Channelling Poems - Poems about Channelling

...(A lone voice whispers) I always used to wonder Where do Robins go to sleep Then one dark night Within a deep all-consuming lucid dream At approximately one o'clock A beautiful deity a......

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... “The Seance” It was macabre you see, we were all summoned, and therefore found ourselves in the front parlour of Ballylee; In our dreams we thought we were poets ......

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...Channelling a King (A regal voice whispers) Oh Here She Comes Oh Here She Comes Oh Blessed Be Oh Blessed be Tonight the Goddess of Fertility and Motherhood Appears on her white ......

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... ravens croak applauding twilight larks churr saluting sunrise a last dance over an inverted verge. a perpetual encounter the last mesh of murk against gleams......

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...The pages meet my fingertips again Tenderly guiding the ink, as if it were rotten bile Channelling all away To minimal change of my world The illusory script does not function To the disappoin......

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...People, we are the pulsing heartbeats, Pumping life through this world's veins. Our words, the rhythmic thrums, Echoing through endless plains. Poems, they are the arteries of connection, Chan......

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...dawn’s cheery red cherries by the bagful cheek by jowl they munch dangling the stem, spitting out crunchy seeds (tooth breakers) channelling the healing power chalking up juicy rufescent bite......

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...If anything I see them each morning standing by her statue at the roundabout, Pensive, deep in prayer, reflective, perhaps seeking solace I don’t know! Maybe searching for forgiveness......

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...The first 'real' poem I wrote shook me to the core. I say I wrote it but really I think I was channelling it. I was a fifteen year-old girl and I wrote a poem about a soldier. I penned it in ......

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...Spatter, standard, seen before Said nobody Trajectory, tools, talent Said the air around me As I whisked around Slammed, splashed and slashed The mood of the movement Reflective of the observ......

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...Always fond of painting, my preference, Realism, I did a portrait of Bidden – but the nose kept going beyond the frame – so, with desire for the problem to tame, naturally, I got an-unnatur......

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...His palette was every shade of grey Jet black one end snow white the other And never did a stroke touch the canvas Before endless moments of pondering Like a crow in a tree Surveying a frosted ......

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...The windmills swallowed Don Quixote, Ocean spat out Atlantis. Nothing will surprise their hearts Captured by stony aortas. The boy from family portrait on the shelf, Dag his bitten nails i......

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...By those virtues deposited in my heart; Amiss those tandem brutal deleted parts; Memories of prior judgment sinner wrath; Presently mourners rants when will healing start; Remorseful and enligh......

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...He played the cello with such finesse Clutching his instrument tight to his chest As if he was channelling his very own heartbeat In every stroke ~ in every note Investing so much with e......

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