Best Etch Poems

listen,
the whispers
of leaves
turn colour
autumn is here.

now that you are gone
who will wake every morn
to lift the sun
unveil the sky
etch in the clouds
who will paint the...

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if my love for you was any greater
the trees would  line up in poetic forms
...awe you in sonnets written...
...part...to allow winds to cool your...

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In vertigo of night, in their riddled trance 
Boldness of petals melt on washed-out shades,
As faces etch a quiet gloom in varied hues
Capturing splashed oil,...

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Take me to the place where the aromatic fragrance
threatens to envelop our obelisks glorifying death;
to the place where the seraphim of old long to steal...

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Write !


Some madness banter of insanity
is pulling at my thoughts
spilling effulgent
in giant verbs and huge marching nouns
collecting snippets as it walks
stomping on flowers
and mushing liquid...

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With my brightened lens, I watch you
mystically zooming in     zooming out,
and my eyes focus on the shutter where
 a hundred gulls...

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Standing all alone in the woods;
eyes shut, I feel the lilting light.
Sun dodges needles through the crown,
beams land on my skin softly so.
Brisk breezes quicken...

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Midst the dark of night, 
neath the veil of moonlight, 
I'll wait for you,
my eyes never losing sight of your face, 
always in touch with...

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Shawled against 
the damp night chill,
she waits
slumped low, 
crumbled
in her favorite chair.
Old and tired 
she waits.
Eyes, once bright, 
cast a milky stare 
blind to all...

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Artist



Color me naked with your sighs
Scribble me stripped
Stabbed 
Slashed
Stippled on your skin

Paint me black
Seething in charcoal amber
Writhing in lines
The brush strokes of your tongue
Beseech

Craft me...

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if our story ends
as all stories must
i’d want to
remember
each chapter
unfolding
as i sift through
the pages of
memories past

see fate's
written word
scribe how
we first met
recollect
sunnier times
treasured within
hear in my...

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No– shadows do not love
the angles of your face.
Reflection in a cage;
the mirror— enemy
in atmosphere of age,

no.. shadows do not love
the smoother skin of youth.
Your...

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The candle burns down long into the night
Its life waning in a flickering flame
As I etch these ink stains of black on white
On pages that...

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WHEN TEARS TOUCH

The twelfth of November reminds me of the day            
when our paths...

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Beautiful, burnished, brilliant
Yet, my ink friendly inclinations produce a chemical discrepancy
And now, you come – Artist
Scratching, on my polished mental plate
Do not blacken me with...

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