Fear Poetry Poems

How about some delicious tea
I want it with crackers and brie
Honey is very sweet
Better than sweaty feet
I got bit by a yellow bee



That bee just...

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Things i wanted to say
But never did
Kept my emotions to myself 
Lucky enough hearts aren't computers 
You can't crack the passcode
My heart is like a...

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Now you have gone away,
I have not much to say.
Remembering sitting on the bay, 
even when the big clouds were gray.
I know you could not...

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I went for my early morning run,
just me and my young son.
It was to be a lot of fun,
then home for a hot cross bun.
We...

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Well you know this old world that we live in,
is the only one we’re going to get.
Now I don’t know how you feel about it,
but...

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Nervous I sat,
waiting to be called.
I wasn’t sure what it was he said,
but it meant a lot to me.
Then I realized,
he was not talking to...

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Where to run?
There's nowhere to go
Where to hide?
I can't go below

I cry, I cry
I sigh, I sigh

The world's a mess
As am I 
So when I'm...

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Poetry soup is an international site
that values the voices of different birth rights.
God created our world with it' varied cultures
and tongues.
I don't think he ever...

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Come on guys I really need to go.
My inside are about to blow,
This line is way too long,
No time to sing a song.
I am filled...

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"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life. The word is love." Sophocles, Greek Poet 

How is the tender word love...

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I love the end of the day,
when the sun wants to climb into bed.
The moon will be rising soon,
showing off it's big bright face.

 

The...

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Life is a short drive,
though the ways be long.
A journey twists and turns
before it can be made straight.

He drove many cars,
most had six windows.
in each...

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Quote By Poet: "Don't Let Books or Poems Become A Thing Of The Past."

A bookstore I can not pass up,
I need a new book I...

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Quote By Poet "The faces of pretty flowers will brighten anyone's day."

Here in a lovely garden we sit,
growing very close-knit.
Our faces of pretty color,
are bigger...

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Villanelle
by Michael R. Burch

Is poetry mere turning of a phrase?
Has prose become its height and depth and sum?
What happened to the songs of yesterdays?

Does prose...

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