Best Hitches Poems
The river travels;
It’s path the same but no stops,
Are ever allowed.
It has a strict time table,
As it tours the entire world.
At times, it joins friends;
Lakes, streams, ocean; it hitches
A ride with them and
Then leaving them behind it,
Returns back home graciously.
What it’s collected
On its world travels, it won’t
Reveal; it has its
Secrets and treasures, very
Personal, private in safe.
Categories:
hitches, appreciation, earth, environment, imagery,
Form:
Tanka
Somewhere in a rugged sunny terrain
a bushy-maned pony kicks up his heels
amid biting flies in a grueling summer heat.
An elegant cattle egret hitches a ride.
Devouring grassland insects, his daily diet,
the egret helps his buddy in his plight
keeping the flies at bay while loping along
together through brush and grass and sage.
Categories:
hitches, animal, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
Stan the Snail even has his own coloring book at https://www.amazon.com/Stan-Busy-Snail-Gail-DeBole/dp/B09MDVQLTR!
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Poem written by Gail DeBole on 4/30/2013 and updated on 10/2/2018
Transit System
The underside of a gutter guard
Moved for mowing...
Destination - 7 feet away from home.
Stan the snail hitches a ride.
Amusement Park Ride
Clinging to the garage door
As it moves upward.
Clinging to the garage door
As it moves downward.
Stan the snail waits for a second ride.
Dangerous Adventure
Secretly hanging off the boy's pant leg.
Stan ends up in a heap of dirty clothing.
Targeted for the deadly washing machine.
Stan the snail crawls away from a poisonous death.
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Related Poems
Stan the Snail's Haiku
Stan the Snail's To Do List
Stan the Snail's Bucket List - First Item
Categories:
hitches, animal, nature, spring,
Form:
Standing at the crossroads of life
I wonder which path I will take
The one that makes life easy
Or the one to happiness.
The easy path will take me to
A life of ease and riches
Where work conditions are perfect
Making life go without hitches
The path to happiness is paved
With heartache along the way
But when you get to the end of the journey
Your heart with be wanting to stay
So i stand and wonder And wait
Knowing that i will be shown the way
The path to easy living
Is to work in a hospital near by
Have satisfaction in my work
But I would be living a lie
The path that leads to happiness
Will take me far away, to a poor country
Where the women need my help as a midwife
Where many babies an mums now die
I will run the gauntlet of many men
Who class women as lower than cattle
Not having help in an way so they die
I know i will have to battle.
To set up a clinic where i can help
Give advice on keeping things clean
Helping the health of the starving
Showing where to begin.
Be their midwife when needed
For now so many more die than live
When complications arise
But with help from above they'll survive
My head and heart are in conflict
My family say don't depart
But I have to live with my self
Follow whats in my heart
So I have bought a ticket
To foreign soil i must go
If i only help just a few
I will have tried thats all I know.
Seren Roberts
Categories:
hitches, hope, life, life, heart,
Form:
Light Verse
A young lady from Athens,
Had strong designer passions,
She developed a boutique
Just for the chic,
Full of exquisite fashions.
The opening without any hitches,
She had created marketing riches,
But it literally all fell apart
Within the year's start,
As she continually dropped her stitches.
Categories:
hitches, funny,
Form:
Limerick
I once met a toad who thought he was man
Now that fairy tale I can understand
I heard of a man who thought he was toad
Now really, such high sights he might implode
Man or Toad, his brain is fuzzy
He doesn’t grasp metaphoric or funny
He trolls and thinks he’s something else
Sure, most think he’s a prancing elf
With his book of grammar and holy words
Off he goes to his unpublished world
Notes
As some of you have seen, I seem to have a cyber bully/troll whatever you call them, after me. It’s both sad and serves no purpose, however he seems bent on telling deceptions and lies, and whether this is lack of education or knowledge, or he lacks the subtle nuances of the English language it matters not. I actually don’t mind but his actions however they are repeated many times on others. That a grown man over fifty acts this way is both amusing and somewhat sad. Actually very very sad.
The utmost irony is when you see a master troll writing poems about himself. I would hope one day he focuses more on his own self improvement. That anyone hitches their wagon to his sad tail is also truly sad, there is simply too much positive in this world to bother with Trumpites like him
Categories:
hitches, anti bullying, bible, christian,
Form:
Free verse
A young girl craving for adventure;
dreams of life in faraway places.
And listens for whispers in the wind;
matching sounds with customs and faces.
She meditates on the beach at dusk,
watching sunbeams gild a golden sea.
And as Night's shadow envelops her,
her inquisitive spirit feels free.
She indulges in fantasy dreams;
by loosening reality's grip.
And willingly bids the truth adieu;
when imagination books her trip.
This girl with the heart of a dreamer;
hitches a ride on a shooting star.
And to return home, she has but to
open her eyes; home is never far.
Categories:
hitches, beautiful, fantasy, feelings, imagery,
Form:
Quatrain
Sanity Slipping
by Odin Roark
For today,
There is but a subliminal haze.
Soon…
They’ll realize spring as summer,
An impatient today
Rapidly becoming tomorrow’s scorched yesterday.
They’ll remind themselves
Of gardens once blooming,
Now dust bowls of wind-driven regret,
Shrouding what’s left
Behind nature’s pawn shop windows.
Then…
They’ll send afloat their final thoughts
As ghostwriters waiting,
Strike their polished keyboards,
Creating another tome,
Perpetuating another unswerving pattern of failure.
They’ll ponder the dark collecting quickly,
As their rising flotsam of denial
Hitches up with commerce trade winds aplenty,
Eager to satisfy more covetous progress
Waiting amongst the many heads-in-clouds.
They’ll spend their final hours
Watching their neighboring countries
Bloviate established ritual chameleon-greed
As power’s gluttony exhausts
The remaining rations for survival.
Finally
Beneath ashen density,
Remaining embers will radiate
What’s left of fate’s losing battle,
Revealing demonic faces parading angelic wings,
Readying their blind eyes
For the final act of
Sanity slipping.
Categories:
hitches, environment,
Form:
Free verse
Individuality in decisions, expressions, actions and consequences
Never an island of oneself but also not under the mercy of others
Direct enjoyment of any corresponding benefit well deserved
Everlasting freedom with no hitches or pauses
Proper interaction with a strong sense of belonging
Equity and equality, striving to maintain the goodness of humanity
No more under a roof built for monitoring and strict observation
Doors of mutual respect, open to fertilize the sense of responsibility
Ending all dependence to use the grown wings and acquired limbs
Nurturing the new identity to promote self relevance
Child of yesterday transforms to the man of today
Eradicating this process is liable to conflicts, riots and wars.
Categories:
hitches, freedom, inspiration, inspirational, life,
Form:
Acrostic
PLEASE READ BRONTE INSPIRATION FIRST
Our courtship it continues at a gentle pace
Every time I see him my heart begins to race
Long walks in the country, late evenings by the fire
I really have discovered he is my hearts desire
Kisses in the moonlight, holding hands by candlelight
When I go to bed it’s him I dream of every night
But for now we kiss goodnight by the bedroom door
He respects my wishes that I want to remain pure
In the Parsonage Where the Bronte sisters slept
I fall to one knee and my promise is kept
The faded portraits seem to smile
Urging her to keep me waiting for a while
A wink from Emily, A grin from Anne
Charlotte's look tells me this is part of the plan
Waiting for the answer I feel my nerves dance
Adding to the feeling we are part of a Bronte romance.
We arrange a small wedding but there is no great haste
Until we are betrothed I am determined to remain chaste
My dress is made of beautiful silk and is the purest white
My groom he looks so handsome, he is my heart’s delight
At the altar like Jane and Rochester we stand side by side
This time there are no hitches, and soon I am his bride
We hold a small reception back at Wildfell Hall
Tonight for the first time into bed together we will fall
I hear the voice of my beloved
In my ear she seemed to say
Oh be patient if thou lov'st me
The power of love, The Bronte way
My ardour is inflamed by passions longing
But I must earn her virgin sacrifice
Soon she knows the feeling of being loved and belonging
For my bride only romantic perfection will suffice.
By Jan Allison and Darren Watson
19th April 2014
Categories:
hitches, love, marriage, romance,
Form:
Rhyme
a leaf falls from an October tree
hitches a ride on the breeze
before drifting to earth.
Categories:
hitches, seasons
Form:
Kimo
Reminiscing the threshold in infinity,
I seek the dimension of our curiosity,
Invisible threads then form,
In the making of an invincible bridge in that storm...
Haziness, vivid and incomplete bliss,
Where threesome snake of love nastily hisses,
On the golden neck, I plant those kisses,
Where the heartbeats from the niche hitches...
Nights of dipped melancholy,
Pens won't turn impeccably,
Hallucinations of holding fingers steadily,
Waking up from this dream and facing the reality...
I I
Timid and broken wings,
The feeble pegion smiles and sings,
The pain in ankle continues to sting,
From beak, falls an abandoned ring,
Which the pegion shoves,
When my soul floats in the dead pegion,
Beak breaks to smile and and looks at the flying dove!
Categories:
hitches, addiction, love, missing you,
Form:
Ode
Dear Ronny
What a Divine being you are !
You gallop in all your fours
the moment I call thy name.
At times, even my very look
fetches fast your benign presence.
You wag your tail ?
Flap your fan-like ears ?
Sitting by my doorstep rail
you wean out all my fears
and gently bark...you smile ?
Busy dad running after money
Self-gearing mom with her
Hectic hitches at her women’s wing
Brother, too little to talk to.
Friends stuck to mobile phones.
Tried to communicate grand-dad
Listless he had become, grew impatient
My approaches right or wrong, I was glad
I kept indoors like an eternal in-patient
for, none tried to understand.
Even tried God , Him I trust.
Threw silent prayers...again prayers
They say – a prayer is thanks giving.
It must be a supplication
Never turn it an application
Carrying worries to Him ? –my inner voice
No...Let it go. He destined it so.
Then, I turned my head to you, my next choice
The best choice, Ronny, raise thy brow ?
Doggy, you alone can bring me poise.
Now, I am pouring out my worries
Into thy reticently receptive rectangular head
Like the main channel of a overflowing reservoir
Forcefully falling into focused fathom
You wag your tail? Is it tail ? Or head ?
When an understanding soul is there
We continue riding in one-way
I tend to continue in that vein
Hey, Ronny, What’s that? Tears in thy eyes ?
There...I got my living god.
Composed by Muralidara Kannan
Categories:
hitches, dog,
Form:
Free verse
Applauses were even, numbers and faces were odd.
Clay was molded and fate washed her palm
Sentences were bold as my story was told.
One of a rusty heart of iron stitches
One of haggard feet of million hitches.
The flames danced bright and night was light
Chalices were of pumpkin and flutes of cane
Rites were roots, skins were dried and drums were drums
Arms were flags gliding on in the ululations
Chitenges were of savanna and tongues were of the zambezi.
Hisses were blisses and kisses were riches
Smiles were fireflies and pals were butterflies
Years had piled, miles were fat, feet was bare and dust lost lust
In kisses were riches and in stitchings were teachings
My fist rattled a straw in the condensed country breeze.
First of the sun and last of the sand
Of elephant heart and eucalyptus will
The tomb was torn, bones made skeleton and from earth crawled legacy.
This cage is sheath, these ribs cradle an epitome of the African Child.
Categories:
hitches, africa, celebration, culture, destiny,
Form:
Free verse
BY LYDIA BRESCIA JULY 2011
FOXTAIL TRAILS
THE GENTLE WIND TOUCHES FOXTAILS OUTLINING THIS COUNTRY ROAD.
THEY GLISTEN WITH SUNLIGHT POINTING OUT A DIRECTION YET UNTRIED.
LIFE BECKONS LIKE THAT, TO THE UNBEATEN PATH, TO SEE IF WE GET BY
GENTLE URGES ARE TAPPING US, TO SEE IF WE CAN DROP OUR WORRIES AND FLY
.
FOXTAILS HAVE A BAD REP. THEY COME IN SOFT N GREEN, GLIMMERING IN THE SUN
AND BURN, PRICKLY IN THEIR OLD AGE.
NEXT THING YOU KNOW AN UNSUSPECTING ANIMAL HAPPILY GOES BY AND FOXTAIL JUMPS AND HITCHES A RIDE! THE ANIMAL STOPS AND THUMPS UPON ITS’ RUMP
TO SCRATCH THAT FOXTAIL AWAY…WHEREUPON THAT FOXTAIL BURROWS IN THE GROUND TO SLEEP AND DREAM OF ITS’ ONE WONDERFUL RIDE!.
IN THE SPRING A SOFT GENTLE RAIN AWAKENS FOXTAIL FROM ITS’ DREAM, IT GROWS AND GROWS AND POINTS IT’S TOES AND STICKS ITS’ HEAD IN THE WIND !
BY LYDIA BRESCIA JULY 2011
Categories:
hitches, funny, nature, animal, animal,
Form:
Prose Poetry