Rusty Poems - Poems about Rusty

The shy sky sends rumours of a dustfall, More murmurs of the impending clouds’ brawl. The least swirls of dust unleashed ceased the light, It roars for hours from town center with fright, Staining gowns brown and making dirts dusty. The morons, like iron, became rusty....

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“Such simple things in life can make it full and rife.” _by Poet The rusty gate was somehow left ajar; behind, there lay a field of golden wheat. Beside it, a dirt...

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Rusty Pipes Miracle Man 1/1/2025 He feared rusty pipes so my friend drunk no water, only alcohol! ...

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I woke up this morning to a Nice Surprise. On Poetry Soup, I couldn't believe my eyes. My Kitty Rusty became a Super Star. Thanks to Poet Robert Gorelick's, Kindred Heart. Robert and Beryl Edmunds wrote two Poems. About our cat Rusty, and how we found him. Their great Poetry amazed my wife and I. Can you hear us clapping for...

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Rusty leaves dance in the wind, carrying whispers of time that flows ceaselessly, And I, a traveler on life's road, feel how each autumn brings me closer to my last autumn, Like a cosmic clock ticking gently in the background, reminding me that all beauty is fleeting. My thoughts fly free like migratory birds, unbound from the cage...

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Rusty Finds A Home! Rust-hued kitty’s shunned by day, ignored through the night Unloved and discarded in a world numb to his plight As he meows by a door Rusty meets family Tor Who give him a home, protection and love glowing bright ...

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In the hush of twilight’s gentle embrace, A locket swings, a whisper of grace. Its surface tarnished, like memories confined, Yet within its heart lies love intertwined. Muscadine wine spills dreams on the floor, Sweet as our laughter from days long before. With every sip, I taste summer’s glow,...

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Nights that smell of dew, days that smell of fresh grass, flowers that bloom to be seen for a short time, leaving their fragrance in the air for us to feel that unforgettable instant. Slippery days missed somewhere in the past. Rusty swings forgotten in my backyard that bring back my childhood memories. Columpios Oxidados.(Spanish) Noches que huelen a rocío, días que...

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Written: December 09, 2023 ____________________________________ solitary slope whispers below by the vernacular aphonic with a fierce wind and unbiased rock bucolic vibe is ponderous It's chameleon patois In schizoid iridescence and fluffy sky I decipher everything while trudging uphill as blind Into the mouth of irrational tempest no reason to stay here as haze...

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. my visage heats unto mine embarrass why me ...

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It's rusty, old, holed. Trustingly, it dug many holes in my past, to bury reminiscent reminders....

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" (Two roads) diverged in a yellow wood and I choose the the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference. " ...

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~ Bygone beauty - the spark still pulsates ~ ...

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RUSTY...

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It was a beaten down old rusted out 1948 Ford pick-up truck. But it was mine for a mere twenty six dollars and nineteen cents. Don’t ask how Grandma came up with that price. The exact amount I had in my piggy bank. It did not run, but I was ten. How much driving can an unlicensed ten-year-old do? All summer...

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