Best Spindles Poems

They flutter and hover
And float on the breeze.
They shiver and shimmer
And weaken the knees.
Fickle and fragile,
They tickle and tease.
Fleeting and flimsy,
Deceptively free.  

These frivolous...

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Blue-checkered curtains are faded, and drawn,..
after years since she made them, from gunny-sack cloth

The Singer, long idle, now gathers more dust,
with its needle still threaded,...

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Spindles crash and weave no more
Time it spins across the floor
Yarns mix up, colours bleed
I follow threads, they are the feed
Fingers feel, soles are placed...

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That old rusty gate, goes way back in time 
It's body of metal holds memories 
Through the hinges and spindles- Ivy climb 
Almost hidden from...

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clove cinnamon for simon&dunkin tuna for garfunkel.
wobbly looped spindles, hums tunes  "holy mackerel".
silent whispers alluring hoarding ajar.
more candid topics, endorsed by chet choppock.
overtime blenders...

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Where is the great engine of life?
  How many mechanics does it take 
  to keep it running smooth as a baby's bottom?
All...

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Athena
the dutiful daughter standing behind her father
in lightning thick with aegis assurance
read to protect her family
and counselling them times of need

Athena, the grey eyed goddess
who...

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Biology! Biology! How many times have I called you?
You frighten me every time I hear your name,
Because I can’t withstand your lies and pain you...

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She waits,
eight black spindles joined at one end by a pivot, a compass.
Each pinpoint balanced at the intersections
of self-drawn polygons.
Legs jointed like the fingers of...

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Summer 


This glorious time of year
grace is in bloom, divine
supple spindles gleam
by golden beam
waltz, waltz June fairies  
from dandelion to lofty pine.

Off on a...

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Venus politely introduced herself to the passing soldier ant,
The ant did gaze for long, at the pretty crimson plant-
Impressed by Venus's beauty, it listened to...

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 Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
Polished now in the  hallway, my  fond antique
Recalling Grandaunt’s delicate craftwork--
Each pattern of fabric threaded  with...

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Daily Poetry #30, February 27, 2017
Word: Pinwheel

As the world goes round, continuing to spin as we humans walk, 
And now that I realize it, I’m...

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Pumped

Reams of paper sit upon my desk accordioned untidily, dimpled where the cat stood or sat too long. The wastepaper basket was full of crumbled...

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A black cloud bleating
Over a trembling tree top
Calls swallows to play.
              ...

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