Best Mill Poems

The grist mill stands by the side of the lake
A bustling flour mill of yesteryear
An eerie place where many people died
If you go inside you will sense the fear.

John Grist the miller was a psychopath
Well known for his outbursts of drunken rage
Those that upset him...

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The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until the Spring
And still  today in thought a chill it brings
The vision of the ice upon the lake
That time in passing still can not erase

That mill wheel in the grip of winter's breath
Stone cold and still ... a lifelsss...

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Hiking a dry creek bed, at the mountain's base
I happened on an old grist mill, a prisoner
of time, serving life in isolation.

A few rotten boards scattered about
was all that remained of it's dilapidated Norse wheel
The broken millstone lay silent on it's bed
the thick green ivy...

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The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until the Spring
The yellow tape defines it a crime scene
Similar to one in 1930
Locals watch police investigating 

The 1840 gristmill's history
Involves the town's most famous mystery
A man charged with fraud and duplicity
Dodged first degree murder complicity

Whispers ran through the town...

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The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until the spring,
the workers loaded up all their belongs;
and left for town and to their families,
soon the Mill was quiet with only mice.
The winter wind was now blowing snowflakes,
ice was forming on the roof and windows;
then, a soft scraping of...

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I often watched  him tirelessly sifting
Grains of native corn in a rusty mill-
     Those arms a kinetic flush, quicker than
     July’s heat, as if glazed limestone rubbed
A wavy mane blown by summer’s tossed air :

Perhaps, I...

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The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until the Spring.
Covered in ice from the frigid Winter freeze,
no production until the ivory dove does sing.
The town wondered what nature would bring, 
so no one walked around with reposed ease. 

The streamlet was frozen and along the shore
they found...

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“The Mill wheel wouldn’t turn until the Spring”
“Old River’s” frozen heart a yearly thing
cold solace of deep snow a lonely gift
to those with ugly memories to sift.

For wheels that grind the truth in darkened minds
to sift the chaff of memories gone blind
will place a ghastly...

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A little ways north of Mill Creek
the beach runs round
to a single wide arcing swath

Where the tide stems landward in shattered segments
fast against the open mouth
of sea and sand and barnacle

There is also a cliff near the free stone rising
above the under-base of a million...

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Going through its ambiance, (on) with open thoughts,
Past scenes so serene, and picturesque (in situ passed).
A house, its windows just ajar to the tactile winsome breeze
That taste of zest & adventure infused; with distilled memory’s, 
And (sensed) delights unmet “as yet”.the wend of life so...

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Sunrise found the farmers waiting 
 at the grits mill by the stream. 
 With the sound of grinding corn, 
 neighbors worked as a team. 

 Sharecropping is just a memory... 
 No more tobacco to be strung~ 
 Cottonpicking is now mechanical. 
...

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[img src="http://www.wallpaperpassion.com/upload/18797/water-mill-wallpaper.jpg"]

the old grist mill stands
nestled in the rocky bank..
red fall leaves surreal............................by Sara Kendrick
 
vibrant blue sky glows stronger
shadowing my dim life's light.......................By Doris Culverhouse
 
red stained swift water
rushes onward to the sea..
slow decaying mill.............................by Sara Kendrick 
 
Vibrant life vacant
Emotions rush, rapids flow
heart...

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the old grist mill stands
nestled in the rocky bank
red fall leaves surreal

Vibrant blue sky glows stronger
Shadowing my dim life's light

red stained swift water
rushes onward to the sea...
slow decaying mill

vibrant life vacant
emotions rush, rapids flow
heart and zest soggy

The once spinning wheel silent
Red Birds watch an era...

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The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until Spring 
Money was needed for refurbishing
Built in nineteen hundred and seventeen
It was advised they replace everything 

A treasured part of local history
Host to all the town's social memories
The wheel itself was pieced in artistry
Workers heard tales of hidden treasury

Whispers...

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The mill wheel would not turn until the spring,
the ice, springtime, thawing, now showing bling.
The mill, now in motion, mill pond, full spate!
Hark, the grinders grind flour for bread, can't wait.
Fickle the weather, the water freezes,
hard frost, the mill and pond, motion ceases!
What grain was...

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