Best Dawdles Poems

Mosaics of orange and crimson
rot with the last migrating duck.
And barren soil, littered with death,
stripped of its grandeur, turns to muck.

Autumn dawdles well past its...

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An exuberant falcon she is, isn’t she? 
Being the aviator of my flight of thoughts.  
Cares less she to heed, whenever in adoration, I...

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On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity;
neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity,
as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man
asks her to dance, she...

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BELLS

I.

Bells has a tingling ring to it,
a jingledy-jangle silver tone.
The tympanic waltz, close knit —
angelic chorus of Christ’s throne.

And Winter parades its magic —
the pure...

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Written: September 11, 2023
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Don't fret, dear; let's wend off the strife,
Candor your winsome grace—embrace life.
With a smile—arouse your inner fire,
Ignite the magic; cater glamour to...

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In the taverna, he sits, incognito--- 
(he’s just 16) among them, the men of the past 
and dawdles over a bottle of beer, where he’s...

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Dedicated to a Nun that was raped by a Hindu gang in Orrisa in India.

Bondage dawdles but dauntless rambler.
Glimmers as goblin a goblet gambler.
A heartburn...

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The sun rose again today
Morning birds sang their song
The newspaper I still get
Was waiting on my lawn

The early morning dog walkers
Were giving Fido his exercise
My...

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Weebles wobble
   but they do fall down.

Once without windup whimsy weebles wobble writhing in wistful wiggly wattles,
they bubble, bobble, boggle, bottle and boondoggle...

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summer sleeping sun
wind dawdles over brown grass
cat dreams ignoring...

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It’s such a simple gesture that we show
to family and friends whene’er we meet;
a simple way to always let them know
we truly care to make...

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Most folks have experienced torturous problems along life's bourne.
Some brooked it with blissful grace, others with venomous scorn!
'Tis easy to be trapped in a seemingly...

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On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity;
neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity,
as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man
asks her to dance, she...

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Schuylkill Valley Encampment, February, 1778

Dearest Beloved,

This letter, penned with nature still enwrapped in winter’s shawl,
Might reach your hands by April, should it reach your hands...

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A chirp and a day dawns and dawdles
My eyes open to part take in its mystery
Oh, blessed me! Doomed to suffer in sorrow
Sin surrounds and...

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