Dusting Poems - Poems about Dusting

a dusting of snow transfixing eternity ~ the moment captured AP: Honorable Mention 2025 Posted on April 29, 2025...

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No hope. Not even on birthdays or Christmas. Opening presents, and smiling, Exclaiming in joy, only to never speak of it again. Then the next day is normal. Just doing things that I am told are what we are meant to do in this life. Like dusting around the house. And breathing in the dust which is dry and rotting. Just rotting,...

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IN THE DUSTING OF SPRINGTIME AND SWEET SCENTED THOUGHTS OF YESTERDAY In the dusting of the springtime When fragrant roses are in bloom Life just seems to be so sublime Gone are those days of darken gloom Sweet scented thoughts of yesterday Wonder through mind as moonlight spills Into mixture of hope and new day Gone those cold, frosty winter chills As life joins...

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In the dusting of the springtime, sweet scented thoughts of yesterday ring melodiously like chimes and again, preluding my way… As I reminisce all sweet scents, gentle breeze caresses my hair like when the star jasmines, hyacinths, gardenia and phlox filled the air. When butterflies hovered with bees, praising bright roses and tulips, my honeybabe gave my first kiss- great memories, so nice to keep. Blooming gifts,...

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In the dusting of springtime, sweet scented thoughts of yesterday come as star jasmine starts to climb and in the breeze I see it sway. I recall the scent of rose, of lilac and the trumpet vine - their fragrance wafting to my nose - becoming soon a scent divine attracting bees and butterflies to my mom’s lovely garden spot. Pappi fluff drifted to the...

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Drawing near to the end of May (The month devoted to Mary) Sweet-scented thoughts of yesterday Immerse me in books! I tarry... From the Spring-cleaning I should do And progressing with my job search Just so many books to read through! And I love spending time at church I made apple-cinnamon cake With a dusting of cinnamon Is avoiding chores a mistake? Forgoing house-dusting, a sin? Simple...

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Spring Dusting Though many years have flown with time Since we met that lovely Spring day In the dusting of the Springtime Come scented thoughts of yesterday. Doing the annual Spring clean I recall floret adorned trees Alike watching a silver screen I glimpse blossom dance o’er the breeze. Infusing air with sweet perfume Enhancing the start of romance That day was made...

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I pulled the cold and old electric Glarry piano out the closet and make happy music again; this one was the sensational joy of Claudio, he played it until he was tired and laid down! The first thing he'd do is to attune to his feeling, he'd sit down and play the Fifth of Bethoven; nothing ever bothered him, he kept...

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An Edvard Munch reproduction hangs demurely, yet with a blushing come-hither disclosing/unclothing. A Van Gogh print hovers near her like a sad and troubled lodger. I sense his self-inflicted wound itching under the bandages. Flick goes the duster, for a moment the diaphanous drape covering Munch’s semi-naked girl flies away. In his self-portrait, for an instant Van Gogh’s lost ear returns. I am putting the world to...

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This morning’s snowfall dusting Was a school-day-off surprise And so exciting watching through My grandkids’ eager eyes. So shortly after breakfast When I went to feed the birds, “I’m coming with you, Nana,” Were not unexpected words. There were snowballs, mini-snowmen And new paths tramped in the white, A half an hour's frolic To my granddaughter’s delight. My grandson’s choice was waiting To go out mid-afternoon. Alas,...

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As the dust of hope abates. I see what I trust, as I am hit with a spate. Tricks of despair, they inspire. Me to resist what they conspire....

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Rays of morning sun whisper through The window’s pane, stressing the gentle Flecks of life’s dancing dust, fragments Of soothing breathes, moving hopefully Through the light’s loving touch, sighing With compassion, kindness, rustling Softly, beckoning for music to paint The sincerity of joy discovered within One who knows the secret silence Drifting cheerfully through the air Creating a scene of whimsical inspiration That soothes...

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Did Find Myself Dusting Floor would do more and more did find myself dusting floor seem to be so sore Jim Horn twice a week ordeal never had been a big deal now with much appeal Just finished reading, "No Ordinary Time," by Goodwin who is a noted historian. Also finished reading Leadership by her....

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I never knew this is what it was called until it Happened to me In public. At first it was traumatic As it came out bellowing like a banshee And the aromatic bouquet wasn't flowering it Was a catastrophe. Rotten egg smell is atomic! I never knew this is what it was called until it Happened to me In public There was every one staring...

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The pastor whispers ashes to ashes- dust to dust like a pilot says, there'll be a little turbulence in the bus but in the throng there's ripples of panic and madness people spitting up grit with every quivering breath. Now its a game to see who can hold it together while beating back the momentum of death... as the plane rocks...

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