Short Cobbles Poems
Short Cobbles Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Cobbles by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Cobbles by length and keyword.
Amsterdam.
Calm, gentle.
Cycling, boating, walking.
Tulips, cobbles, bakeries, fresh air.
Eating, drinking, sight-seeing.
Modern, historic.
Holiday.
Grief is not a straight line
it meanders down
echo cobbles
hiding in
black shadow forest
tendril fingertips
gnarled and knotted
pull you back
to a rememberance
of the gone
Smiling, I cross the facade.
Mottled, the evening violets
wane -- into a subtle fusion
of smoothly muted grays.
A thin sheen of water lies
fallow Upon stone cobbles.
8/28/2016
Curved and simple
as milkbone,
used as a hidden grail,
a pale listener.
When the morning rain calls
we carry buckets into the yard.
Warm lipped from mugs,
knights of clink and
clack, we triumph over
cobbles, flood past the latch.
We know grey and the
weight in one arm.
The past rises
grey and pink
amid rasping gravel
barnacled to chasms
sunken and sodden
clawing at hasty feet
that skate manically
and hurl bodies cruciform
onto mocking concrete.
The marred morn pauses
for a nanosecond
to ponder the maelstrom
of mangled flesh
and sirens.
One man.
Treading the streets of his city,
large black overcoat blending into the night,
pipe bowl softly glowing red against the dark,
cane sharply clacking aginst the cobbles.
Suddenly an owl sweeps by,
white wings flashing softly,
quietly hooting.
One man,
one street,
one bird,
one night.
Old shops here
Odd stuffy cheer
Old things dear
Street wind well
Old cobbles tell
Odd tales dwell
Note time trace
An ancient race
In old grace
Old charms pitch
Hurls clumsy reach
In strange itch
Odd old rooms
Quaint fancy grooms
Allure blooms
Leon Enriquez
22 January 2018
Singapore
Wolf On Snowy Mound Betrayed by Mound of Snow and Stone - A Haiku
snowy afternoon
a gray, yellow wolf wallows
betrayed by the stone
howling in the wind
running mix the snow mounds falls
dozens of cobbles
stones midst covered grass
a gray, yellow wolf wallows
betrayed by the snow
11/25/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
You leave, but the snow finds you.
Cobbles reflect ice and steps.
(The street is the back of a reptile).
You follow the snow,
the windows make you a saint,
you are in a church.
You are well wrapped in cloth,
you stride with intent,
your heart is an unformed pump.
You are a fireplace, cold and ashen.
Rutted twittens, ivy shadowed
flecked with fuchsia blooms
as spring nods gaily
to wake dozy summer
and clattering of feet
on the sparse cobbles
that meander in quaintness
toward sprawling flea markets
where bustle and laughter
of children, echo, larkish
amid the ruddy traders
who grin and joke
behind their wobbly trestles
draped in gingham cloth
that sport a shambles
of vibrant, ancient treasures.
With empty baskets
in both hands
she treads the cobbles
of her broken land.
Her home once
pale washed blue
a reflection of early
morning dew
where now a bomb
stained hue.
She's walking solemn corridors
still empty baskets in her hand
she looks for the reason
but she can't understand.
The flowers grew in the garden
the mid day feast displayed
she still walks with empty baskets
her sunken eyes displayed.
denouement
warm honey flows
through beeswax veins
and pools upon cloth
of azure blue
glow of sun filtered
filigree through leaves
an open window invitation
to Sunday just across the sill
a hawkers sing song cry
from the cobbles below
berries, sweeet strawberries
come buy my lovely berries
sudden feather gusts of morning breeze
bring scents of fruit and jasmine
to my bed
but I am too lazy to move
to disturb the honey flow.
she passes every day
she strolls
golden liquid
afternoon dance along
the broad streets
ancient trees drop dappled shade
from green hushing leaves
The Girl From Ipanema
plays from her pores
swirls about her hips.
she glides over the smooth cobbles
steps in time to the rolls
of an ancient sea
eyes follow, speculate
cast nets of wondering
try to capture her truth
yet none can see the fire
through the ice
a mask of calm belies all heat
but for her afternoon dance