Della Poems - Poems about Della

The feast, it happened, of Saints Peter and Paul. I’d called in early, for a final look at Saint Teresa in her cosy nook, before the tourists made a shopping mall of this delightful church. My plans on stall (for Mass was under way), I soon forsook my statue contemplation, since the hook the sermon dangled caught me in its thrall. Those two...

Continue reading...

Patrick Jovial, Inquisitive, Wise and Poetic Brother of Brian, Daniel, Andrea, Mellissa, Jamil and Anwar Lover of Freedom, Poetry, and Video Games Who Feels Liberated, Strong, Bold Who Fears Swimming, Heights, Eggplant Who would like to see Jesus,...

Continue reading...

(Acrostic Haiku) David's day's dine, drum Atmosphere's admiration- Visual's vastly view. Indoor influence ink... Doubling diet, desserts do date; Duty draws design Expanding earthly Long life lasting lord's luxuries- Let lungs love living. Ace age apportioned, Actualizing accolades And act attributes....

Continue reading...

from a street in Cartagena stepping suddenly into a restaurant so Italian surely i was in a time warp for i i was still in Colombia but fooled by the food so authentico and even the wine was from Italy so after paying my bill instead of using the usual gracias i just had to say grazie...

Continue reading...

Divine and crunchy the pizzas that you serve, Sweet the liqueurs I get but don’t deserve! Your eyes are dark, and moist they are like dew, Shooting darts with power to pierce me through. Pardon please an odd and pious hope. I think your case should come before the Pope, I’m sure His Holiness would gladly canonize One blessed with power to...

Continue reading...

Blessing the houses on easter eve day through out the parish he sprinkled away The priest stumbled upon a studio door where an artist was painting moments before. He splattered the water all over the room when artist returned and stated to fume. “What the hell are you doing? “You uncultured jerk.” “who gave you the right to alter my work?” “You should be...

Continue reading...

Sunflowers turn slowly to follow the sun. They bow their heavy heads when afternoon’s done. What a golden vision they share row after row With deep amber faces, their tiny seeds all aglow. The summer breezes blowing o’er the fields with warm air Shares pride in a country with its beauty so fair. I smile in contentment as I l leave...

Continue reading...

The little boat of my intellect now sets sail, To course through gentler waves, Leaving behind her a sea so cruel. There is no smoke beyond our wooden surface And moonlight eases a dark Void of wind, rain and storm Leaving behind a most carnivorous tide. The little flower of my dreams The littered hope from dank descent The light fury allure of the...

Continue reading...

Mr. Visage of the manor, was often regarded in the highest esteem. He lived in direct centre of the valley Lauded his walls with fine antiques and trinkets; Gold plated vases of crushed ice Refilled by the hour. Ebony perfumes Travelling in thick cloud, like a rich fog of delight Or marvel atleast. His walls were only thin bamboo, And he visited the villagers...

Continue reading...

Eyes are a beauty like no other, Where your deepest sense shines like lustrous glass; The perfect crystal structure, A divine un-shattered over easeful stars. Today I looked upon the light. Today I woke from a heavy slumber With memory much the same as dreams, Blinds had been lifted, And I draw my stillness Towards the feathered window release. I pour each breath to this...

Continue reading...

Bright Lotus of the lily pad Let it be known who fears the fall You who all would uphold in slumber Blind to a gaze refrained or stalled. Amongst this lonely block of figures and sand And thick, heated lines You glide across water in whispers; The divine scope of earthly kind. You I had watched from this embankment For days on end without...

Continue reading...

In a moment, a lapse of anguish Through the sanded markets that The mind implored. Dust coughed up And crystallised silence; Each moan and cry Of every wrapped face Became a whisper, As blood might echo an unheard drip Into a lake of cold concern. I do not know how the street kings felt For upon re-opening they continued much the same; Decrepit focus on none but...

Continue reading...

She doesn't deserve this. Alone, after fifty-odd years Married to him. Alone, too attached to her home To leave it to live with a son In a place strange to her. Alone, still talking to the husband Who has been dead a year now. In a moment of clarityy, she realizes he is gone And feels compelled to visit him At the cemetery. Down the...

Continue reading...

Her name is Della, when she meows she sounds like a squeaky toy and looks like a pot belly pig. Her fur is as black as can be eyes of gold that sparkle like diamonds. Once she had been lost but now she lives with me bringing me more joy and happiness than I could ask for. Her name is Della,...

Continue reading...

Even death cannot escape the clutches, Of this thing called, Love....

Continue reading...