Ross Poems - Poems about Ross

Ross, the book reader was full of ideas for more books. Many called him elf man, I called him Crazy Crooks. His job was to read all day and entertain the night life. Regaling us with interesting stories so big, bold and bright. I want that book, many other elves said to the boss. He laughed at them, knowing they...

Continue reading...

trees and barns painted mountains and ponds added in picture comes alive...

Continue reading...

The missus unflagging crocheting efforts as Betsy Ross incarnate With needle in hand incorporating love in every single crochet stitch that's my wife tad more'n a quarter century ago then newlywed to yours truly slowly, magically but inexorably transforming skein of yarn into requested end product of her tastefully done choice. Eventual inchoate objective will become transformed into miniature flag of Puerto Rico (regarding country of origin the...

Continue reading...

Some become a boss And it is an achieved loss, Their misconducts much gross, No more touching of Christ’s Cross! Some become a boss And it hits their moss: Travelers by mysterious force, Often wanting to run a course. Yes, some emerge a boss And they’re an incarnated horse To all of us A-To-Catch bus. I once was a boss, And began to my head toss, As though listening...

Continue reading...

Phoebe Buffay Plays her guitar every day She often sings ‘Smelly cat’ Sadly her voice is very flat Ross Geller Is quite a nerdy feller He said Rachel’s name when he got wed His bride Emily probably wished him dead! Ross and Pheobe starred in Friends Clerihew 2 Poetry Contest Sponsored by Joseph May 09/30/21...

Continue reading...

Grief; Stages 1 & 2: “Bargaining and Denial” Maybe I should offer up a sacrificial lamb Or simply look the other way and just not give a damn. Perhaps it’s best to squeeze the odds; trust luck will turn the game And wager that a bargain with the Devil ends the same. What I do or do not...

Continue reading...

(1942-1995) when my husband was sick with cancer i spent every moment by his side one memory i cherish dearly happened late one night when we came across a series of the joy of painting episodes in spite of the late hour we watched three episodes in a row mesmerized by the soothing meditating voice of our host we couldn’t get enough of absorbing the calm...

Continue reading...

a grassy knoll no a sunny space a quiet Storm just a sample of a blade of grass As well a sample of a purple flower lived live from the place of her physical rest yet her spirit has risen it's crest as it's supposed to be she was my mother Annie Bell Lee A verse DEDICATED...

Continue reading...

It's not your conversation That keeps me entertained But rather the way you look at me That makes me feel sustained It's the curve of your lips And the curl of your hair T'is all of the little things That makes me stop and stare It's not your intelligence That drew me close to you It is not your sense of humor That has thrown me...

Continue reading...

To the Redcoats Betsy Ross lied. “It is not a flag!” she decried. “I'm due at a wedding and all of this threading will be a new gown for the bride!” “But it isn't just one little dress,” with nose growing she had to confess, “A collection I've planned-- t'will sell big in the land-- at my discount stores, Ross Dress for Less”!...

Continue reading...

Nature has a delicate way toward softening the mighty blow. "Bob Ross & Trees" extends as a delicate potrait as the basis toward the piece. Each of us has a unique encounter in having are names up in lights. All too often we fall short in the process. As Ross had his delicate way of speaking approach it...

Continue reading...

Her life turned upside down, endless chorus of tears, jilted she hoped he would stop in the name of love. What was once endless love was now songs full of fears. Her baby love left her lost like a lonesome dove. Jilted she hoped he would stop in the name of love, pleaded you are my everything, remember me. Her baby...

Continue reading...

Ross holidayed as a kid once at Center Parcs, Where he first played the sport of table tennis, And he loved it so much ‘cos he was so good, That a member of staff remarked on his ability. He was successful, ranking in the world top ten, But later, in 2011 he was genetically diagnosed, With...

Continue reading...

“A ONE MS. M. ROSS” I’ve written her before but there has been no response. I wrote her a second time and again, there was no response. she opens and never replies. she’s a basketball fan sporting the gear, red lipstick and a smile that confuses the confused. I post my poetry online sometimes and she...

Continue reading...

I just started reading or should I say re-reading a book by the late, great poet Kenneth Koch. It's called "I Never Told Anybody" and it's all about teaching poetry in a nursing home. It's really good. One of the poets who really shone at the American Nursing Home was a man named William Ross. The first time I read the book, I assumed he was...

Continue reading...