Frees Poems - Poems about Frees

I wanted to be a dancer when I was a little girl. The magic, beauty of dance stayed in me. Dance makes me groove and show off my graceful move. Ooh, when I go dancing out there. I feel I am free and in a magical place, Self-expressing feelings. So “Let that rhythm get into you” Showing the beauty to...

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Day ends to be eve, And mounting come memories Gloomy heart to grieve. Yet, sets in when late eve’s breeze, From tether frees tied up ease. O thou late eve’s breeze, What if ye come all alone Without memories, To let me linger till dawn When pleasant dreams play nigh prone. _____________________________ Tanka |04.04.2024| evening, memories, dreams ...

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“And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves.” - Virginia Woolf Crisp October passes into November, Risking the silence that seems to be promising… A whisper of peace, secret comfort, like faith Erasing all the nights when moonlight washed away… The still, cool reflections of glistening stars, Peppered with...

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That was A Nasty from you, The Coarsest from a shrew; Men who’d ignore it few To over it lengthily chew … Your Upper Lip I might’ve attacked And The Lower just swollen, As through you’d my pockets ransacked And my valuables stolen ... Your utterances you’d made To, perhaps, lower my grade Their message, that of The Afraid That my fame will never fade: Gibbers...

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Playing frees the mind up, and lets it scatter in the wind, Zooming onto pirate ships, enjoying every single spin. Playing keeps the heart young, with aluminum foil hats. Painting, dancing, leaping, skipping, enjoying baby cats. When work is a pain, pulling you down, making you sad. It is time to get over this, and feel some intense glad. If there...

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I cross the darkest bridge of emotion A sparrow small fighting a lonely storm Salt filled traces fall wet in slow motion To circle my sadness after they form And lay on the long arch spanned to your eyes They carry me far from my dim-lit cell Where I was shackled to my sad disguise Till' your wondrous love released me from...

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Waking to a promising morn, refreshed from healthy brand new sleep, you will realize all kept, old scorn that you have yet to cleanly sweep. You will sip pain in your coffee, spy it all day sharing your seat. When allowed, anger will vent spree through thoughts in a constant repeat. Anger feeds when you sit to dine, lathers as you take a shower, shows...

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Iambic Heptameter Couplets (fourteen syllables--seven unstressed--seven stressed) scansion of first line: a/LIT/tle/TA/ken/IN/the/MID/dle/'TILL/you/HAVE/e/NOUGH unstressed syllables: a/tle/ken/the/dle/you/e - seven unstressed syllables STRESSED SYLLABLES: LIT/TA/IN/MID/TILL/HAVE/NOUGH - SEVEN STRESSED SYLLABLES AND FREE'S YOUR ROBOT MIND (little wisdoms) A little taken in the middle 'till you have enough: but if you lose it at the limit things get kind of rough. Then tides begin to rise...

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