Proses Poems - Poems about Proses

...The mystic bay channels my every emotion moving slowing throughout tunnels and vessels of my mind tampering with my infamous glow my tangible smile gathering mirth as i am quite taken wit......

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...He conjures pretty poems and proses, but something in the wicked wind forewarns, In his eyes, a sea of roses, in his flesh, the pain of thorns.   A child, swinging gaily on the beach, in back, ......

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...The most beautiful proses or poems Were divinely dictated by the Almighty. I'm not immersing in some profound dreams. Needless to say, I'm neither inebriated not crazy. Believe me, just like th......

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...Reminiscing through the album of perpetuity, I came across a thorn that kissed my skin, and murmured into my soul, a powerful stance, stitching soft whispers in exquisite cadence. The thorn tr......

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...That day that way we met the nightingale sang while whooping cranes bowed their heads the sun danced between the blue skies as the clouds rushed by I remember that day that way you walk......

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...The longing for beloved, like a moth longing for flame, extinguishing it's own fire, admiring it's own pain, with the bejeweled beauty of stars and moonlight     I find you engulfed in the scent ......

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...Stop taking. just take a minute to stay still. A calm mind is what I crave. The very bliss of life. Although with out thought there is mistake. To much thought and your mind goes blank. Where i......

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...Captain of the most distant islands living poem among my proses that each one was exchanging for roses with moonlight and wandering mornings II You loved as few have loved with sea madness an......

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...Red proses reluctantly fall. All of its thorns spike every fault, In a carnage only you and I call, Now locked in my love-torn vault. Imprisoned writings of lore, Will finally give way To the......

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...Storyteller weaves his tales throughout my mind and heart. He alchemies my leaden days into golden thoughts. We soar above the shrinking earth on word-filled wings at night, glide on intellec......

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...I'm a writer, a sucker for flowery words Creating poetry and proses I can afford, Then we met and everything changed My mind went idle, empty in a snap Hands frozen, heart trembling, begging to ......

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...Here I am-- again Grabbing my pen, scribbling my pain Into bleeding and excruciating words That might end up killing me. Damn, I need to let this out! I need to release all the dramas and doubt......

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...Simple or fancy? Sordid or prance-y? Lily or roses? Tiptoes on proses? What kind of poem will my mind see today? What will happen if I stop to pray? Trixie, my muse, is laughing right now. She......

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...My Muse! My muse is not an imaginary being made up by ancient civilizations saying that inspiration for everything comes from supernatural beings different ones assigned to different things inst......

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...It was a magical time. It was youth and exuberance; It was excitement and discovery; it was innocence. It is now just memory, ah, but once it was the reality of sunshine and butterflies. The seeming......

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