Best Nipping Poems

Sleepless Night

Teardrops, bagged eyes, a way of sin
The mirror reveals a lost eternal soul
A conniving move against tonight's phantom glow
Voices circle around the insomniac moon
Like...

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Beneath a moonlit black velvet sky
Where scarlet leaves from the Maple fly
On November’s  wind and breathless sighs
And a lone coyote’s distant cry
You and me...

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Winter descended upon the prairie plain
Pelting the ground with freezing rain
Nipping, biting this cold morning air
Thin layers of ice coated everywhere

You get out on the...

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dizzy, from my shameless lust 
i paint your mouth with mine.
nipping, brushing faces, 
breathing you like oxygen.

my fingers, my lips, my tongue 
upon your naked back
draw a map to...

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Ageless and amazingly, the nerves sing,
butterflies flutter within the begin
like the bowed tension of a cello’s string.

Let the trailing flow of sweet kisses sting.
Pain so...

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Walking toward His grave, the cool air nipping at my nape on this chilly Nisan morning, feeling disconsolate. The sun has just risen over the...

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Jack Frost adores nipping at our fingers, toes and nose.
Always dressed in white, he hides outside our homes
Creeping out in the dead of night
Keeping his...

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It was in the mists of morning, beneath the rising morning sun,
We had come to conquer Ft. Langley, It was me and Al and John.
We...

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A Song If this is My Country..

This Song is dedicated to the brutal Rape victim of Delhi and it’s a message for My Countrymen. The...

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Shapely to coarse green stem, 
sitting alone; wanting to grin.
Patiently waiting for the take,
wanting Halloween to begin.

A few more weeks left to grow,
inviting; nestled in...

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The icy wind blows through
blushing our cheeks,

Eyes stinging and watering,
and mouths tinted purple.

Snow flurries whirl around us
nipping at our ears;
making our breath white and heavy.

So,...

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Ursus Maritimus ...

I entered your world in quietude, slipping through the granular, soft.
          Long slats to...

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Did you even note;
an imposter is in our midst!
And our beloved Tube is the originator.
Faithless beast, merely nipping
at our consciousness for many years
and now the...

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Adrift upon the ocean  
bob a bunch of resting birds.
What is it that they call themselves?
A flock or school or herd?

Could it be this...

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Soon we were face to face
Putting our pasts behind us
Our tomorrows a different place
Growing tall like quercus

Blessed tomorrows became caressed
Like words we became a sentence
Voiced...

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