Patch Poems - Poems about Patch

there's a second ocean sprawled like an accident, a spill of plastic guts and chemical veins choking what swims, suffocating the tides that once dreamed of moonlight and salt. we did this. with our coffee cups and straws, our six-pack rings, our shiny wrappers crumpled and forgotten. a monument to convenience, an altar to laziness, floating like the unburied dead on water too poisoned to sweep. somewhere out there, a bird...

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Pumpkin pie pumpkin spice Under black stars or blue skies Melting mouths in cheesecake Patches in the south where we play Kisses from your tangerine tongue In the pumpkin patch where sun Neon glows like holy soul...

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May we be blessed to treat everyone we meet in exactly the same way As if we’re offering them a sweet breeze and a patch of shade on the hottest summer day. ...

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She went to a pumpkin patch To carve her pumpkin from scratch But it came alive Because it had thrived From eating his unwilling catch ...

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My only niece Lonnie created sheer joy for me especially after i gave birth to two daughters Lonnie was indeed the boss of playtime visiting every summer being she was few years older than my girls she was very excited the summer of 1985 i was at least six months pregnant wearing wires buying weapons...

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. hoist it up mate fer she wakes ...

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I had heard about Cabbage Patch dolls, but now they are alive…. Growing in a garden near Winsted Ranch on Highway Five They parted their leaves and began giggling when they were ready Discovered last month by their benefactor, master gardener named Freddy. He was fretting at the time about whether he could keep his farm going. Not seeing at...

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Plunking two twin babies down in the berry patch now They are being stared at by some animals, namely a cow. She is watching them closely, more curious than a cat. They look up into her eyes and want to play patty-cake-pat. This spring air is great to get the twins ready for a nap. I should take one too,...

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From the thistle and vine From the thicket of thorn Into the light of the morning Out from the briar patch, gone In a flicker of light Into the glimmer of dawn Slipping out at the daybreak With the rise of the sun In the ticking of time From the clock on the wall Ring the bells of a new day...

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Plenty perfect pumpkin plants. Piles promote pickers; People preparing pumpkin pies. Porch provides pumpkin presentations ...plump, petite, pretty. Pumpkin products prove palatable....

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"Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers…" Every time I hear a kid recite this twisted rhyme, I'm 'minded how 'gainst Mother Nature it's a crime. What that peck of peppers was no one can tell, Perhaps banana, jalapeño, cherry, bell. But whate'er they were, it's plain, at least to me, That such a peck as that came off no...

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a clear definite disregard towards our relationship your smirks and twitches jives against our togetherness it revivals all those worded commitments centered around us as partnership these happenings creates divisiveness your aren't acting in the interest of your spouse then where does your loyalty lay I am neither first or mention in your concern wanr her: warn her my wife is a cucumber farmer Elle twerkait das un champ...

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Gold stone has learnt to stop asking why Many things just stared him in the eye: Simply means he should not in bed lie Or cock’s crow at dawn dismiss as lie, Soon leave his room taking along his tie And only after success face pie… Right now, a new business game to hatch, Age-old ideas and new ones to match, Ignore for...

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Barn owl gave up on finding a barn in Topeka country side. He kept finding one, but it was occupied by a groom or bride. A flower patch welcomed him, where he sat down and cried. Until another barn owl discovered him and welcomed him inside. Now he and his bride have a fine barn with a roof and...

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With stubborn readiness The blackbird has fled to another retreat through roaming hills with insurmountable readiness The bird in his lonely flight blood provides the heart with a fight In your verse the forest reflects just light out of the wood of grown thoughts To cut down by sharp axe Deep recess in your Trunk what memory is your patch...

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