Rows Poems - Poems about Rows

They do not march now, but they still stand-- shoulder to shoulder in quiet granite lines. Each flag breathes like a memory fluttering in the hush between heartbeats. They are not just names, not just dates-- they are echoes of last letters, mud-heavy boots, songs sung beneath a foreign sky. We walk between them, heads bowed, and feel the weight of freedom we never had to earn. This silence is not...

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Love is not an orderly garden where flowers grow in perfect rows, but a wild field where flowers dance in the wind without rules or boundaries, a force that takes deep root in the hidden corners of the heart, where desires are born from old longings and forgotten dreams, a pulse of the soul, spreading entwined among rocks and...

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Noise Noise is not anger. Noise is not aggression. Not like my father shouting My sister crying and my mother. Moaning and me begging For the noise to stop The rows to subside. For peace to reign. Noise can be satisfying. Like a Ferrari exhaust. A plane roaring down the runway Best of all passion And the purr of the cat. Yet noise still affects me A cold shower that...

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IN THE GARDEN Plant Flowers Marigold Splash of bright orange Shades of red roses A bed full of pansies Don't forget rows of sweet peas Hyacinth and daffodils too Lilacs and Lilies fill up a space Fragrance and beauty grow in my garden Copyright, Kathryn Search...

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The Relevance of Last Winter David J Walker The acrid odor of a Butane fueled space heater Seemed better than freezing In the sub-frigid air of a February prairie ...

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the winding road is cold my darling there are footprints here and there in the new fallen white- your flowers have blown away among the snowy rows ...

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1st Grade With Miss Harvison at Thatcher Elementary David Walker I Miss Harvison’s smile greeted each taker of An assigned seat of big kids desks in our very first First Grade class at Thatcher Elementary It was early in September after a Long summer and a Successful year of half-day kindergarten The beginning of numbered grades All...

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gilded hours’ intense writing, sunrise through twilight years. fine riffling through strange* fodder, of poets, i call friends. ...

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Crop Rows as The Way Things Ought to Grow David J Walker Your rain falls uniformly in a Row on gardens that grow in a Straight-line while Mine is subject to the Wind and sun and falls in Layers of composted Ataxia Keeping in mind The perception of the aesthetics of perfection that is packaged in the planning of crop rows as the...

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there is a lull of stillness a hush of soothing calm and tranquility and a thousand birds chirping among the rows and rows of graves and graves and quiet stone statues I see some birds have made their nests in some very odd places could be a blue jay ...

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It was a Wednesday; a day woven into prison blankets and dish towels. A day to assess hours unnoticed. A time of trivial hungers. The hard heft of earlier times: - not fitting into anything, teenage fluff and huff. Heartbreak, rearing and loss. The fallow traipse of age. The clinical clunk of clay feet. Making room in a grave-yard moon, for faces mislaid. Those hard rows...

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rows of crops saluting fall's rising sun posted on July 1, 2019...

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Deo Conservator, Investigator, Pastor, Diplomat-Truth-Teller Sibling of a Royal Priesthood, a CHOSEN Generation, Adopted by Abba Lover of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit We are inclined to slavery; addicted to mental processes; hating Silences! Fears our tomorrows will be stillborn - we awake churning old thoughts, hates I'd like to slow down body and thinking before bed, watch that mind, love In...

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I watch the magic happening As yarn becomes a shawl; The knitting needles of my aunt Are at her beck and call. Her fingers wind the wool around Without her even thinking And rows and rows of stitches show Without her even blinking. Her expertise is such that I just really can't compare it, But best of all is when she's done, Then...

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Rows Of Houses Rows of houses, line of sight, Helmet rooves about knee height, Squinting windows, barrel of gun, War in the garden had begun. Traipsing boots in blooming red,...

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