw,
How they poke out
And not enough blood to withdraw

Hah! A marathon,
Kick the can, the dog, the football,
90 yard run!

They were always too big, with moles,
Too clumsy, too heavy,
In the 30s, that fat kid with paste-on, rubber soles

Wouldn’t it be just too intense – 
Toe jam and all –
If they were the last thing sensed?

Dave Austin






Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2014


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- Out with the King - In with the Queen -


                          Looking for signs of spring, but can not find
                               It is just white snow and frozen ice 
                      Cold feet, red cheeks, hat, gloves and wool socks
                           I wrap me in, to protect me from the cold
                     Dreaming of spring, sun that can warm my cheek
                       Dear King winter, it's time for the Queen spring

  


30.01.2013
A-L  Andresen :)


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013


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Body Talk

BODY TALK
~~~~~~~

Suck thumb
Act dumb

Wide eyes
Look wise

Wise friend
Old hand

She lied
Hands tied

So cheap
Skin deep

Big nose
Smells rose

Sad pup
Chin up

Nice pair
Eyes stare

Felt heat
Cold feet

No buts
Have guts

Learn part
By heart

Young bride
Tongue-tied

No gown
Hair down

Like spout
Lips pout

------------------------------------------

Contest: Five Fabulous Funny Footles
Sponsor: Jan Allison
7th June 2015
Placed 1st


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015


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In Love- our story for contest

    In Love- Our story ( a sort of Sonnet)

 

That first day in the factory, your eye
had followed me as down the aisle I passed
still lingered moments after I'd gone by,
you vowed then that glance would not be your last.
Your girl's intelligence network gave chase
to find the whys and wherefores, who I be,
get answers and a name put to the face
returning with results by morning tea.
The first dates nothing sparked, no hearts ablaze
just questions, feelers, finding common ground,
our differences plain in many ways,
yet all it took was one bond to be found

So thus by circumstance and stars were formed
the elements that melded our love's dawn.

As time and youth faced off and called 'en garde'
anger and vicious words both took the field
our tempers raged, a truce was just too hard,
for neither would our stubborn ground we yield .
But from within that fierce intensity,
the furnace stoked by every spat and fight
also came passion tempered then set free
desire burned as cressets in our nights.
Our opportunities, though all too rare,
snatched moments, any time in any place,
as if the world had run and left us there
and gave our battered hearts some breathing space.

The light from our love's morning showed the fact
the truth that often opposites attract.

That first midnight cry from the newborn child,
your head fell back, relieved from hours of pain,
eyes closed briefly and then you looked and smiled
“ I'm never bloody doing that again”.
The polar opposites that since we met
both held us and repelled us, yin and yang,
now by this nascent soul, the future let
love tear them all asunder, left to hang.
The baby, girl, teenager, woman grew,
tended by us, fed food and word and song,
full fledged in mind and body, off she flew,
the two of us now left to get along.

Without her we'd have gone separate ways
new bonds now bind us both through our love's days

We sit, you knit, I frown and chew a pen
the crossword finished, turn another page,
adjacent chairs from six, in bed by ten,
routine crept in unnoticed with our age.
Wordless orders given, the curtains drawn,
leave mugs in sink, TV to standby mode,
abandoned, cat looks up at us, forlorn
then out the door it hurtles up the road.
For thirty years of love have come to this,
two tired bodies snuggle, conserve heat,
our silent breathing pauses for one kiss,
a gasp as my warm back receives cold feet

When two people know everything's alright
then let the sun go down on their love's night

1st February 2016
For contest 'Our year in love' by Olive Eloisa Guillermo


Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016


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Unpredictable Morning

The morning sun falls
Noises awake, passing crowds
once quiet again

Stand on the cold feet
Dew still not fade by the lights
Sipping my hot tea

Rectangle door closed
The framework offers the view
My sight clustered straight

Enjoyed the greenish
While the sun turns into gloom
It's ready to rain


Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2013


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Thanks Mother

I had a mother once, twice, a third would be too much.
A sickly mother with her hands all shriveled, and feet cold.
The fingers were long and the wrists were swollen.
The nails on her, hmmm, not sure.  But they were there.
Oh, the layers, after layers, many layers shaping many forms.
My head is spinning!
Is that coffee or tea?  I asked.
   "No, it's coffee." Someone mentioned from a very far distant. (mother)
"Oh" I responded, to myself, of course.
    The days are nice when I can go outside and take a walk.
The swollen wrists, and um those cold feet, shh, the nails, on her_.
             How does a rabbit catch A, 
             a rabbit doesn't, but a squirrel could.  
A split at the end with no remorse, has its toll on due course.
 Say goodbye mother, until, the rainbow changes its shape. 
On the horizon, where summer beaches meet the people half-way.
Did I forget to say, thank you,
never!  
I thank you mother and I thank you, I THANK YOU (close the book)
The End (take a bow)


Copyright © Brigett Hurley | Year Posted 2013


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The Hospice Shop

An icy wind blows,
Freezing winter snows.
Icicles hanging from trees,
Like jewels in a wintry breeze.

Cold hands, cold feet,
Hail, turning to sleet.
The sun now shines bright,
But the cold beckons an icy night.

No tables outside the shop today,
Come inside the assistants say.
We have hot tea, coffee and cake,
Please buy from us for the Hospice sake.

Come in, browse, and pass the day,
Maybe buy a coat, keep the chill away.
Sit at a table and drink your fill,
Warm and safe from the winters chill.

Take a look at our books, we have many in stock,
If you don't want a book, you can buy a clock.
The choice is yours, there is no pressure,
Come in and chat, browse at your leisure.

The staff at the shop are volunteers all,
They give up their time to answer the call.
The money you give this day will be well spent,
To build the Hospice with every cent.

Soon the time will come when the doors will open,
To welcome it's clients both young and old.
When the hospitals have done their best,
The Hospice staff will do the rest.

It is only with help from people like you,
The money you give for that coat, shirt or brew.
The staff at the shop have nothing to gain,
The money donated helps relieve so much pain.

Please visit us whenever you can,
With God's help we will fulfil this plan.

I wrote this on a rare wintry day in Paphos, Cyprus. 
Where I work in our Hospice shop.

© Dave Timperley 2012





Copyright © Dave Timperley | Year Posted 2012


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Breaking Through

I drifted to this place	 
When might I drift away?			
Am lost in time and space		
Cold feet encased in clay		

Afraid.  I am offbeat			
Next year I will as well		
Shamefully repeat			
Tucked inside my shell			

Are false masks better than		
The fear I have no face?		
Why not be a real man		
Contempt for this disgrace		

The others seem together		
My disappointed self			
Chafes against the leather		
Of life upon a shelf			

The hourglass is filling		
Sitting here regretting		
I make no progress chilling		
My purposeless upsetting		

False Christian and false doctor	
Puzzled father, baffled mate		
Away with all the awkward		
Before it’s just too late		


Fastened here so tightly		
Accurate? Or no?			
Why not live more rightly?		
Who has shown me so?		

And bathroom glass reveals		
My fortune’s lonesome actor			
No alibi conceals			
No outside minds a factor		


Searing streak of insight		
It’s I.  I see that now			
Knot inside my windpipe		
And sweat upon my brow		


The phantoms hang around		
For my eyes lone to see		
Cant seem to shut them down	
Should I just leave them be?		

I crave for life to change		
But what is it I do?			
Will others find it strange 		
To live with someone new		

Stinking, stagnate coward!		
Seek no outside forces!		
My weaknesses they tower		
Sturdy as wild horses		


Perhaps best not to glance		
Sure not a pretty sight		
For once my courage stands		
I will .  With all my might		

I hold fast to my ground		
What ground is it I seek?		
Today it shall be found		
But not amongst the weak		

To love and feel essential		
Control , companionship		
To fill up my potential		
To bareness shall I strip		

I steel my face with sternness	
I will retreat no more		
And now with manly firmness	
I free my limited self			


Copyright © John Pettinger | Year Posted 2014


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On

Out of the blue it dawned on me
he really meant it when he said
"all the world's a stage."
We play around our little parts
some parrot all their lines away
some get cold feet and then they run.
and there are those who madly stick
around and put their hearts to it
making their own lines as they play.

Across the Globe everyone's giving
their own special minute performance,
the world's a stage
the stage means merely
you're not the only star out there
neither the shiniest for that matter.

The stage exists there to remind you
everyone laughs, loves, cries and ponders
everyone lives and plays and wonders.
There's One who attends every performance,
Who's critic, audience and director.
Step up and well your lines deliver
and you will hear Him clap and shiver.





Copyright © Archontoula Alexandropoulou | Year Posted 2013


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Submerged

Of all the thoughts
man's mind was
equipped to have:

the envious
the murderous
the suicidal
the joyous
the inexplicable

none come quite as dangerous as the
thoughts he gets in the shower. 

they make reality drizzle
on his cold feet
and wet his hair
with possibility

as loneliness reeks 
fresh through 
shampoo bottles

these thoughts they
put him back in his
baby-shell.

they seep through,
consuming...
lingering...
uninterrupted- 
by the water that never runs out.


Copyright © Maya Kaabour | Year Posted 2011


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Left At The Altar - March of the Footle

"Left At The Altar"


Groom heat
Cold feet

Kill fear
Drank beer

Drunk fell
Deep well


3/9/2016



 


Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016


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JUST KISS ME QUICK






So many crumpled letters, and I still can’t exactly say How my heart crawls for you as toes knot cold feet, Oh Sammy, will you ever guess what stuns my joy When we lie on dim parks till all fireflies trill the night? But we’re kind of best friends giggling in the sand Flowers sent with buddy notes, the tummy spins As hands freeze when you ruffle my wind-blown hair; How I wish my words can fly, “come, kiss me quick!” The moonlight whispers our names with burnt desire Igniting wishful dreams when eyes meet skin to skin So kiss me quick, baby, our theme song plays along, Yearning to unleash sweet flame in a dance of bliss; And here I am, right under your hot, hot breath With citrusy scent that may give you some hint, Hoping you'd taste my lips in a rush of love's ride Or my mouth might kiss you quick, just out of the blue! *kiss me quick The KISSING GAME CONTEST of PD By nette onclaud


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2012


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Give Me Courage The Great War

Sitting and waiting for the whistle to blow again twice in just one day,
I sat and watched the various signs, the returning spring across fields,
In a copse there was a wood lark singing also in the copse a sniper waiting,
Tom **** hung off a house that stood in ruins as shells fly so will they.

A wet face of fear and rain droplets fell into my thick very wet great coat,
Dreading running across ruined fields, charred oak trees, rifles spit at me,
For now I will listen to the peace the loud harsh voice of the missal-thrush,
A man lies near me, so still I kicked him, the heap of bloody rags was silent.

Men walked along the trenches they needed to do something stamping cold feet,
Sitting in the iron depths of winter trying to have faith, hope in my iced heart,
Ears burn in the ceaseless icy east winds it blows so cold, I am so very scared,
There is only a few things we can be sure of that is rain, cold and snow storms.

There is a load bang and sound of speed in the wind a shell falls but it is short,
Bullets fired the tracers are like fireworks they glow as they flash past or over,
Snow falls heavily and the ripped fields of no mans land begins to turn mud white,
If the whistle blows for us to attack we will stand out like silhouettes on paper.

My mouth was so dry I kept on drinking water but each time I dank the thirst returned,
The clothes I wore have not been changed for nearly six months coldness killed ticks,
Noise of the shelling and rifle fire made me feel sick my stomach full of butterfly's
My hands begin to shake uncontrollably as I try to light a cigarette the match is wet.

The whistle blows in frightened confusion we are told to push on and leave the trench,
Officers with guns wait to shoot anybody that does not charge and join the slaughter,
I stand in a snow white field as a black figure on a white background this is my day,
Men wounded, many crying this is so wrong, a bullet hits my head I fall into blackness.


Copyright © Terry Trainor | Year Posted 2015


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Idyll of Daybreak Lake


Dreaming of idyllic forms
Puzzle pieces mold as one
Imaginary lines unrooted
Petty pebbles sink in twilight
Then suddenly I’m awake
Laying here at daybreak lake.

Early enough to see the dew
Abreast my cold feet wading
I watch ripples promptly cease
As new ones dawn the trip
A cycle our lives can relate
Halcyonic touch of daybreak lake.

Morning glory’s violets bloom
Across the rivers foothill edging 
Streams aroma guides my pining
To faded footprints of my youth
Where aspen branches quake
Sunny haze at daybreak lake.

Minds heavy winds thudding
Worldly pebbles wash ashore
Submerging pleasant dreams 
That wake ideals from slumber
While my heart's eye aches
Reflecting late at daybreak lake.


Copyright © Nicholas Rush | Year Posted 2015


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Wiennie Humor

My wiennie dog jumped in my lap with cold feet....

I said, You're a cold chilli dog!!

WOOF!!


Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2011