Best Thistledown Poems

Thistledown wus his name and sometimes he stung, well actually his stem stung. The stinkers gave him a bad name, they did! Handsome wus he....

Read more of this work...

The balmy breeze wafted over the prairie,
Where yellow cowslips huddled in patches.
And here and there I heard a whisper echoing:
Love her, love her, love her.

...

Read more of this work...

I don’t know
where dreams go..

Maybe they take form in the sky
a genesis of nothing but cloud castles,
building subdivision into an eternity
where no one’s ever home.

Or...

Read more of this work...

Life is good and serene I sit,
For I never need to question it;
There's much I know that's odd no doubt,
But nature knows what it's all...

Read more of this work...

Early in the morning of 13 February 1692, in the aftermath of the Glorious Revolution and the Jacobite uprising of 1689 led by John Graham...

Read more of this work...

riding on 
a puff of wind
thistledown...

Read more of this work...

plumed gems
flit and flutter
from whitest Queen Anne's Lace
To purple thistledown roadside
treasure...

Read more of this work...

The Queen of fairies fell asleep
upon a bed of thistledown.
And didn't notice the hours creep
as she dreamt of a golden gown.

She was to meet the...

Read more of this work...

His Velvet  voice
Rusty growl
Gentle pauses caress the veiled swell
             Her secret beneath...

Read more of this work...

Blowing up
On the thistledown tail 
Dancing in grooves 
Of Vulcans palm
Printed in a horses ear
Swimming in a fish's gills 
Cleverly caught 
To be spread on...

Read more of this work...

With fanciful thoughts swarming like locusts,
When my mind runs bizarre, I look for a quiet spot
To sit and jot them down, not bothering if they...

Read more of this work...

ON SEEING A BIRD FREQUENTING
 A PERCH BEHIND MY WINDOW


Shot with grape dark beauty
Perches behind my window –
My love-
Hops to tickle my heart
Skims my dream...

Read more of this work...

There was an old woman, who lived in town,
She had seven cats, all of whom wore frowns,
When crimson butterflies left, each sundown,
Off to their sweet...

Read more of this work...

The wild asses' rough hair 
Similar to their diet of briars and thistledown
Kicking and braying and sit down

A wild donkey was he 
Not understanding nor...

Read more of this work...

pouring rooibos tea for no one
  but me.
    the high whistle would not
      be a sound
...

Read more of this work...