Gosh Poems - Poems about Gosh

a whole manner of oodles saw stuff piled under a shelf a sofa on the ceiling and a light fitting on the floor there were gardens in the living room all his worth beyond the door he walked off to the north aloud opening a gate behind tipped his hat at Jupiter his shadow walked to the south passing statues in the street and words flew into his...

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Cooler than Arctic ice Yet, you warm the palette of my life With your nearly bluebell shades Layers of sifted sky Diluted into the tender grey clouds That slowly dance Towards tears of rain How my heart longs to know you As my life brushes past Your pure selfless pouring out Unaware, you resonate clarity; Enlighten with sobriety The lilting, vacant canvas Of my existence ...

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The night gnome from Gosh has the lightest blue eyes. They are lovely and deep, and full of dainty surprise. His clothes are made from the best threads of all. He might have been a king if he were just a bit tall....

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How many of youse guys remember these Well golly gee, holy cow, gosh darn, gee willikers Way back when they were naughty phrases Today the naughty words are maimers and killers How things have changed and getting uglier Mass shootings, targeted individuals, fire starters What's happened to the world we once knew Civility should be deleted from each transponder Golly gee and...

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Nauseous Natasha’s cautious sister Sasha’s posh boss Josh McIntosh from Osh Kosh Sloshed through the marshes sporting galoshes Looking for his lost hoss Ross By gosh...

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somehow i lost my way and i am happy so many small towns revitalize the universe of my soul and i am content i never want to fall asleep at the wheel for i am mesmerized i find internal solace with you externally riding beside me and i am satisfied...

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re-post inspired by Constance contest A METAPHYSICAL MUSE What thou lovest in her face is colour,if her face be painted on a board or wall, thou wilt love it.She speaks,smiles and kisses much. Because it is painted do you not behold with pleasure her painted face? Love her who shows her love to thee, in this smile , lovely to thee,all her...

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re-post inspired by Constance contest When ,she and I become we True love for us,may not be- 'til I love her,who loves me This Shakespeare style triplet was inspired by John Donne's phrase in 'Love's Deitie'...

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I could have been born anywhere to any kind of family or tribe for that matter. I could have been adopted or at least adopted a pen name. At some point in my life I've been to Paris. I could have studied ordinary things there but I don't want to think about ordinary things not then, not there, not now. I would have eventually...

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Oh my gosh darling, your eyes They shimmer in the darkness, but remain pale in light How is it possible that they could mask everything How can you control them to do your bidding... I wondered why your eyes were so shiny at night But why, in the morning, the glisten was gone The shimmer that your tears created The shimmer that...

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Mad As A Hornet - Gosh Darn It! So you're angry because I burned the toast? Don't you stand there and keep screaming at me. That's what really matters to you most? I'm gonna explode on the count of three. If you'd help get the kids ready for school I'd have more time to fix a decent meal. Instead, you rant and...

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Oh my gosh it’s almost Easter Time to get off my fat keister. To buy a dozen eggs, or more Coz now there’s five kids over four. And one of them always cries Painting eggs with stupid dyes. I almost forgot the candy bars; Who needs new brakes for the cars? I don’t have time to talk to you Where are the peeps or...

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And there he was all dressed in black Stuffing the baby in his sack His pants below his waist, do-rag on his head And below his hat, Santa had a dread He was a rough-tuff, buff man Rings on his fingers and tattoos on his hand His sleigh was tricked out It was a black and gold mustang with an engine that...

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Sweltering sun on your tea stained skin such a sensual aphrodisiac, pungent wafts of fresh worked soil scorching my sandy soles, brackish trickle between ample breasts now heavy bellied with desire, brooding for but a single kiss bestowed by burnished brow. Let loose your laborious implement, languidly lie with me my love, where last autumn’s littering lingers still, liberate my lustful lips. Carelessly...

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