Carpeted Poems - Poems about Carpeted

... Portraits of hedgehogs on his grimy tiled walls Pete did for good taste what heat does for snow balls Though a weird kind of charm lay on his carpeted floor Not hed......

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... Today, we remember the long, scorching march into the tombstone— eyes like oceans, salt pouring from flesh. Today, we remember the cross, 300 pounds heavy, bent and dipped into his head. H......

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...My brain hurts. In sync. With itself. I could be… Inside. With no windows. But they give me a window anyway. My heart sits. When I am screaming. But also not doing anything. I wish th......

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... In the laughing woods, Where oaks speak their peace And wildflowers smile with ease, Where moss carpeted stones seem to breath And pine scented nights sometimes grieve, Where the forest ......

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...It will never be quiet again. The kitchen. Dripping water. Tapping sounds. From outside, inside, outside, inside… I might sleep someday. On the floor, The floor toils and trembles. The wall......

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... Violet dreams drenched and soaked in fantasy, vapors of the most imaginative kind. In this fantasmal Universe live little magical volatile people, both sentient and blue. Carpeted with law......

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... We all headed off from Chingford, from good old London Town Us the McGregor Brothers, and 'Pigman' our murdering clown Leaving the 'Turtle and Monkey' very close to 'Dorset Street' Whe......

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...breek n brare along a carpeted hall bax n goolin oft is a ghoul betrackeding down a creakeding stair trumble n frumble n deatheding fall ......

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...Sea Glass From Mother Nature’s Jewel Box She gives us… Hummingbirds with wings aflutter, a symphony for cherry blossoms Sunset, moonrise primordial orbs, magic looms Shooting comets that grac......

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...My bed is next to me. It’s not enough. Carpeted floors tickle. The fan is making me dizzy. My parents are in their dreams. I pretend to dream as well. I suddenly jolt. I could do it, I could w......

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...Patrick, Pearl and Phillip were fond siblings, in halcyon days of fairy tales; Long beloved of Mother and Father, like beloved ballads of all nightingales. Father was a successful tailor,......

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...It's the weekend (Friday night). Lisa and I are hangin’, music’s playing, and we’re rummaging through my suitcase, for an outfit option, for me, tonight. Call it cliché, but we like going out - and g......

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...Sit-upons that we wove together. The troop activity. How many spots will remember me? The wicker basket and picnic blanket woven into the amphitheatre. We, my hubby and I, cozied up, listened......

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...Below the veil of twilight, memories sway in the moon's oaring, Effigies of the departed rise like incense smoke amongst ruins. They have sprinkled us with pale dreams, and now, flowers of forgetfu......

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...Pretty delicate soft and beguiling A visually grand relished feast Instantly upon sighting Floods our soul with adulation and appreciation A rush of serotonin Ellicites pleasantly aroused awake......

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