Nye Poems - Poems about Nye

Convalesced amongst peaks and valleys, Verdant and undulating over Afon Ebwy, I paid my way through the colliery With but a baker's dozen of years behind me. Seduced by the hanging-left red scare, I rejected ancient teachings and scripture For a life of advocacy, plagued with This body, my ever-failing vessel. Conscribed to compulsory service, My anatomy owned by some Great War, Though my...

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Mother is eighty-seven now still spry, sometimes naughty, espousing wisdom from her brow, her speech never bawdy. She always dried my tears, She always calmed my fears, She always cleaned up smears. Softly sing a lullaby, Mother will be leaving nye. For: QUIETUS (Jan 2022 edition) Poetry Contest Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker Syllable count checked at SyllableCounter.net January 25, 2022...

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Always Undeniable What I realize is always UNDENIABLE; With all of the rules should be compliable, And also truly trusted; Off my poems dusted; End up dependent upon as well as reliable. Jim Horn I am kind of on a limerick kick right now. My new goal is to write 4,000 poems and hope someone can make use of them...

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Undeniably and Knowingly Bill Nye. Have you ever been overcome by a book before While wondering what next for us is in store Darwin did say be strong avoiding infection While recognizing each use of natural selection. What I will do is frequently and on always rely Is Bill the Science Guy who we can never deny Who we determined without a doubt is...

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NATURE by Jeanette Jones based on the Portrait No. 2 of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) by Kathrine Nash Rhoades (1915) NATURE My feet, my feet chilled to the bone, as I sit, sitting here alone. Sharpening itself, the wind embraced; slicing a piece of me, starting at my face. Think not of cold, only hot,...

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NATURE based on the Portrait No. 2 of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) by Kathrine Nash Rhoades (1915) – (Edited by Debbi Guzzi My feet, my feet chilled to the bone, as I sit, sitting here alone. Sharpening itself, the wind embraced, Slicing a piece of me, starting at my face, Think not of cold, only hot,...

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This is an outstanding poem and thought that everyone should read it. I also copied the credits and author's name. Jim Horn Poem of the Day: Famous by Naomi Shihab Nye The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so....

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In my old calendar her yesterdays- in tears I reminesce...

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to where my girlzz at-- we got no memories to revise just revive and recognize-- our partying dayz, our girly wayz, the morning haze, the beach laze, boys to gaze, not givin' namez, and how we amaze, with nothing to faze us... now lets hear the yayz! hahaha!!! to my "homies"... er, Chicago's hot ladies ;-) Hope you raise some ruckus and have...

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