Chloe Poems - Poems about Chloe

Chloe

Chloey was a concubine
By the time that she was nine
Gents who should have saved her
Said only she was mighty fine.

I Am the Sea

I am the sea.
I let the fine sand sink,
I let the velvety sand shift.                                         

Chloe

Here she comes
Riding on the wind
Sensing all the chill
Feigning not a thing

There she goes
As her garment flows
Into hands of time 
And for love sublime

Now she bends
Singing on a sigh
While she sits on high
At the golden helm

Oh we know
She knows how to ride 
And to beat the tide 
Any time we ride

Chloe

eyes of seafoam green
feral mermaid heart

holding out for true love
her balanced counterpart



AP: 1st place 2020

Submitted on  September 28, 2020 for contest COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (18) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  Honorable Mention

Chloe

There were skies onyx at night... moons by day...
lakes pale as her eyes... breathless winds
undressing tall elms; ... she would say
that we loved, but some book said we'd sinned.
 
Soon impatiens too fiery to stay
sagged; the crocus bells drooped, golden-limned; 
things of brightness, rinsed out, ran to gray...
all the light of that world softly dimmed.

Chloe

My little running buddy, my best furry friend 
You came into my life
As a white bundle of goofy bichon
Dressed up as a terrier.
You terrorized our Princess Xena,
And, as a crazy Hallowe’en pup,
Climbed up onto the table
To lick clean butter and sugar bowls
And back down again to chew the table legs! 
You chased the beach birds

Chloe

Only one girl I fell for instantaneously 
had it all was so cool sexy insanely sweet 
at the pool in her bikini in my awe weak
more beautiful than all and all I seek

She smiled like an angel with blue eyes divine 
gorgeousness unable too digest quick time 
as I watched her the rest a blur

Chloe

Chloe


Chloe's are the smallest hands
smaller than the hands e.e. cummings gave the rain
Melting the snow of my white glove
together we look out over the white domino tombstones
Chloe's are the brownest eyes
Wet and sad like a spaniel dogs
Tracing the shiny brass buttons on my uniform coat

Chloe is to young to understand why i clench her hand

Chloe Grace Moretz Atlanta

Chloë Grace Moretz, Atlanta
                                          A poetry on coconut butter
     

Chloe, Precocious Princess

She's only six
but so alive
moving constantly
talking incessantly
singing with Three Doors Down
playing dress-up
posing for the camera
doing her "model" walk
performing ballet

swimming, swimming
making friends
teasing her cats
chasing butterflies
drawing, coloring
writing her name
talking to strangers
asking questions
innocent and expectant

watch her play -
             guard her well!

Chloe

Those bright, helpless eyes staring up at me. Instantly I understand her 
thoughts, as she cannot speak.

I often find it difficult to comprehend  how much this tiny girl needs me. And she 
never puts up a fight even if we disagree.

The trust she has in me is unlike any kind. She has a heart

Chloe

Chloe

Where do you go to dear Chloe?
When you’re not alone at your desk
Is it a fancy swish restaurant whilst drinking champagne with the best?
Yes where do you go to dear Chloe?
When not quizzing the minds in protest
Is it curled up by the fireside reading Stumbling up to Happiness?
Yes where do you go to dear Chloe?
I’d

Chloe

CHLOE

Chloe chastised chauvinism
Hating hypocrites of opposing gender
Liberating her limitless femininity
Obsessively opposing male nuances
Emotively enticing heroism


Copyright© May 2013—Kim van Breda

Chloe Broadbent - Stillborn 1899

Chloe Broadbent

Stillborn  1899


My simple soul, my eyes,
Have never beheld the jewel of the night,
The morning star that ushers in
The dawning of a new day.
My brief inner heartbeat has never felt
The gentle pelting of the rain,
As it descends downward
Gently, peacefully, magically,
Like the mist of a cascading waterfall
Hidden deeply
Far away
Somewhere in the distance
In the mysterious grottos

Chloe

With you, I remember
what it means to love.
And in love I find life,
rising from the morose shadows
to fly like a purebred charger
across asphalt fields
and through urban dystopias.

With you I remember
what it means to laugh.
And in laughter I find joy,
fleeing the hurricanes of hate
and the wrath of drunken self-tyranny
to walk with you side by side,
almost touching,

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