Short Commingling Poems

Short Commingling Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Commingling by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Commingling by length and keyword.


Premium Member Becoming

She deliberately sashayed across the room,
the very breathless harbinger of lost desire;
all the men whom she passed by seeming to consume
this effervescent commingling of ice and fire.
In an instant, witless men succumb to her becoming,
as she played them like a bass fiddle, strumming.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Valley Creation

In the green valley 
Gentle zephyr blew my hair 
Breathing pure fresh air
Contemplating dawn birds flock 
Commingling with the cosmos











For One Nature Tanka - Inspired By My Short Poem Posted On Contest Page - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Rick Parise
Eight Place
7-31-2016
Form: Tanka

Premium Member The 'C' In Christmas


Christmas courts contentment, cheer
Contributes comfort, comity-
Commingling with the coming Christ.
Can celebrate with caroling,
Church choir chanting, candlelight.
Create commitments to cherish
Connection conceived with Christ.
Christmas cards and caring confirm
Charity, compassion, closeness-
Culled core of Christmas centerpiece.


December 16, 2020

Contest: Alliteration
Sponsor: Eve Roper

Olfaction

Flanked by Dame’s rockets and Yarrow familiar flowers that greet me every spring with their breezy nods. Their irresistible, subtle scents never cease to captivate my olfactory perception. I swoon amidst their fragrant breaths and for one imaginative moment become their distant kin with an alien hue and scent commingling with them nonetheless until their odoriferous scents again sober my senses leaving a feeling of gladness.
Form: Verse

Old Man At the Diner

Old Man At The Diner
 

He slaughters his hamburger steak
with a fork and a butter knife,
massacres ringlets of onions
again and again
 
thumps catsup all over
the bloody commingling,
then ever so slowly
peppers and salts
 
and reminds me of Hrebic,
whose wife, back
on the block of my youth,
sat all summer out on her stoop,
 
knees awry, one eye black,
the other turning gray,
sunning the great white hydrants
of her phlebitic legs.
 
 
Donal Mahoney


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