Fresh(A) Poems - Poems about Fresh(A)

like a breath of fresh air... and all things considered, broadcast on national public radio Frequency: 90.9WHYY-FM, I (a liberal democrat) counted myself as an avid fan particularly listening to the prairie home companion during half life of mine arbitrarily referenced yardstick of one measly mortal male Matthew Scott Harris, whose chronological years athwart planet earth elapsed within figurative or literal eye blink, one humble human among rank and file cosmic flotsam and...

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Pain holds its insistence pressed against me I dream of a misty selfless new morn soft as maternal skin easing me free with a true smile to greet a sweet day born!...

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Checked by www.howmanysyllables.com>syllable_counter **************************************************************** Dew Fresh Morn ...

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On a fine spring morning saw dew drops GLEAM They shone like glass globules Some rested COOL on slender leaves of grass Gems they did SEEM But in time they vanished pliant to RULE! ...

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An ombré of coal black zinnia red across stygian sky metamorphose the stelliferous night when sunrays tread the dewy morn awakes red as a rose! Placed fifth VIBRATIONS FROM A VERSO Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud 25th July,2025 ...

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FRESH FRUIT NEEDED In peace’s awareness, let us sow new fertile seeds; reaping fruits thereof:- ...

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date sooth smooth honey taste fresh summer fruit sweet...

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In the forgotten garden of my heart, you are the fresh flower that blooms, A friend who lights my paths when storms caress my soul, No matter how many winds blow, you are the unmovable rock in time, Beside me always, like a lighthouse in an ocean troubled by dreams and shadows. You know me in my deepest, most...

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How much must I own to be free— A ring of gold, a single key? The stars are mine each cloudless night, The wind is mine in silent flight. I do not ask for halls of stone, Nor call a crowded place my own; A quiet room, a skyward tree, And that, I think, is wealth to me. The sea has never asked...

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H-ow A-re Y-ou D-oing E-very E-arly S-unlight, A-re N-ew T-houghts O-pening S-moothly? ©bfa052025 Monocrostic (Birthday of Haydee Santos)...

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M-ay A-nyone E-lse M-ake E-verything N-ew D-espite O-ld Z-one's A-ge ©bfa052125 Monocrostic (Birthday of Mae Mendoza)...

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d e e p blue sea f r e s h n e s s like the c o o l n e s s our love b ...

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fresh picked blueberries stimulate poetic pens ~ my muse just wants pie ...

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cherries are for me fresh picked or in a warm pie ~ red heaven awaits...

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The merry widow’s marvelous mincemeat melody Was gradually heard around three by the old oak tree Honestly said Bert, the bumblebee, is this the Grand Prix? Miraculously, there was a royal red revelry A chickadee landed on the right knee of Diana Dee Making her a friend in furious practicality Old oak tree receded into the loving forest canopy Forming a deliberate,...

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