Dawdles Poems - Poems about Dawdles

... In the garden of memories, a bloom so divine. A mother's love, an eternal lifeline. Reading the holy book, a melody that dawdles on. She was holy and a saint like persona. Through her Guid......Read the rest...

...grabs a hat from the hatstand fraught, he warps the midday sun no apricating mellow touch in haste, too early a venture while camouflaged conspirators beckon to no end, lest he dawdles throug......Read the rest...

...Written: September 11, 2023 ______________________________________________________________ Don't fret, dear; let's wend off the strife, Candor your winsome grace—embrace life. With ......Read the rest...

...An exuberant falcon she is, isn’t she? Being the aviator of my flight of thoughts. Cares less she to heed, whenever in adoration, I Do call her for a chat - she is ......Read the rest...

...Schuylkill Valley Encampment, February, 1778 Dearest Beloved, This letter, penned with nature still enwrapped in winter’s shawl, Might reach your hands by April, should it reach your hands at ......Read the rest...

...BELLS I. Bells has a tingling ring to it, a jingledy-jangle silver tone. The tympanic waltz, close knit — angelic chorus of Christ’s throne. And Winter parades its magic ......Read the rest...

...THE OPERA OF DUSK Theatre of life dawdles on Beyond that old and crumbling wall, Where birds and insects come on stage Dusk relaying a curtain call. The city of stones pensive dwells Lau......Read the rest...

...It’s such a simple gesture that we show to family and friends whene’er we meet; a simple way to always let them know we truly care to make this bond complete. A kiss can come in oh so many ......Read the rest...

...reverie dawdles cascading down fount of life irrigate Spring's grace March 6, 2018......Read the rest...

...Weebles wobble but they do fall down. Once without windup whimsy weebles wobble writhing in wistful wiggly wattles, they bubble, bobble, boggle, bottle and boondoggle coddles and dawdles; a ......Read the rest...

...Mosaics of orange and crimson rot with the last migrating duck. And barren soil, littered with death, stripped of its grandeur, turns to muck. Autumn dawdles well past its end, no long......Read the rest...

...On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity; neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity, as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man asks her to dance, she must decline. Stuck in a bubble, just missi......Read the rest...

...On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity; neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity, as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man asks her to dance, she must decline. Stuck in a bubble, just missi......Read the rest...

...On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity; neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity, as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man asks her to dance, she must decline. Stuck in a bubble, just missi......Read the rest...

...On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity; neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity, as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man asks her to dance, she must decline. Stuck in a bubble, just missi......Read the rest...