Curves Poems

Soft Hush of Nature's Halo Curves

ocean waves drift in
wildflowers bend in soft winds—
with gentle curves
soothing calm natural minds
without demands or burdens

curves of rivers' arcs
fractals etched in snowflake veins
caress weary eyes
while urban straight lines shatter—
reflection splinters apart

concrete towers thrust
the geometry of squares
clawing at the sky
every sharp angle pierces—
minds that shrink from the hardness

billboards blast their glare
sirens rip through noisy streets
ravaging the

Curves

An easy type of quilting 
Is to sew two fabric squares 
Which are pinned and lined up neatly;
Nothing else, for ease, compares.

Once you make the shapes more complex,
Like a triangle or curve,
Things might get a little tricky
And you need a bit more nerve.

I’ve been sewing several years now
And still have a way to go,
For when

Beautiful Chrome Heart

Midnight rides—his pulse aligns with the thunder beneath him
fingers tracing her curves polishing fire into steel.

Wind against his skin she sings beneath him once more
Saturday mornings spent bathing her shine in devotion

One last glance—wait for me—before stepping inside
his grip firm not on the world but the rhythm of her frame.

The highway fades yet she alone

Where the Sea Curves

The ocean
caresses her hips.
The sea loves her shape,
her curves are its curves.

Sipping a cold coke
watching a gang
of ogling young men.

A flowing tide
slips from her brown skin
almost reluctantly.

The boys are waving,
the sea is waving,

inwardly,
interestingly,
(at my age),
I am surfing a high crest,
and easily riding above
her incoming hips.

Curves And Crevices

Written By:  D. Collins 12/25/24


 There's nothing like the curves and crevices of all women.
That distinct little thing that does something to men.
They get all pumped up, and don't know how to act.
Plotting in their mind just how to get at that.


Focused like a laser with a night vision beam.
Targeting in on what should

If I were a child again, I would learn to draw worlds from lines and curves of dreams

If I were a child again, I would learn to draw worlds from lines and curves of dreams,
To breathe life into paper with colors intertwined in a silent and pure symphony,
But as an adult, I don't even know how to draw a boundary between desires and reality,
Letting the outlines fade into the fog of days

Transplant

These are poems about shadows and shadowy things...

Transplant
by Michael R. Burch

You float, unearthly angel, clad in flesh
as strange to us who briefly knew your flame
as laughter to disease. And yet you laugh.
Behind your smile, the sun forfeits its claim
to earth, and floats forever now the same—
light captured at its moment of least height.

You laugh here

Curves

My arms over my chest
Where you want yours to be

My back bent over my body 
To have the layers fall over my chest and my stomach

My collars held closely at my neck 
The rolling of my curves hidden always
Sleeves held down over the arms that hold marks of shame

Upon shame I hide my body

Upon your

Curves Contours Vale Mounds And Folds

Curves valleys mounds and folds
A sweeping landscape we choose to travel 
And enjoy to linger for a time
Whenever we can
To us and our companion
To the High peak of satisfaction
And release mounting tension
In the pleasant valley below

A much-needed vacation
Then it's back to work 
Again.

Learning curves

Life's lessons on what to do and what not to do in life

Learning curves

Slight bumps in the road to make us stop and double check our work and make us learn from it

Straight Face Curves-Tb

Love expresses
~on faces by~
traces of smiles.

Learning Curves

path of obstacles 
challenge of finding answers 
learning as we go

Where the Sea Curves

We observe the water
caressing her hips.
The sea loves her shape,
her curves are its curves.

On the beach 
all who see her waving
watch and wish.

Where the Sea Curves

A pilgrimage should not take a direct path,
a traveler should wander seeking to be even lost
following new tacks
to unexpected destinations.

if you know where you are going
the sacredness of your journey
will be at best just a ritual.

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