Sara Poems - Poems about Sara

Suitors lined up, hoping to court me Promising plethoras of pleasure Tantalizing, teasing hints of treasure To move my...

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There is a tenderness in hard work, a calling not easily dismissed, and I sense you feel this deeply. -- You’ve taken an oath, a promise to remain steady amidst the currents that swell around you. -- Your loyalty, bound like silver cords that glimmer under starlight, is something to be cherished. But with loyalty comes hardship—harder...

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The night swallowed her, quiet as the sea, Where the waves carried whispers, heavy and deep— Sara, a ripple lost in the currents of time, A flicker gone dark beneath the moon's hollow eye. Oceans curled their backs to kiss the blue sky, Choked on salt and her long drawn out sighs, drowning what they knew— Her words, her marrowed bones,...

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Dear Attorney Mollow, The autumn winds rise soft around me, rustling the pages of my soul as I sit beneath a sky as tender as the heart you seem to carry. I look upon the beauty of this life, the fleeting sweetness of days unfurling like petals on a rose, and my heart swells with gratitude—for...

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When will there come soft rain, serene and slow, To kiss the silent earth and make it bloom? The skies have whispered tales of falling snow, But rain will banish all the heart’s deep gloom. The trees stand still, their branches full and high, While waiting for the tender rain to weep, And birds in distant clouds still yearn to fly Through...

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By day she walks among the weary streets, With quiet strength, her heart a steady flame, In every gaze, a thousand stories meet, She knows their pain, though they won't speak her name. Her hands are soft but firm with gentle care, They wipe away the sorrows of the night, A whispered word, a balm to calm despair, Her presence turns the...

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A gardener was gifted a seedling. Before planting its teeny weeny stem, he gently prepared the earth, carefully, vigilantly, so it was soft, but tough enough to hold its roots. Everyday, affectionately he would provide it with water, especially when the sunlight was too strong. ...

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My toes are petals, pale and small, Whispering secrets to the night; They dance upon the marble floor, Tracing dreams in silver light. Each step I take, they softly press Against the earth, so cool and wide, They know the songs of summer’s end And winter’s kiss, where we would hide. They curl within the velvet sheets, A gentle prayer in twilight's keep, They know...

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Your world is too small for me to live in, The stars are cramped in your narrow sky, You hem the moon with shadows so thin, And still expect not even me to sigh. Your oceans are pools that barely stir, No deep tides rise, no wild winds blow, The rivers are tamed, with banks that aren't full, And I am lost...

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Grace is the glitter of the morning dew, A silent dance of sunlight through the trees, The tender touch of petals kissed by blue, A song that rides upon the softest breeze. It is the gentleness of falling leaves, A moonlit path that leads us through the night, The solace found in twilight's quiet eves, A heart that dreams in colors pure...

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Purple in the sky, the night is clear, The quiet waves sigh softly in my ear, A tender hymn of love the ocean weaves, As twilight gently falls on whispering leaves. The sea reflects the sky's amethyst hue, Each wave a lover’s touch, soft and true, Their whispers blend with winds that softly sing, Of distant shores and love’s eternal spring. Beneath the...

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The roses wilt in heavy sun, Their petals frail and worn, Beneath the sky where shadows run, And leaves are gently torn. The laughter of the golden days Fades softly with the light, As twilight’s silver fingers raise The veil of coming night. A breeze that once was warm and sweet Now chills the lonely air, And in the grass where lovers meet, The silence whispers...

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Where are the Bakers of Poetry Soup? I miss their energy and the queen’s haikus I hope all is well let me visit their page For no response from soup mail I made Bill and Sara are you ok?...

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My dear Souper Sara Etgen-Baker tastes bittersweet moments. Sweet, because she's riding on a beautiful horse to be a number one. Bitter, because she doesn't have the same time to spend in the PoetrySoup with her brothers and sisters. We've already missed you my Texan friend, you must know. Let me give you my advice my dear friend: Ride well on this race that life...

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in my observance, big Sara Etgen-Baker nice keen poetess...

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