Seasoned Poems - Poems about Seasoned

Summer Funny Limerick Poetry Contest Tania Kitchin The heat of summer in his dad's car The son takes his date to gaze a star Lover's lane shines on so bright Two teenagers groins take flight It was Dad's Chevy's best years by far ...

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SEASONED LOVE In the love we have, the seasons test our oneness; we bound in onement:-...

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I can be something of a ham, take my energy or leave it; Here’s the deal I am what I am; Imperfectly immaculate is the vibe I aim to transmit; Addictive I have no gateway; Left so hungry with a tidbit, come feed on a seasoned entree....

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I tuned into yesterday's presidential debate where neither candidate came across great. Two seasoned horses at the gate, one will determine this country's fate. Too many problems on our plate and they began to argue about some thing innate.. The borders, inflation, and two wars in our lap and these old blokes discussed which golfer has the better handicap!!!...

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I've been meaning to write for a long time. but sometimes my words willingly remain hostage in my heart. Not wanting to be heard. Covered and crumpled. I cannot sink in I am 18. it's frightening, Getting old my mind is somewhere between the land and the sky, wishing to fly, but fears the fall. what if I am longing for the...

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Seasoned homeless men in olive-green and black camouflage jackets, whisker-stubbled faces, fatigued eyes once of youth's brightness. They not too long ago raised their hand to swear the oath, in the shelter kitchen are many bustling volunteers. Brewed creamy coffee warms the grateful men's throats. The Catholic church across the city street tolls, it's resounding bells in chilled autumnal air, a knell of hope. Honeycomb paper turkey decorations...

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A chicken dish and the chef who prepared it...

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end of season birds hiding within colored leaves only to be seen...

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The older woman is seasoned, sassy and secretive, just ask Ms Mim She can unleash her confidences, but she has learned to keep them Knowing when to keep quiet, is learned in the hardest of ways But the experienced crone realizes it makes for much better days...

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Still life Pics Seasoned Hearts David J Walker Still life Pics Of moving parts Midnight mix Of seasoned hearts A morning sun An evening moon The day is done And gone too soon And you and I And I and you The time goes by But hearts stay true Red is yarrow Yellow Blue A new tomorrow In borrowed hue The still life picks Its falling parts But...

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I acknowledge You' are my eternal Father, I was Born an earthly birth, in a corner of a universe That drew its breath, from Your word rather More You were, and are and will be; no mortal Thing çan ever conquer me.' Though i know my Parents bore and nurtured me, its you who alone Who own the whole; the...

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I used to claim, I'm just getting old til a friend said, "no, seasoned", with a gentle scold. It does sound better. I must admit, but am still pondering which spices fit? Was I seasoned by the sea with its salty air? Am I spiced by my anger which at times flares? Was I peppered by my individual journey, and all of...

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in spring I am tears on your window, and spears of thistle, piggybacking your breeze … in summer I am warmth on your brow, and dew, cool upon your dusk and dawn … in autumn I am burnt colors in your gaze, and the chill haze, tugging your tresses … and, in winter I am the keen kiss of cold to your cheek, the meek hopes of your hearth, felt, and...

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We could widely perceive reasons for healthy win/win spiritual relationships and deeply feel seasons developing wealthy cooperative sacraments growing nutritional food and natural fuel and nurturing fertility Becoming therapeutic fruit of nonviolent communion when ego traumatized nature lets co-passionately go Of ancient AnthroSupremacist monotheistic Capitalist win/lose degenerative zero-sum games Condemning all sacred life networks to ecocidal lose/lose death Of Golden Ruling Gaia, blue/green revolutionary birthing deep round wombed empowerment fertilized by richly robust solar-seasoned polyculturally polypathic panentheistic health...

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There’s nothing so fine as a bright April Day A light breeze blowing through the sycamores The backyard squirrels have come out to play, An adventure kind of day I can’t stay indoors. Chores to be done, but spring fever has struck The meadow beckons for an afternoon stroll, Then to the riverbank where fish are jumping It’s clear the past winter...

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