Hewn Poems - Poems about Hewn

... after "Do not go gentle into that good night", by Dylan Thomas Age can not scour away the furrowed gnarls time obeyed, Nor mask the snarls, gouged as trenches on brows. Grace knurls t......

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... Big Ben chimes again With Bazball zen One of those men From special stock Shepherd of the flock Hewn from strewn Volcanic rock From New Zealand's Southern Isle But only there for a wee whi......

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... Grace can't grind away the wrinkled gnarls time obeyed, Nor hide the snarls, ploughed as furrows in the brow. It carves the knurls for grip that age has disobeyed, To a shape what decrepit, flai......

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... Meandering meadows broken by a tossing garbling brook…strewn..rocks hewn embossing...marbling and moss flossing Awoken whispers spoken..cantankerous coughing eddy wheezes..then a curmudgeonly ic......

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...Ambient breeze Caressing dead erroded figures Gently hewn impressions jest knowingly Laughing madly now only pitied Quieted remaing stagnant Tired useless vessles ° Weathered xylography ......

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... If the moon should disappear, And the sea forget her sway, Would you still walk beside me, When the stars have lost their way? Would the tides grow still and hollow, Would the cliffs no long......

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...While walking with intrusion upon the light of morn I stumbled across a field of thorns The ghastly things were everywhere Standing erect and poised without a care The field was devoid of other......

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...A mate of Musk, I’m told I’m going soon (if NASA still exists, this side of June): the lack of oxygen might make me swoon - my rear end is as puckered as a prune! I feel I ought to leave a happy ......

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... Hunger for perfectly placed punga path Snakes surely slowly..garlanded scarf Turns & rakes fern festooned forest floor Sun dappled glade, bathed and swathed Glorious green sheens in ......

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... “Concrete Hearts, the Deep End Keys and the Miniaturist's Poetry of Sleep” Following the Babel paths, where footprints progress like rough-hewn braille, temptation shows i......

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...If poetry channels our anger and sorrow Who then will want to write it tomorrow And will joy and contentment stifle its future? And what will become of our stays and culture? I say poetry has b......

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...A scenic blue are ocean’s crested waves with tufts of white that spill in feathered sprays amidst the troughs and valleys of the sea. Will time or tempest bring God back to me? Horizons hold n......

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...I stand on leaves, dead My toes entwine skeletal remains of shells, bones, limbs and all stuff, dead. I sleep on cotton sewn from cotton buds, dead. My bed is hewn from trees sawn up, dead. The ......

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... “The Juniper Prize: Between the Known and the Unknown” That man built a house of straw and sticks and the stories that burned within - all consuming the titled prize; ......

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... In the splendorous sky of my ardent heart, shimmering with lazuline glow of indigo art, as you gleamed like the tinsels of the moon, I tried to absorb your sapphire sheen hewn, but ......

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