Hand Crafted Poems | Examples

Flower jewels

daisy chain delights
exquisitely hand crafted,
delicate trinkets

When The Darkness Falls

It’s colder now and seems somehow
more empty than before.
I wish I’d known the future then,
and what it held in store.
No longer is there will of heart
to venture form these walls,
and so I sit alone inside…
when the darkness falls.

Each stone hand crafted for the cause
to block away the pain.
The mortar mixed to guarantee
no feeling will remain.
A mist enshrouds the inner grounds,
with siren’s voice it calls.
To comfort as I drift within…
when the darkness falls.

A subtle shift and weightless drift
are all that’s left to feel.
No sign of any signs of life,
no sense of what is real.
Just drifting, drifting ever on
down never-ending halls.
Forever locked inside my head…
when the darkness falls.

Socialite Charity Event

This years most prized 

Hottest ticket above all

Red carpet 

Socialite Charity Event

The Guest list comprised of the

Who's , who amongst the elite

Those who are actually in the know

And the conversation in between

3* Star Michelin dinning courses

Drifted into the aristocracy saying

Rather than let the poor and needy

Starving and going hungry

Eat cake instead

Of stale old mouldy bread

Whilst congratulating one another

Sipping and raising a toast

On Vintage Champagne

Costing over $2k a pop

Which cost no where near as much

As their designer bespoke suit

Hand crafted jewellery

Or Watch

And you don't even want to know

Just how much the actual price of the

Ticket cost

Because that will surely

Take the Cake

And prove exactly just how entirely

Fake this all in fact is

And who truly benefits

From Charity most above all

Letter Old Fashioned

If I have the time I'll write a letter old fashioned and serene

Hand crafted silk coated paper from my smouldering memory box

Let time stand still switch of the phone and turn back the clocks

Caress my pen and stroke the message to give it some sheen


As if on its own the quill releases memory gaps at the court of kin

Scratches the bottom of an ink pot in weary calligraphed weeping

Pauses for smudged words and tackles guilt which was sleeping

Uncensored and honest it resists to crumble the pages into the bin


Sentences assemble under an onslaught of consciousness' streams

Clouds of doubt loom large and write over the margin at both sides

Why on earth did we have to argue so much in belligerent nights

Until exhaustion won the battle of opinions and unfulfilled dreams


I'm not convinced any longer we strove for truth decisive and brave

Egos hindered a more peaceful exchange of generational disputes

Grounded in self-righteousness that poisoned love at vulnerable roots

Today I mourn those wasted moments and post an apology to your grave



26th December 2019

Christmas Markets

How I love this time of year
When Christmas markets beckon!
All major cities have them
And some small towns, too, I reckon.

The festive booths display their wares,
A lot of them hand-crafted,
Their quality assuring you
That no, you won’t get shafted.

From jewelry (my favorite)
To ceramics, hats and leather,
The dealers ply their products
In whatever kind of weather.

For now’s the time that people buy – 
The ornaments and mittens
And toys and t-shirts, socks and mugs
Adorned with pups or kittens.

Of course, there’s hot mulled cider
Paired with donuts, for such offers
Keep shoppers warm and cozy,
Tempting them to fill the coffers.

Today I splurged on earrings
Though I’m often quite contented
To just browse and see what’s out there,
All so very well-presented!

It Fell

It Fell
						    by susan Q miller © 2014
							
It fell,
            Something hard
		Off the shelf
			Without warning,
				Breaking what lay beneath,
			  		 A favorite green bowl, a hand-crafted half-orb
						Made by these hands.
				     
This vessel 
        once held my morning sustenance.
 		Now its fragments 
			Lay scattered at my feet.

I am not shattered.
	 Gathering the shards 
                  Of something once whole and precious to me,
			I am reminded of how fragile life is
					And that nothing lasts forever.

Writer Mourning

Writer
Of positive words, a lover of spirituality, teaching,  and art.
I have three sons, two daughter in-laws, and six grandchildren that live close.  
I love everything that is pure of nature, antiques, and hand-crafted art.
I feel heartbreak, pain, and love.
I fear being left alone, forgetting everyday simple tasks, and getting lost. 
I would like to visit other countries, Sistine Chapel, peace on earth. 
Resident of Texas.
Mourning.


1/12/2019


Poetry Contest: Writing Challenge 2, January 2019, Bio 
Sponsored by: Dear Heart

The Antique Store

Browsing through families memories, 
That we can never know. 
Amoung the Heirlooms meant to be, 
Decendents, now no more. 
A cherished piece of crystal, 
or china fine and rare.
Hand crafted mirrored Dresser, 
or velvet Queen Ann chair.
Memories of lives and families. 
The sum of them no more. 
Stored away as aging Relics, 
In this little Antique store.

Happy Happy Birthday Carl-Oscar Karlsson

Happy Happy Birthday Carl-Oscar Karlsson

To the SUPER-NATURAL MULTIPLE DIMENSIONAL Designer
with the most
SOUL-REACHING VISUAL ART  
let me say 
Happy Happy Birthday to you 
i lift up my glass with a
LYRICAL Toast
just as
ENGAGINGLY HAND CRAFTED AND SKILLED
As to say to you 
I hope you have a
Happy Happy Birthday
that only a
Designer and Artist at ELAKFORM
(Address: Klostergatan, 352 31 Växjö, Sweden
Phone: +46 73 310 62 20)
like you can do 
Happy Happy Birthday
to a 
MYSTICALLY GIFTED ORIGINAL DESIGNER 
as  FASCINATING AS YOU ARE SENSATIONAL ARTISTIC 
and INCREDIBLE  INVENTIVE 
as THE ONE AND ONLY CARL-OSCAR KARLSSON  
BELOVED DESIGNER AND ARTIST

by:verlecia fields
aka: lyricvixen

Purple Lips

Her lips are purple with words
that crown and not demean;

Her mind is laced with golden threads of 
thoughts seamed into rational words;
on them are actions like embroideries,
hand crafted by wits above sweaty brows,
by wisdom above hard labour.

Her purple lips is beyond the shade of a purple lipstick 
Smudged on her lips while she gazed at reflection in a mirror,
But it is a shade of her femininity beyond just being pretty.

Faith, Hope and Love and the Greatest of These Is Love

Faith, hope, and love--and the greatest of these is LOVE
(1 Corinthians 13:13)


Love is a word that is difficult to define
Hand crafted by God from the beginning of time
He created this wonderful world for man
So we could love one another and live by his plan 

It has the healing power to drive away pain
Even just a smile would bring a broken heart gain
It is an emotion which man can hardly live without 
And though it is FREE, it’s scarce and circled in doubt

As sunshine makes the flowers flourish
The warmth of love takes away man’s anguish
Keep hatred away as it bears a great weight
Instead spread love wherever you can show it.

We can learn a few tips from the animal kingdom
Where sharing, kindness, caring, loving are random
Prestige, power, riches may have a significant part
But we are nothing if we have no Love in our hearts.

A Special Place

shifting and swirling wind 
biting cold 
first light coming around the bend
illuminating each crevice and every fold 

the kind of silence that makes a sound
lone bird on a branch
snow drifts by the pound 
snow falling by happenstance 

misty mountains revealed 
herds slowly moving through the tree line 
lit by the yawning morning sun shield 
mountain mornings are one of a kind

trees coated in snow
all saplings and greenery lying doormat beneath the layers 
not till' summer will they show
held in the clutches of winter's strong grip, quiet prayers 

hips and spines hand crafted by the creator 
silent, long since frozen creeks 
views, there are none greater 
lone, stalwart peaks

silent cathedrals of glistening light
grand columns amongst the cloud caps 
granite faces of extraordinary might
white tipped tree caps 

taciturn sequoias standing tall
guarding the valleys 
and watching the glistening sprawl
among backwood alleys

I'D Rather You Natural

I understand you’re insecure but why you gotta put that make up on
Ya beautiful, its true I ain't stunting, I ain't trying to con
Don’t run away from who you are, it’s the way you were born
Personally hand crafted by the man upstairs
He’d want you to be yourself
You’re unique, you ain't like every other book on the shelf
What’s underneath ya front cover
Let me see what’s under that powder and eye liner
It's true I want to open you up and read you up 
Every page I turn to you getting finer and finer
God damn you got me tripping
I ain't the smartest around here but that’s saying something
Girl put that make up down
I’m being honest with ya ain't trying to make you frown 
I know you’re insecure but I’d rather you natural

Beauty In Imperfection

The rugged bark of an old tree
with imperfection due to its cracks
is a wondrous thing of beauty
and it's the imperfection that attracts

We know that a star-shaped flower 
does not make a perfect star
Yet it has a certain loveliness
that induces a sense of wonder

A hand-crafted ceramic bowl
because of its asymmetry
is a wonderful artefact
that is valued very highly

An old-time cobblestone street
has a unique charm and quaintness
due to its imprecise pattern
that gives it its loveliness

Perfection is not easy to attain
and even more difficult to sustain
Beauty lies in Imperfection
and they are a natural combination

Halloween City Style

Which - 'Witch' is which :)
 when a Bat doesn't need a ball to fly home,
 can’t tell a Black Kat from a black cat in Rome 
 a wood bat has no wings to hit one homer,
      havin' fun, can't stay home alone
 
   Which Jack Lantern beats a Pumpkin 
 in one’s store hands-down:) a hand crafted,
 one set alone...over any other lit in a window 
             at someone's home, 

   Witch screams from a 'mat' is louder... 
 than a cat, or 'Kat's Tale' when stepped on 
       then asked 'What is the mat-ter' 
                       [Or-One] 

 Witch's hungry howls for a 'Black Kat' 
       thirsty to mugg some new Witch... 
 costumed 'City Kat' on some 'White block', 
   draped in a black cape, on a  black pitch
  night, not Knight, all out of candy hard rock
                        'meow',
 
  Which U hear- Ghostly bats or Witch's HELLO? 
 'WhO' me or BOO; on Fright Night’s city streets, 
     Witch Trick's or treat for pumpkin sweets... 
   which is, also known, in our City as Holloween.

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