Short Waif Poems

swollen waif implores
disappointment stands firm
strangers welcome babe...

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Nymph
Sylvan bronze waif hides;
She sprints through the dense thickets;
Doves coo at their Queen...

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a roaming angel

in scruffy,  tatty old shirt

searching for the star






Copyright2016Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved




May 13, 2015  6.15pm...

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In spite of what you hear in the news
As well as cows, homo sapiens do moo
Especially when embraced
By a voluptuous young waif
Grazing on grass is also a very good clue...

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In spite of what you hear in the news
As well as cows, homo sapiens do moo
Especially when embraced
By a voluptuous young waif
Grazing on “grass” is also a very good clue...

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If I was poured out on the ground............
the fishes of my soul would gasp 
and flip and flop until at last ,
some homeless waif should mercy measure me,
and scoop me up and throw me to the sea....

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SAFE
I am praying for everybody being safe
The world is many times just chafe
Sometimes I am just a purely waif
Let's pray again for everybody safe
Tr?n Minh Hi?n Hien Tran Orlando September 17, 2016...

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In spite of what you hear in the news
As well as cows, homo sapiens do moo
Especially when embraced
By a voluptuous young waif
Grazing on grass is also a very good clue


© Jack Ellison 2015...

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Most of us watch as we see waif!
If you could not support rights,
Do not be confused nor washed away in the flood
Be silent
Do not wrongly promote evil nor fall down on,
Be not a man who fallaciously fall guy
Be a man of big family...

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A Venus shape, the Men go Ape:
tender, slender, svelte!
So toned and taut, her treasure sought-
by far, the best they've felt! 
Inviting lips, come hither hips, 
her silhouette in waif.
Vixen curves and kitten purrs... 
no male, of course, is safe....

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Tune weavers sigh and sigh

 The unblinking eye

Embroider thoughts

Tree line Groves

Fingered love prints

Hearts unfold

Cold and broken

Tattered and yellow

Wistful carousel

Going round  round and around

As surely my heart goes......

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Once upon a haven
for now a heathen waif
once unified by craft
now a lowly execrate
for loving every neighbour 
for flying a rainbow flag
for once upon a kinship 
now pariah   what a drag

***


Dedicated to all the poets 
who have left for safer sites....

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The dreaded zombie apocalypse
Has been the rage now for years
The dead shall rise and get us
Received  by both jeers and cheers

Don't worry so much about it
Even if you are a little waif
They'll be looking for brains to eat 
So I'm pretty sure you'll be safe!...

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Without Malice, the blonde wee waif, with her banded hair and blue-white dress,
Shrinking alongside an insane milliner slurping tea, and dunking biscuits hard.
Frenetic and wild, the April Hare, late by 30 days, his minute hands I guess?
The Heartless Queen collecting heads, taking the fun out of Playing Cards....

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Do you feel safe
Or just feel such a waif
Cringing and afraid
Of another escapade 
To react or find
A resolution in time

Will you stand up to it
Finding a place to fit
Does it wrench you
Taking part of your heart too
And how will you return
After your stomach does a double turn.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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Clutching a sapling
  no port in the storm
Torn from its moorings
  No hope to keep warm

A waif of a girl
  wrapped in shawl and waistcoat
She’d not survive long
  her voice stuck in her throat…

When the blizzard abated
  she was found frozen stiff
buried alive ‘neath a snowmound
  Mother Nature not a finger did lift...

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Recreating the mid seventies
With the Delfonics
Alive and Kicking
Snafu and String Driven Thing
Bedsitter land imagined
on the suburbia lengthwise
red duvets changed frequently

It seems so damn unfair
to live in the past
and today
the songs don't have rhythm
tattooed bards
by the wayside
so waif like
sing out their DNA



...

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In the deep,
I have acquaintenances
With whom I share a common goal,
Intimate friends,
Visionary souls.

I swim in the darkly mirth
And beyond the yawning abyss.
I watch by night for the vulnerable waif
That might find me too, remiss.

For I am here for one brief spark
In Time’s expedient flight, 
Just swimming in the darkness,
While moving toward the Light....

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Rejected by parents
forsaken alone
One choice left to make 
forever to roam   

The cost ever paying
their wages of sin 
Steps of abandonment
traipsing within  

To beg or to borrow
the future on loan
The price of tomorrow
each moment unknown

With fate chasing after
both fortune and shame
A waif born to wander
—in search of a name

(Dreamsleep: July, 2023)...

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early morning sun
sparkles crystal blue water-
like aqua blue glass

a flock of seagulls 
hover over crashing waves-
watching for sea fish

sandpipers on shore
searching for dead crab pieces-
while chirping their song

bright pink beach roses
waif in the salty sea air-
masking ripe wetlands

tide slowly building
as the ocean is waking-
waves crashing louder

8/4/19...

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I tip-toe cautiously through each day
eyes cast down, a silent waif
nothing showing upon my face
my essence truly buried safe
an outward disguise carefully placed
but a glimmer of hope always saved
breath of renewal will now awake
the inner spirit never frayed
it becomes a blossoming flame
and with heartfelt promise I reclaim
the restoration of my faith
and inner beauty glows always...

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A wandering waif walks seeking
God in the wind and tide
A wondering soul seeks waking
a love of God inside.

The wind that kisses chastened cheeks
an infant thought inside,
the sea that cleanses misery
the gifts that are outside.

Each kindness shows the God within
to whom we can confide
and universal starlight brings
dual values to collide.

Exploding now within the hide
in which we all abide....

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Brightly coloured leaves are falling
A nip is in the air
Scent of turkey broth is calling
But from, I know not where.

For days throughout my house this smell,
A pungent, furvent waif,
Beguiles my mind for I know well
A turkey here is safe!

So, how the odour fills this place
I haven't got a clue.
Perhaps a rift in time and space
Recalls the past...with you.

©deborah burch
2005...

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Waif.
Land outstreches.
Wooden bric-a-brac, the dead man's coat
And shoes.

Dowager.

The mirror is a blade
Slanted and glittering.
A world within a world,
A sea upturned.
Decadence won and lost.

Earth

The skins.
A shade of untermensch.
A shade of obscurity.
Foreign clothes,
The blood of Eden.

These are the combinations
A lock and a lock.
Question mark throughout.
Sepia, sepia, sepia....

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begging 
                                                      for alms in
                                                  tears and tatters 
                                      the waif snatched the purse and
                                                       chuckled


                                                 February 26, 2016
                                             Sponsor: Broken Wings...

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