Draw In Poems - Poems about Draw In

We harvest all we can to last us through winter Glance at the majestic moon and make a wish with her Magical things happen as her rays beam down a soft side of night cuddles us close Dreams come in quietly holding us nearer We stop to reflect on things gone by The nights get shorter the air carries a chill which we wrap up against Now's the...

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Even sagacious tribes of loquacious scribes fail to describe the goodness gracious..bodacious..outrageous..tenacious..courageous vibes from both sides Flush with the lush lexicon repository in the plush oratory laboratory hard not to plump for a heavenly hush…then a rush of hagiography gush..for the artistry and mastery..rhapsody..epiphany..melody and symphony of this sumptuous..rambunctious unctuous Test tapestry Primal tribal rivals…Benball versus...

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According to Bazball law, deplore the days of yore, hell bent..ignore what went before Why even mull over a tie..cull every dull lull…do or die super nova…run rates soar…can chase whatever they score, make sure there’s no more bore draw But hard not to adore or at least admire…the entire five day feast and the Ben beast...

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a scribble here a scribble there my pen randomly drawing diagrams and spelling out words meaningless chatter idle artwork mindless spilling of thought overflow nervous tic kinetic outreach mental gymnastics creative outlet for pent-up energy AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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A missile’s disguise is a flower magnetic, a whiff of its power Yet when its petals draw near a new odor appears ...

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The sea laps the shore, whilst the sand receeds into its cold blue temptress. Oystercatchers sqwark, their long beaks beaconing the summer solstice. Upon the clifftops, weathered walkers feel the breeze, adrift by sundown. Day 0 - End to End Trip Poetry Works. 04.30.2025...

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To draw is something … I could never do well, The joy a picture can bring The stories it can tell I could never do well Drawing freely on my own, The stories it can tell Remains for me unknown Drawing freely on my own Pencil, paint and line, Remains for me unknown A skill that is not mine Pencil, paint and line An artist...

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I draw the heart alone on a wall, I draw the heart on the night. Wanted to draw my heart on a heart, but it always kept itself out of sight, never appeared like the endless common tales under the sun, rain or the moonlight. (23.04.2025)  ...

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Draw me closer to your light and bring me farther away from this world of concrete Angels and sleuths Anoint me with your grace Lord and make me thine own I rather live in communion with you, than any place on earth. ...

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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...

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Sometimes you are good, but you just don't believe, You have negative thoughts, you let your talent blow away on the breeze. Do what you want, you could write even draw, It doesn't matter what you do, if your happy its never a chore. Put it out there for others to see, Some will like it and some just...

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Some of us are born to write... Others here to draw. Either way, we paint our life In living metaphor. Everybody is creative, Different and unique. We are all strong, even when We think ourselves as weak. Words for some of us can be A simple piece of cake. Others' visions are told in The pictures which they make. Together, we can write a book As well...

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Whenever I hold a pencil in my hand ,I shake. If I try to draw and pretend to imagine, I will fake. It's not that I do not like or appreciate this form of art. Just that it does not come to me from inside of my heart. We all have different abilities, likes and dislikes. Drawing does not excite...

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Blossoms line my laden descent down to the perked watering hole that plays empty theater, awaiting my creative path, a royal welcome - represented by accumed variety and presumed clarity, of intentional therapy of renewed sensable youth. Periscope complicity is channeled by heart's stereoscopicity, Dryad/Satyr Satire, no dry ads, only wet views. Season facets...

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Have you seen the chic pink Gucci tiger ad? She asked me outright. I had not, but knowing that company, it is fancy, unique and tight. We want you to create something like that, said the imposing baboon. Does she not know the only thing I know how to draw is a girly cartoon? ...

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