Best Limply Poems

Nobody observes her leaving her room
wearing just her nightdress and red felt carpet slippers
Shuffling silently she slips out of the front door onto the street
Rivulets of rain start to soak her to the skin
Her straggly hair hangs down limply
It becomes so matted and twisted 
Soon...

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I’m sick of hearing from old Bill that I’m a whimpish sort of bloke,
Because I don’t care for rodeo’s and can’t relate to outback folk,
That I prefer to travel in a car, when I go from A to B,
When I should be riding horses like...

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I have caressed
in coffin draped hugs
those who defended me,
hung limply as taps
and tears flowed
across generations.
Known the thrill
of fireworks and jubilation
rose, full faced,
in sundrenched
wind starched glory.
Wept in “half staffed” darkened loneliness
as horse drawn carriages
moved through silenced crowds.
I am neither a cause
nor a solution
but a symbol
of our...

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It stood on the top of the hill
dominating all of its surrounds.
Its drawbridge these days lay open
spanning with ease the now dry moat.
Like a fairy tale fortress it had turrets
that soared up high brushing the clouds.

Its four towers majestic as blankly,
they stared, covering all points...

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Lyrics based on “The Poet And I” by Frank Mills
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-f0YcZ-ECc
(Lyrics start after a 15 secs intro.)
Please, it's important to follow the music; thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I love you’ she softly whispered.
Her hand lay limply in mine.
Then, she left in silence as the evening turned into night.

She left...

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John Wulf, with his funny Limerick antics  telling funny hilarious stories,

“viagraology

There once was a medical study
of things flapping flaccid like putty
those men given placebo
couldn’t enter gazebo
it drove the poor fellas plumb nutty

Copyright © 2015John Wulf” 

but also has his very soft spot for all...

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August’s dry winds scorch the landscape
While I sit here in the shade of a weeping willow
Watching tiny dust devils twirl and spin along the pavement
Living heat dances, wavering gently the scenery before my eyes
While poppies and gladiolas wither limply on their stem
But the peridot sweet,...

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There'll be another empty cot on the camp ground tonight.
Alas, a gallant soldier gave his all in the frightful fight.
His anguished pleas for peace were unheard o'er the battle's roar.
Will humankind ever learn from the barbarous futility of war?

There'll be a pair of empty boots...

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Lost and Found

Find me in the shadow of life’s archway
waiting…’neath the grey of dingy art work
pressed into the dark of passing's moment,
wilted roses held limply in old hands
clinging to the sounds of lovers voices
whispering to the darkness – “Please….find me.”. 



1/17/2017

submitted to – FIND ME...

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I do not want to simply fall -
to limply slip down from a tree.
I need a purpose to live for.

No Humpty Dumpty on a wall
that splatters down to earth for ME.
Oh, life, there still must be some more!

Some more to do – yes, do it...

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Neither mad dogs nor Englishmen
rejoice as sunlight growing thin
allows the tidal sands to shift
through moonlight’s vapor growing dim

Yet still the beasts of lolling tongue
huddle with their shaded young
beneath a cloak of crimson red
abandoned nests now left unsung

Whilst I enjoyed this mingled tryst
as lovers passing gently...

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POTD
How I wish I could have clutched
 vignettes of remembrance
on this bench in a park; 
the same wooden one
which cradled our afternoons,
feeding little birds
as  slices of pang gripped my marrow--

The sharp sting of her farewell, 
right on this spot
drowned time's kohl of fate--- 
that...

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I stand with you upon the shore
                          of dreams that echo,
         ...

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So, what would you have me write?
Dulcet words of limply lurid metaphor
stuttering staccato of acceptable alliteration
preposterously impersonal personification
drab and dreary diluted imagery
innocently innocuous innuendo
insouciantly inane sonnets
neutered non-rapier wit
squishy, soft white bread limericks
fettered faint hearted free verse
sanctimoniously soft spoken rants
devoid of do’s and don’ts, can’s and...

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Winter
by Michael R. Burch

The rose of love's bright promise
lies torn by her own thorn;
her scent was sweet
but at her feet
the pallid aphids mourn.

The lilac of devotion
has felt the winter hoar
and shed her dress;
companionless,
she shivers—nude, forlorn.

Published by Songs of Innocence, The Aurorean, Contemporary Rhyme



Roses for a...

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