She Poems - Poems about She

It's a ghost she screamed Then she fainted But no darling It was the spirit she drank She's so high Hennessy to be precise Her vision was blurry. Now she's unconscious Right in my bedroom She drank to stupor The DJ overwhelmed her I have no clue, what to do I've poured her water But she wants a kiss She said; my kisses is the water of...

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She walks in beauty, through the night, Where stars like blossoms burn so bright, The hush of dusk upon her hair, A ghost of moonlight trailing there. She does not speak, yet all is said In how she lifts her dreaming head— A lily tall amid the gloom, A hush within the heart of bloom. The shadows bend to let her pass, She stirs...

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she does not walk— she ignites. in the dark cathedral of ash and echoes, she spins, a silhouette carved from the mouth of a flame, hips swaying like the last breath of a phoenix. her dress— not cloth, but the wind of burning wings, each thread crackling with a story that refused to be extinguished. arms flung skyward— not surrender, but invocation. the fire does not consume her. it...

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Some have watched her rising from an ocean of time. Her sightings return at the pull of each luna cycle. No clamshell boats for her, after she rises from the waves she and the shoreline disappear she's only to be seen driving a classic Chevy convertible or riding a gayly adorned donkey. She is sister to desert nights, and all the dance moves of the free roaming...

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Love don't know me love evaids and often disappoints or is it that I'm unkind or I'm upset when thinks should be kind it seems you value precious time alone if your are the one for me then leave me alone Does it have to began like this only to get the drift you make me understand then you make me your man love don't love nobody but we...

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My baby Fumi She never fools me She always gives me butterflies In my tummy She's so funny But not cunning She's just like my mummy She always stands for, by and with me. She always puts me Under detention Without pressure or tension But just to gain my attention Because I take her to different dimensions Leading...

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Can I take your ear and tell you what I’m doing here And will you stay to hear me through… as I relate my tale to you All the people sleeping here are free forever of all fear For one, I’ve left a red rose which I water with a tear So look around at all the plots at...

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We will not say that she is dead. We have never said that she is dead. We will never say that she is dead. We’ll say she’s in heaven We will say she passed away We tell the children she went to God’s house And became an angel on the way. We say she’s gone We say she died But none...

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She was light, I was glass, a reflection of the rays passing through me, A dance of shadows and glimmers on the surface of my cracked heart, Perhaps I wasn't the purest altar, for something in me always resisted, Trying to mend her, to hold her, but shattering her fragile outline. Her light scattered into shards when it passed...

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Uncut Unrevised Version _____________________________ yeah Girl I forgot. Here it goes . guest as they proclaimd her PitMastering skills. Bunch of Jive Tsalking folk. The food was Good not the greatst just good I did enjoy the company of one of her Sisters. we had the raspberry cream and Cake with the homemade Vanilla Iceceam. That was Grate and special. At the end of the...

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the person she was at eight a.m. did not recognize her three p.m. self She had thrown away two or three “I will never's" that day transmogrifying herself into a willing flexible chameleon no one else noticed, which amused her slightly but lightly Part of herself wanted to scream her new truth, but she was shy Her muse took the...

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She is every woman, Bringing love to her man, She shares erotica, Ever so wundebar, She is wife to all men, Loving chick in his zen, She can birth, she can bleed, Cook, nurse, love indeed, She has the ear of God, Ere power walk over sod, She is every woman, Hope you wave that fan!...

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It's quite a bright dusk today I would choose Neapolitan yellow for the sky Although I haven't touched colours for years After all, images and paintings are quite enough So why create more without urgent necessity? The thick foliage of the trees around the balcony Stands still as if painted on a canvas It’s a heatwave now, I'm sitting in my...

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Who would gaze at the moon when her face held all the light? Even the stars seemed unnecessary when she stood still in the night. And who would listen to waves when her laughter sounded like home? The ocean forgot its voice the moment she smiled. She wasn’t just beautiful — she was peace in human form, like the ghats of Banaras where broken hearts quietly drown without needing to...

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He loved her like the last day of autumn — knowing she'd leave, but holding on as if his hands could change the season. She wasn’t just a chapter — she was the entire book he never finished, because he kept rereading the parts where she smiled. He built a world around her absence, talked to her like she still listened in the silence of 3 a.m....

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