Postcard Poems - Poems about Postcard

Postcard perfect- a picturesque town Where the locals come to wind down A hidden gem, a park of simplesse An oasis, heavenly, it's beauty bequests An art form to behold, a sculpture; nature's showpiece Serene and tranquil in the heart of the city A stream lined with a plethora of trees Every color showcased upon their leaves A vast variety, Each the opposite...

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Unforgettable Baguio Strawberry field Rainy day biking. ...

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Off to the cabin on the lake for a much need rest Time to get away and experience nature at its best The SUV is loaded let the journey begin The kids in the back all with big grins After a long and tiring drive time to put my feet up and kick back Dinner by the campfire, but...

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I when the world had no headsets the sunbathing crowd fell asleep to the sounds of transistors played loud while the deckchairs and windbreaks kites, beach balls and more formed the stripes, lines and circles that painted the shore and the longer I walked on the sand to that sea the more the sea seemed to get further from me and the crunch in my mouth was that one...

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To all our best friends in the world... Postcard By Michelle Morris 18/01/2021 We've been best friends all our lives, So many experiences from joy to crying; And I guess when all is said and done, You've been my person, always, You've been my number one... So now that you're leaving, I'll hold your hand in mine; I promise you...

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Beyond my Grecian villa walls of stone a great bridge does cross the river’s divide, and the Maroochy water’s gentle groan concentrates my mind betwixt moon and tide. Where over burning canefields black soot ash on an east wind past my balustrade blows, and big pelicans the riverine splash their pink dive pouch longbills...

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Dear Mariam, I’m sending you a button from my cotton shirt And a Pinecone; that I coloured blue, last autumn. I also coloured my room, blue. Your shawl, ruined by barbed wires; can I have it? It reminds me of the blue veins on your snowflake breasts. Boot stomps on your wooden door, They can’t smell the tender grass on your feet. I...

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Dear All Hot today. Hired a car. Took to hills. Travelled far. Narrow road. Never ends. Sweat on wheel. Hairpin bends. Glanced at temp. Glanced at fuel. Aircon found. Turned to cool. Island sun. Not like ours. Single track. Other cars. Parked at top. Lovely sight. Valleys. Vineyards. Left and right. Church looks out. Opened door. Spanish writing. Walls and floor. Candle...

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Penny Postcard, Wrong Address by Michael R. Burch (for the victims and survivors of the Holocaust) We saw their pictures: tortured out of our imaginations like golems. We could not believe in their frail extremities or their gaunt faces, pallid as our disbelief. They are not with us now ... We have: huddled them into the backroomsofconscience, consigned them to the ovensofsilence, buried them in the mass graves of circumstancesbeyondourcontrol. We have so little left of...

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Went to a postcard show today Capitalism in action! Picked up some nice cards One dealer - whose parents were Holocaust survivors Gave me a break on the price Another collector at the show was an old Army buddy of my father Used to work for him at shows He sold his collection for six figures!! Used...

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Looking at the painting, toned thorough and strong Pure death of a lonely soul, last hour theme, so long! I was trying to grasp what I saw, and I do not know why I was not a critic of art; I never felt I would ever try! I kept on looking and looking, beyond all what I was...

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We saw their pictures: tortured out of Our imaginations like golems. We could not believe in their frail extremities or their gaunt faces, pallid as Our disbelief. they are not with us now; We have: huddled them into the backroomsofconscience, consigned them to the ovensofsilence, buried them in the mass graves of circumstancesbeyondourcontrol. We have so little left of them, now, to remind US ... Originally published in the Holocaust anthology Blood to Remember....

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The countryside looked like a Christmas postcard, Spruces were covered with snowflakes . Looked like God's painting, There were tracks in the snow where friends had walked. Skiers ascended the mountain and skied down swiftly, Skateboarders came and went, You admired their ability to caress the slopes, What a complex sport this is. Cross country skiers left their prints in the snow, They wore...

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sky darkens as fuji grumbles ~ signing last postcard AP: 1st place 2020 Posted on June 4, 2018...

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I have worked for a postcard dealer who has since retired from the hobby Postcard shows are excellent for the nostalgic So is some poetry As a collector I have plenty of cards with poems on...

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