Moulting Poems - Poems about Moulting

...{August is Woman’s Month in South Africa. August 9th is Woman’s Day. August 8th is an opening of the Lion’s Portal to Cosmic Strength. This poem is for all the Lion Hearted women who have crossed my ......

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...Early morning, while walking down the country road I saw a group of children, school bound in crisp uniforms Oh it is August, I suddenly remembered And the schools have opened after th......

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... "Dream Bug" Hour glass rainbows sparkling crystal grainy rapids sliding intrepidly through life’s fingers their coloured sands speak in to......

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...Time has flown away without the glimpse of your smile,A day of tons is like a day of Nothing Without that glaze from you.It feels like my dress has been torn and cannot be mended even if you were to ......

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...I thought my little mate the blackbird was being bullied by his flock maybe pressured to renounce our friendship his little yellow nose looked painfully pecked his tail short and dishevelled as h......

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...A frosty whitewash, whirling winter snow smoothly shrouds a secret silent slumber. Skies all awake, flying mosaics of row music chirps cavort the sunset amber. Gelid air turfs, chilled in birds o......

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... I brush for fifteen minutes my kitty, as she growls, wiggles and struggles and swats; all I want to do is make her pretty, I just need to get rid of a few knots. Oh, all that she......

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...Splat Explosions do not always signify combustion but often combustion arrives after many years of layering the layers and tightly packing. Thus meaning that a fried piece of fat could slip and bu......

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...Unquotable quotes: Writers – XXXVIII for Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra and Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoieski who let not even hope sustain them and who used their own last dro......

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... I brush for fifteen minutes my kitty, as she growls, wiggles and struggles and swats; all I want to do is make her pretty, I just need to get rid of a few knots. Oh, all that she......

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...earth I connect the earth to the painting, Footprints in the mud, Marble dust scratched, The soil is drawn up, vertically It can not be accessed any longer, And blocks the horizon.......

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...Who am I? Seeking absolution, I wander the alleyways of times gone by, awash with wasted regrets, I crawl into the yawning crevasse, clutching at straws as merciless time takes to ......

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...The Shedding of Skin. Parched lullabies seem jarring, gentle persuasion an assault, quiet understanding reeking of decay, fatigued under this skin in which I must stay. Dreams of moulting, sheddi......

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...When Tonight Arrives. When tonight arrives, yet another whiskey-soaked, hazy search for absolution commences, in nameless seedy dives, where loneliness offers solace, and self-pity thrives. Staring......

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...The Transparency of Selves. Transparently unseen, lonely souls walking on, slipping between raindrops, curling between folds of reality, twisting in dreary, worn-out skins. Moulting, peeling off, d......

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