Folklores Poems - Poems about Folklores

...THE BEAUTY OF BEING A POET ANY DISABLED SEVEN CAN REACH MANY READERS BEING A POET ISN'T TAUGHT IN A UNIVERSITY IT COMES FROM THE SOUL THE HEART AND SOUL OF THE SMALLEST HUMAN BEINGS T......

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...RUMORS USUALLY BEGAN BY SOMEONE SO FIXATED ON ANOTHER PERSONS LIFE IT COULD BEGAN ON THE SCHOOL YARD SOMETHING AS SMALL AS BEING JEALOUS THAT YOUR CLASSMATE HAS A SHINING NEW INK PEN WITH A BIG PINK ......

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... (A lone old male voice whispers to his loyal dog) She came at midnight Last night You know As the fireflies outside in our winter garden Glowed In a red dress of moving red lips that ......

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...Fear no ghosts, nor demons in the night, Nor werewolves, or shadowy spirits of light. It's men I fear, whose hatred knows no end, Whose rage and prejudice no bounds defend. Fear not for rakshasas......

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...Downfall of Lucifer from heaven having sinned Against God or is it the planet Venus at dawn, Yesteryear’s mythology or today’s scientific fact? Story of man is made up of myths and folklores Tain......

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...My friend - I’ll call her Brandi - asked where do you get all your candy? I said you may find this hard to believe, but I always keep a few Twix up my sleeve. I read about buccaneers in histor......

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... I once was a sea lavender star, soaked in sunsets, draping evenings with soft yarns of hydrangea haze ~ before you stole me from those sangria skylines like a windswept wave, and ......

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...You and I, we are, two polar petals, laced with arctic blue moonshine of soft sweven-hymns and sunburst apricity of aqua-gold tides, reminiscing mauve hours, when our love waltzed in teal ......

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...Oscans, Ligures and the Apuli as known Ancient Greek, Samnitics, Sicanis and Celt Indigenous tribes, one people with love grown Capodanno Fiorentino o'er lands dwelt Wine appellation of Sangio......

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...My Mother, like many saints, is compassionate, Though lion-like, my father is considerate; Like banyan tree, my family is well-branched out, Grandmas, Grandpa, Uncles, Aunts - all are good; no dou......

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...So, when do photographs become memories? When the bulb flashes or when ink fades to sepia? Time is accused of causing the most painful of injuries, so, when do photographs become memories? Nostal......

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...EULOGY TO MRS (Ph.D) ALIHAJA, AMINAT OLABOOPO I From ‘Asabari’, I stand on the moon Blowing the flute of ‘Okere’ Telling the tale of your heroic arrival. ......

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...Zephyr carried fragrance from yonder lands Sussuration during frondscence of my dreams Rainbow ballads upon dewy petals Soft sunrays splash down on shy petals ......

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...I like black color and paper boats, elderly people, old homes, month of November, broken dreams, sad stories and deep silence after them... I like my childhood, honest friends, my bag and old pen,......

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...In ancient looms of my homeland, Fairies once shuttled across threads of rainbows Weaving folklores of gods and goddesses. Our tapestry needed no haberdashery of Brabubahanas and Chitrngadas or......

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