Shepherdess Poems - Poems about Shepherdess

Blue faded. The same horizon, the same clouds changed by brushes from an impressionist painter. The lavender sky blushes and the crest of the cheery trees beams as the wind hums, enticing belated bumblebees. Twigs rattle waking a little shepherdess bellow. Amber eyes browse the dusky glen. She whistles, summoning her hound and ties her undulating hair with a butterfly. She engenders...

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The Wind Shepherd and Shepherdess The winds, Like a shepherd and shepherdess, Herd blackness, In swirling ghosts - Mysteries rising From wastelands of wildness Casting veils of gloom, Haunted by thunder, Trying to stampede - Corralling tumbleweeds....

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The Wind Shepherdess The wind, Like a shepherdess, Gathers misty spindrift; Heaven’s lambs From azure fields Where they pasture Viewing paradise In meadows without edges; Gliding effortless In pastoral symphonies....

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As xanthic grows the tender wheat she splays her flock on country lane while basil floats the sultry heat and shyly whispers timid grain. She splays her flock on country lane by jade of idle burnished grass, and shyly whispers timid grain in azure as the breezes pass. By jade of idle burnished grass crowd daffodils of salmon glow. In azure as the breezes pass coy...

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A shepherdess with a lamb to her breast Against a dry stone wall on a windy hill She cradles it with love so truly blessed Over steep Welsh hills they roam best Hardy hill sheep bred to wander at will A shepherdess with a lamb to her breast Long fleeces waving in springs unrest Bleating lambs at teats taking their...

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O’ Fair shepherdess! What a misery swept! A lover, a selfless lover you have lost Why don’t you speak? You haven’t yet wept. Thus the shepherdess replied, “It’s not my fault” His death hasn’t moved you, shame! You are unmoved by the loss of your lover You treat him as if he were a stranger Thus she replied, “I am not to...

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Linseed oil wash Light strokes show her virgin blush Forever a flirt By Robb A. Kopp...

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Never trust a shepherdess Although she may look pretty Beneath her lacy frilly dress A heart beats without pity. There’s furtive tales of Miss Bo Peep Told behind closed doors And just what happened to her sheep Upon those silent moors They never did return, you see Though many tried to find them They disappeared in mystery Complete with tails behind them. Dark doings lurk in hill...

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