Mosaics Poems - Poems about Mosaics

Everyone I've ever loved Has left their mark on my soul On my body On my mind. Every time I speak Everything I type Every song I listen to Everything Without my loved ones Who am I? Without me They will still be them But without them I am nothing Is it too late? Too late to be me Or will I simply be them Until I die Being them is...

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I will no longer seek your gaze, no longer linger on the edge of silence, the absence stretching like a vast horizon. I will not reach for your warmth, no longer draw maps in the air of what we could be, the path winding like a whisper, echoing...

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I watched the projects taking shape, All varied in design – A tree, a flower, a giraffe, All different from mine. One displayed a pot of blooms, Another one huge eye, Each finished effort proving This was surely worth a try. With some guidance from our teachers, Grout was slathered ‘til it dried, Then we gently wiped it off And showed our artwork off with...

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Day 2 in my mosaics class, I started to improve, For once I had a subject, I could get into the groove. I sketched an owl like Flaco, Who was known in Central Park And it seems that all I needed To get going was a spark. Special tools helped cut the tiles, Which I glued onto a board As the project started taking shape, Progression...

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I am not artistic, but I signed up for a class To learn to make mosaics Out of little bits of glass. We studied some examples From a long-past ancient date Then received our own materials With which we could create. I watched my classmates jump right in, Ideas at their command, While staring blankly at the tiles And glue I had at hand. With paper and...

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MOSAICS multicoloured in different hues spotlit   visible elusive a little mysterious passionate insight  is enigmatic & cryptic & figurative yet frenetic to give  the impression of contemporary enchantment...

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Scarlet, crimson, vermillion, and cerise, replace canopies of emerald green. And the ground morphs into a golden fleece; as fallen leaves, yellow and tangerine, pave a pathway south for migrating geese. Autumn’s beauty oft takes one's breath away; like Spring; Fall's a magical time of year. And as colors and breezes interplay; orange mosaics suddenly appear, as fallen leaves get blown in disarray. Alabaster hoarfrost...

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Bidding a fond adieu, To silliness and harmful jokes. After all, in the end, we have hearts and are all human folks. It's cheap and easy, and shows the soul that lives in thee. Empty and rattling with pure arrogance for humanity. Those who you raise up doth show the very best in you. The multiple mosaics of God's universe reflecting with a clarity of view.               11-5-2020...

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We are merely montages, a mélange of endless stardust - - Finessing poetry 'round melodic sentiments, nuances manifested 'neath fractured mosaics of entities' indwelling harmoniousness amidst surrendered yesteryear's spellbinding prospective endeavors, we are but astral whispers on winds of prismatic illusions upon transcendence...

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