Best Hovered Poems

*Note 
I had to bring this one back, though I've been posting mostly new writes here that PS hasn't seen before. This poem has been...

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 A perfumed breeze with summer lavender 

Shapeless smoked clouds had come and gone 

Through verdant valleys I strolled along 

Honeycombed hues warmed the new...

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Where have they gone, the simple days of old?
Though filled with toil, their melody was sweet—
A blending of the common joys that hold
That special place...

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 Knotted in the Dance

Our eyes in a silent promise locked, 
the way only stranger's can.
Perhaps foretelling of lover's, unfrocked,
langoured and breathless ran. 

You, I...

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I was the one with the color-blue eyes, 
you were the wind on the sea. 
Of all the oceans tossed by your kiss 
why did...

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~ JOURNEY to the center of me!~

Yield upon this blissful moment!
In, a cutting-edge welcoming,
This minute can only maintain-

Yesterday’s journey~ Desire~

The world inside my head, can...

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Finally, as afternoon sun splayed
through the picture window
onto wood floor and last pieces of furniture,
I packed that summer on the lake
into a box, mitering indigo...

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I watched them across the water prance,

Back and forth in sprightly dance.

Liveried in emerald green, others had a sapphire sheen.

It was natural choreography, by tiny...

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Six steeple towers, cold as steel, drab daggers in the sky!	
Their hallowed halls no longer call when breezes wander by –
for, filled with dread to...

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Bleed for me


Why?
	Why what she says?
Why do you cut, why do you bleed yourself?
	Why do birds fly, how the heck should I know?
Ah but you...

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Billy don’t lose my number


No ones knows the darkness
Other than one who knows... the darkness
There is no snow
There is no white
Wings are clipped
There is no...

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~ The voice of loneliness - is barely audible ~ Quote by poet

          Terribly curved
 ...

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Where have they gone, those days of old:
   their melody- simple and sweet;
a blending of the joys that hold
   warm thoughts...

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Baxter was born in a meadow 
under a rotting plank
with hundreds of brothers and sisters
in a home both darkly and dank.

His momma was a June...

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It stood there
looking empty and old,
neglected and sad
with windows shuttered,
covered in shadow 
both day and night,
hovered over 
by trees whose branches
disguised the house
and made it...

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