Short Knits Poems
Short Knits Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Knits by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Knits by length and keyword.
Uh grasshopper I hate what you do
My lawn you sit and you chew
My spray called zits
It kills bloody knits
With my slipper I whip your ass to Timbuktu
There was this old lady, drinking soup
She was also knitting, loop by loop
She ran out of yarn
Screamed and said- "Oh Darn!"
Started dunking needles in ball hoop!
Crystal shells glimmer
Porcelain as dawn,
Varnished by romance.
Like opal baubles.
He knits them offshore—
As passion’s keepsake.
Contest Tableau Prints--nette onclaud
2 Nov 20i7
Always believe caring…devotedly, eternally, fearlessly, graciously, humbly, incarnationally… joyously knits love more neatly on people’s qualms- releasing something truly unappreciated: very worthy xenodochial yearning zeal.
Nestled
in her old chair-
world outside her window
and indoor plants, a sign of life-
she knits.
Fingers
work their magic-
grant her moments purpose;
then reminiscing years gone by-
tears flow.
The day arrives
blaming no one.
The sky wipes its face -
forgets.
Sparrows delight the earth.
A hawk swoops. Death dances.
Blood spills -
the living rejoice.
Under the busy sod
bones grow lighter,
an enriched soil
knits more grass.
The day arrives
blaming no one.
The sky wipes its face -
forgets.
Sparrows delight the earth.
A hawk swoops. Death dances.
Blood spills -
the living rejoice.
Under the busy sod
bones grow lighter,
an enriched soil
knits more grass.
Matthew McGrory of Westchester, Pennsylvania
has the world’s largest feet.
He stands seven foot six.
His shoe is a twenty-eight and a half.
Converse company makes shoes especially for him.
He cannot buy socks though,
So his mother knits his socks.
Winter wears
a warm white coat,
and wraps a scarf
around her throat.
She knits the trees
lacy white caps,
and carpets with snow,
growing things that nap.
Then in the morning,
when hungry creatures wake,
she fills their bowls
with frosted flakes.
Hush!
Discreetly they be. Clandestine
Journeying a void voyage,
Made for each other
Madly in love.
Might be
A pin drops silently
Mind is a culprit.
Yesterday slumbers on a bed of thorns.
Hush!
Sweaters in making
Knits a sock, as well.
Footwear and footprints in love
Hush!
Discreetly they be. Clandestine
Journeying a void voyage,
Made for each other
Madly in love.
Might be
A pin drops silently
Mind is a culprit.
Yesterday slumbers on a bed of thorns.
Hush!
Sweaters in making
Knits a sock, as well.
Footwear and footprints in love
Gladys knits so fast, that now she has no time to go get a sheep.
She keeps one on her head, it’s faster and easier, and the sheep likes it.
They all like it. They line up daily, bleating at the door, hoping to be picked.
She is knitting a sweater today; I am sticking around to make sure it will fit.
And the last I invented
Was super and honey syrup:
That the time I quit the game.
There's something about you and me
That camouflages the reality of our love,
Yet strengthening the fibre that knits it
You are the kind of girl that vibes me in;
Everywhere I am, your hue covers my eyes
With incomparable beauty.
The stay away was nice,
I even stayed away from bathing.
Very strange and unexplorable
is this illusion in our mind.
It is like a glittering pearl
in our darkness inside.
It knits a fine linen with joy and dreams
Decorates the cloth with alluring things.
This sorcerer engulfs and covers us
With it’s dire hypnotism.
Then finally deludes and deceives us
So miserably with blankness.
==================
Amitava (15.7.2015) 7-00am
©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY AMITAVA SUR
"winter knits her forest with frost as the wind chimes . . ."
Quote by _A. Weiland Crosby
winter is a tapestry of wonderous scenes
with all the hues of bare trees and evergreens
consider the tiny sparrow ...
many can rest on winter branches narrow
as snow falls beyond and frost covers their winter forest
gathering together for warmth is this tiny bird modest
Your own concern, my own respect
so voluntary with adept
contingency, some verve its met
does see the evermore's beget!
I see you everywhere, my soul has kept
its vestige in pure grace, without funds left.
As honing nothing as in its own love leapt
has greater vision from bestow, God's deft!
Because my hands are clasped in wit
like magnets to concession's fit
and Holy intercession knits
a prayerful course, progressed acquit!
Angel Lucifer
With the soul while leaving the sion.
When you communicate with time!
It is going through our lives.
The wind blowing with blood color.
Given to the ground with the flow time.
The shaken posts fell.
Rising with ages from their eyes.
Rising words infinity light.
Distributes their falling ashes under light.
Darkness has a treasure on the dawn.
The rooster of the victory is heard if it is uttered.
Knits with roaring cross ties ..
Broken clouds allowed moonlight
onto the bed where I lay thinking
My bones ache, my hands
grow more crooked every day,
To use them is painful, very
This hospital bed is where
my life continues, cats
on each side
Food is hard to come by
but I have little appetite any more
Best night's rest came when
diabetic coma kept me out
for twelve hours
Fear knits a cowl over
my face and my heart dances
One day I will be no more
Oh, God, let there a heaven be
morning daze - vanilla haze
stabbed by crepuscular rays
- a frisky prism seeking color,
finding fauna fronds, a thousand greens
and ... me
vanilla, wondering how something so light
can be born from something so dark
- something so sweet from something so bitter?
That vanilla shell which cloaked dawn
now chased through the trees,
weeping on leaves, yet
it is not truly gone ... it sails by on a cloud
and knits tomorrow's shawl...
Terror driven the thunderstorm outside
Animals are uncomfortable and wet
There is no willing earthly place to hide
Grandma sits and knits as aunt and uncle fret
There is a pause, the lightning not well set
Gray thunder roars as loud as any train
Across from grandpa I move my checker and yet
Unnamed feelings cause me a bit of strain
Knowing some are out there in the horrid rain
Written June 22, 2018
For Summer Rain Storm Contest
Dale Gregory Cozart, Sponsor
The noise was silently deafening
It was the loudness of my mind.
Thoughts were running riot & loose
Conjuring up insane madness in their find.
I was blinded by the darkness Of the night skies
blackned but dimly lit up by the stars shining.
My emptiness was full of nothingNess
In the delllusions of knits entwining.
My senses became null & void
Paralysed by the fear within me
Like a crippled man unable to move
Yet I was flying above in ita dreamy vicinity
There is no moon tonight.
Wine fills me with melancholy.
Movement of boats on the Seine soothe me like choral music.
Illuminated torches excite nostalgia.
The sound of an Aurignacian flute can be heard down the boulevard, or maybe only the glint of a memory.
Worn feet ache.
Tired lines tell the story of a life of curiosity in a weary smile.
An old woman knits.
She wears a faded pink shawl to cover her years.
Flour from the morning’s baking lightly coats her wooden shoes.
Drawn to thy beauty, grace rains down;
I choose this drowning than a drought –
Where ten thousand are called mine own;
Yet, deny thee and live without.
Skilled not enough to understand;
Words unheard, find their voice through thee;
As I reach out then find thy hand;
I see light take darkness from me.
Chaos knits together unity:
Thoughts run free, once captive in chains;
Cleansed from fear in thy purity;
Would I leave, canceling such gains?