Engraved Poems - Poems about Engraved

Frozen stars in the shadows of changing seasons, the pain of love engraved in acrylic gold Swirls through the sunlight, draped in somber mists, the echo of endless memories Of a timeless love story, I feel the frozen sigh of a suffering sunset While the warm mustard dew of shifting fog gently caresses the sapphire fringes of silent...

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Maybe I am not allowed in the society Maybe I am not fitting in the society But wait what society? The society who beats me with rods? Or the society Who crushes me by there vehicles? Or the society where we are selled in the negotiable prices? Ahh..or society who throw the stones towards me? Or the society who tries...

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I wrote your name in the sand one day Knowing that the sand will drift away So I, engraved your name into my heart Everyday I thought about you Sitting in the tall grass Laying there memorized by you Blue eyes piercing through to my heart So I wrote your name in the sky Knowing that the wind will blow it away So...

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In the penumbra of oblivion, I've engraved words of gold, About flowers that assembled their petals from moments of beginning, About storms, in which the lightning melted into dark forces, And all that was here was but the gift of silence that crossed. I've always drawn mornings that never embraced the dawn, The story of a labyrinth where steps are...

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She watched the demolition team enter her old school. In the next few days it would be raised to the ground. The end of an era she thought, Christ, it was depressing. Suddenly a thought entered her head, could a mystery finally be cleared up. She ran out of the house over to the demolition team,...

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I hang memories in chosen frames, Graceful images portraying the past, When hearts shared the gentleness, the glory and grace, I grieve for the moments, fleeting glimpses, Yesterday embraced by the gaze – attempting To raise beautiful beneath moist lashes. Feelings erasing the weary past – promises, Burdened by the gaze from slow solitude, Where the memories fade into a thoughtfulness, And the thought...

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Steely needles stab and scratch at solid rock Over and again – etching there her lines and curves. Painting his love and despair onto the cold unfeeling stones, Hoping for release – finding little; for peace – finding none. In six-fold color, he recreates in profile her wan visage: Ever poised on the precipice, the sick child awaiting...

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Arts On wood Sculptures on Rocks that relent Passages on sands Images on gold Love writ knit Hearts on Hearts 12 February 2023...

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2-11-23 Writing Challenge- E Words Poetry Contest Sponsored by Constance La France The worst are the clearest; As clear as water itself. Most replay in my mind, And only some dull out. Good is still clear, But has been tainted by sorrow Sadness of what I've become; I no longer know. The best are diamonds in the rough, Needles in haystacks. As rare as they are, They...

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He was not impressed. God knew the number of hairs on his head. Did that include his beard if he ever grew one? He would ponder this and other such anomalies of faith. Why would a Supreme Being care about numbers, or sparrows falling from the sky, or follicle formations? Perhaps we were given a number at conception engraved into our spiritual...

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“To what avail are scriptures etched on stones? If it’s true, we must feel it in our bones” Try to erase a page of history and you will leave no smudge words first printed concrete in time still hold true today Faith is the biggest Believer of all, it never budges you can meet Truth today just as well...

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The blind fiddler plays enrapt in his tune; His wife sits warm in the melody of a strange hearth; Their baby child does not cry; hunger is a constant song; The eldest son stands gripped by the fire's lyric of security ~ After bread and coin is received the vagabond family moves on. Art: The Blind Fiddler, nsteel engraving by John Burnett, 1806, after the painting by...

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Where true love may never part Amen one on one To all who have won Welcome to his stable Devine love he enabled Chosen divine Also drank of his wine We have conquered God holds this honor The eyes of the eagle to see far ahead God wisdom has said To know the path to follow May be hard yet narrow Those who chose wide Have not chose wise God...

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with years and tears _______________ June 28, 2021 Poetry/Footle/a name engraved Copyright Protected, ID 06-1367-488-28 All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France...

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On the human skin engraved And for long seconds watched by The Enslaved To the speechless delight of Spirit of the Eyes Brazenly walking away with a victory, giant-size: Self-pitying sighs From The Holy Ghost Not remembered at His invisible but nearby post. A great saver of precious Time Now becomes Time’s Reckless Spender, No longer valuing the accruing...

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