Short Quill Pen Poems
Short Quill Pen Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Quill Pen by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Quill Pen by length and keyword.
God said nothing, wrote nothing,
this is how the mystery works;
the soul of mankind is a radio,
a quill, pen, a stylus, or tablet.
The eyes of the mind are a TV
through which God speaks and appears
as You.
Once though He did use a tablet,
a stone one.
Graceful elegance
fashion - to aircraft design
Colorful plumage
Author's hyphen with quill pen -
the wind is beneath her wings
You were considered prolific with poetic verse.
The subjects you covered were quite diverse.
Who else would write about prostitutes and nudity?
With your quill pen over the years, you kept yourself busy.
A favorite son you became in Camden, New Jersey.
If I continued to write the way you did, what would happen to me?
Perhaps in the future, they will name a bridge after me!
Warmth of your splendor touched me today
something in my mind said ‘Feel My Way’
My heart smiled - together we are now one
He said, ‘Eternal Life Promise from the Son’
My voice spoke to an expressive quill pen
reminds one of my coming know not when
Until that moment, follow holy laws
to keep your soul pure leave whatever was
What I promise will fill your heartfelt needs
this is what the bible to me forever reads
All alone
By the side of the
Creek
Dreaming and
Even
Feeling the
Gusts of wind
Have
Interfered with my
Joyful repose
Keeping
Little
Musings
Notes to myself
On a
Parchment, inked by my
Quill pen
Resting
Smiling as Sundown
Takes light from the sky
Until darkness blankets the creek
Very slowly a storm approaches
Waiting until St. Francis
Xavier sends a
Young owl to guide me home where
ZZZs of sleep fill the night
All alone
By the side of the
Creek
Dreaming and
Even
Feeling the
Gusts of wind
Have
Interfered with my
Joyful repose
Keeping
Little
Music
Notes to myself
On a
Parchment, inked by my
Quill pen
Resting
Smiling as sundown
Takes light from the sky
Until darkness blankets the creek
Very slowly the storm approaches
Waiting until St. Francis
Xavier sends a
Young owl to guide me home where,
Zzz's keep sleep to fill the night.
Dancing with delusions, sparks of hellfire
Course through my lugubrious quill pen.
Distorted words igniting fear,
Anxiety fills crevices,
Encircling, silencing,
Asphyxiating.
Walls closing in,
Compressing.
Hope fades,
Doom.
Dread
Runs cold.
Veins poisoned,
Sanity slips
Unmercifully.
The angels are mimicked.
Light dimming, darkness descends
As demons mingle with the dead.
Apocalyptic skies crack open
To wash away all that you held sacred.