Best Silver Lace Poems

Through the brambles of the arbor's vine,

an artist has spinned some silver lace

This net was cradled over leaves

slung low, and wet with dew.


Evidence was left in place,

a hammock swings as if on cue

Crocheted with skill and flair

to glisten in the sun


Breeze trembles every curl and...

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Autumn dripping leaves of weary gold
Exits quietly, fading through the trees.
Hawthorn shakes her cloak of ruby fire.
Naked to the woods and twisting breeze.
 
Winter’s breath now lingers in the air.
Strands of whispered frost on silver lace.
Deep within the green a distant voice.
Calls the breeze to...

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Because Of Grace And Beauty Your Dancing Steps Made

Where bright red in your dance dress, shows truth in your heart
gold and silver lace my dreams of time spent with you.
Tho' fate sent dark storms driving us so far apart,
my memories are as bright as your...

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As rain clouds clear striated blue
And sun streaks write their names once more
Upon dawn meadows tranquil green
And all along the distant shore,
On far horizons dappled white
The morning creeps across the sea
On scattered wings of silver lace
That bring the song so close to me.

And every kind...

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From wind that cried then softly died, until at last it merely sighed,
A memory wrapped in imaged song, without the need for right or wrong
A cornerstone of long ago, when life still had somewhere to go,
A memory intertwined with dreams, at least that’s how yesterday...

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In the darkening sky, there's a depth one can feel
My breath forms a cloud in the late evening chill
My eyes search for the sign of an in-coming storm 
Small crystals of ice are embraced by the hills
And have raced to the valley, to my own...

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The church all speckled with red and white
Billowy white bows affixed to the end of pews
Red roses in vases & all other possible places
A silver lace runner leads the way to impending 'I dos'

As far as the bride and groom
those titles weren't easy to get
They...

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Sailing the oceans of my mind, i dream that i am free 
   No compass tells me where i am, or where i ought to be.
   I drift along on summers breeze, and gaze at starlit skies.
   They guide...

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Yea, victors jest. They out-sped the cast of hunger’s cave.
Their cantors, ragged kept, did reach an faithful end.
They in the din o’ drizzle laugh, licking cool drams from stone,
as had they crawled o’er hot pools bled to prod ‘n prattle.

And who’d, when quenched, a saunter...

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Adorned in pearls and silver lace, 
the moon's tranquility veiled her virtuous face.
A white flowing satin gown she did wear,  
as moonbeams touched upon her silver hair.

'Twas beneath the blue moon’s exulted arch,
the night awaiting the sun’s returning march.
I stood upon the sun bleached...

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I.
Treasures That May Be Found In Destiny's New Shift

( Mille viri sententia agere nescit donec suscipit calamum scribere.)

For a brief spell, I hung my hammock in the shade
of the ancient tall oak tree, that God's word hath made
beneath glorious canopy, spread deep and wide
all the...

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from your first born, when you grab a dusting of talc, crushed with late night feeds, stirring in bouncing and stories on a knee,

adding a layer of stumbled steps, with a batter thickly made of learning to say “No”, doughy rings of crossed arm tantrums,

glazed...

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More fragile than a fine necklace.
Cool dewdrops crystalline.
Like diamonds set in silver lace,
Perfection, beauty, style and grace.
Where spiders webs, of silk so fine.
Hold natures tears divine.

Stroll barefoot through the morning dew,
Beside a waterfall.
Exhilarating, as the view,
When early mist gives way to blue.
Our tears of joy,...

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Our love, forever placed in time,
Our hearts forever intertwined,
Like a silver lace vine,
each others hearts,
We keep and hold dear,
Love like this is never clear,
Even though we may not know,
What is planned for us,
We do know that it has grown,
Into something amazing,
Words cannot describe,
The way we...

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I Walk Midnight Arena All Alone

O' chalice of the world, mystical sphere
Treasures  born from ancient raided castles
What of palid crescent moons hanging low
And the broken arm of heart's rabid fear.
Of smoky Indian jade and silver lace
Our God the Painter, seeing deaf and blind
This savage...

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