Nightingales Poems - Poems about Nightingales

...I was an experienced interior designer, whose specialty was outer doors, Ever opening to amber sunshine, as petals open, when vivid beams pour. Functionality and beauty were very vital, s......Read the rest...

...D-ream of your love when she is frail and old, A-nd know her love for you will never change, N-urture the gifts she brings and always hold, I-mmersed in life's love which is preordained, E-ach l......Read the rest...

...As the sun gently parts the sleepy clouds It casts hopeful rays upon the brand new day Banishing the shadows of the night That had ensnared the hopeful soul The morning breeze as it blows gentl......Read the rest...

... Sculpting The Breeze When the last remnants of sands have passed, And the singing nightingales, no longer heard, Unaware the roaring river runs swiftly past, The cobwebbed lat......Read the rest...

...The moon dances on lonely nights, to astral beams of the clear quartz milky way~ I lay in an olive meadow designed in fragrant promises, hidden between thorns and thistles disguised as......Read the rest...

...They struggle with a violent grace, the bawdy cries of a bandoneon, the open gash of her torn stocking. They both understand that naked desires come last, first there is this ceremony, the ri......Read the rest...

...I was a college music teacher, engaged in pitch, tempo, rhythm and melody, As lavish planets dance around a golden star, with the zeal of fuchsia fidelity. I taught harmony, vocals and singing, a......Read the rest...

...In your open palm, lay down celestial rivers for me, Where the earth ends in a deathless dream, From your gaze, as wide as the sea, adorn me with stars, And in your primal word, set the gate......Read the rest...

...I was a world famous fashion designer, and quite enraptured with the new, Like first caress of pink, peach dawn light, smiling at the full moon's taboo. I adored laboring with colors I loved, in ......Read the rest...

...all the stuff going on that motel was heating up but the locksmith didn't speak Irish too well & besides he got drunk & robbed the wrong merry-go-round anyway... Sigh Banal as it might seem, it's ......Read the rest...

...There are forgotten fords, in the shadow of our silence, places within us that cry out in waiting, A path that flows through the waters of memories, the river of life carries us through hidden valle......Read the rest...

... Music is an undying art of soul ~ an abstract eden, where, euphonious unicorns glide in strawberry sonatas, amplifying rhapsody in ballads of flight, when fuchsia feathers tease......Read the rest...

... "Life is a song," I find it intriguing, how often the roads we journey upon allude to lyrics like variant moods of songs. Some days I endeavor to sing, but the words come out all wrong. ......Read the rest...

...When nature wilts into a colorless haven, metaphors of death sprout from timeless roots~ easing through relentless gales of grief. Like the lulling......Read the rest...

...That one lost their tongue somewhere along the way long ago, the sound, doesn’t come out the same anymore, so they roll it up like a carpet containing a nakedly dead body of blunt words li......Read the rest...