Deb Poems - Poems about Deb

You woke at the stroke of midnight Brain buzzing, "You simply MUST write! You are filled with desire Your muse is on fire Creativity, you should never fight! Each poem’s been penned by yourself Not stolen off a high bookshelf And you know PS rules (Ignore all the blog fools) And always be true to thyself You’ve written ten poems ~ hooray! In journals your work...

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A fatherless boy with a motherless son, wrote stories of nature to please everyone. Stories from the meadow, stories from the sea, native son of Sandwich, we come to honor thee. Five generations, of his family tree, native son of Sandwich, we come to honor thee....

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A student at Turdbois Uni Is studying Scatology Sue must write a thesis On impacted faeces She admits it’s a crap degree!...

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Love always finds away When a cycle to understand, Now together forever For Milt, his journey over a gift so lovely returned. Mark Toney's marathon mile 25 contest 25/1/2023...

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I love to rummage through Op shops Named Charity shops to some I enjoy finding a bargain Whether vintage, rustic, whatever….it’s fun! I grew up poor having a single parent So money was tight indeed Being the youngest it was mainly hand me downs Or a visit to the op shop to get what I need! So, it is in my blood I...

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I need to apologise, To sweet Deb M, In my poem about vegemite, I showed my age again. As I have mentioned many times, I am 84, I can see the old folk's home, Opening it's doors, To welcome this old duck in Because, of course, this ancient one, Has committed another sin, I said I was a Viking, Instead of a vixen, It rhymed with Viking So much...

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Idiosyncrasies, what are they? I know I am eccentric, I get more so every day, My strange ways and weirdness, Are always-on display, I cannot hide it, I often lose the plot. I can't count my idiosyncrasies, Because I have the lot. thank you for your clever Poem, Deb I think I read the lot. Was it you that penned it, Deb, Oh dear, I forgot....

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Tumbled into this world head first. Knowing not what was in store. Along the way some bubbles burst. Yet on this journey I found my core. First years were filled with pain and grief. Lost child was I with no direction. Seemed I'd never be granted relief. I was so hungry for love and affection. As I grew up the colder I got. Took...

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In the midst of the dewdrops that sparkle the morning the bluebird of happiness sang without warning. Basking in the sun of a new day's light then spreading it's wings for a first day flight. The sun grew so large in the painted sky while creatures stirred in the forest nearby. Frolicking in the shadows the animals play in search of new...

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hot air is what i mist, syllables don't get as crisp, less yer hanging by hand of wrist, but the great fall from cliff is inviting:) betwining betwixt, nah i don't lisp, just roof of me mouth bloody lining, no rum i aint pist, just some syllables missed, 2 short says Deb, she's divining.... Don Johnson...

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She liked to read any limerick of mine. I also thought her work was fine. One of the finest writers any souper knew, Deb was also adept at haiku. She has not posted anything since May. What happened to her? Has she gone away? I check the new material each day. None of Deb’s work appears to my dismay. Reading your material...

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Of nature's beauty,the lady writes. Spring's renewal or winter squall. Her eyes drink in the many sights. From summer bouquets to trees in fall. The words come sweet and gently flow. About her animal friends she writes. Birds in flight,creatures below. Those sunny days and moonlit nights. Along the paper her pen cascades. Bringing color to the world out there. She enjoys life's little escapades. We're...

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B.C. Before Christ walked the planet, Civilization’s rose and fell, Pyramid pics show a light bulb, Underground and lighted well, Batteries from ancient Iraq, Are in the worlds museums, Cataract surgery, done before the Romans, So we had to learn it soon. Power sources of the crystal, Vibration have we at the core, All of life vibrates, the mystical, Tuaoi stone was one power...

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BUT WHAT TYPE OF CHANGE change Alteration Subjugation Observation A constant conflagration Yet change be triumphant over stagnant stems and stalks of winter wheat made rancid The sacrifice of death is but a fire fueled nightmare hurling spittle at it’s spite A man such as me who owns no hearth within a home nor shelter For my life isn’t so much lifeless, it’s...

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I'll be your Bonnie if you'll be my Clyde. Together we'll swim out against the tide. I'm your queen and you are my king. I can't describe the joy you bring. My best friend ever and the love of my life. I want nothing more than to be your wife. You get me like nobody has before. You're my lover and so...

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