Shovels Poems - Poems about Shovels

cars sound the alarm autumn delivers it's storm night time is shattered window faces watch our world of broken branches wheelie-bins gone rogue when tomorrow comes boys will collect their conkers grown men their shovels ...

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Sevens, Shovels, and Spades Dig, dig, dig. Black soil and stone Earth worms wiggle , Decay bones Dig, dig, dig, scatter seeds there Sprouting, searching sun and air Dig, dig, dig, To hide our dead Six feet under, body bed Dig, dig, dig, create new life Born of earth, Feed appetites Dig, dig, dig, Shovel and Spade Flowers grow from planted pain Dig, dig,...

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Each of them had one A golden shovel To sweep away the detritus Of life’s lingering keepsakes Scratching the gold-plated spears Dodging deaths deadline Struggling to be remembered Ecologically egotistical entrepreneurs Pictures, suitable for framing Polished, souvenir hard hats Sign waving sycophants Applauding the arrogance Of progressive platitudes. An old woman weeps The shadow of her home gone The echoes of her life fading A Teddy bear lays crushed Beneath an...

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To the venue we unfortunately got close And the stench pounced on my nose, Forcing in a harming dose And inconveniencing six other nostrils That lived for only salubrious thrills: The fattest challenge Rude stench throws To our finicky population plus those Who readily glimpse the woes In the dreadfully non- fragrant And about them could rant... But soon questions I began to pose About...

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A SCRAPING OF SHOVELS From muffled silence arises a distant drone …..a scraping of shovels chattering across concrete cracks drum rolls of muted angst …..a scraping of shovels trembling dominoes awakening others ….a scraping of shovels rolling back the cover of winter’s quilted silence ….a scraping of shovels earning the price of an afternoon movie …a scraping of shovels welcoming the neighbors to a frosted block party …a scraping of shovels rumbling sound track of...

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Old, weary, sad Wracked with pain and sorrow He wrapped the night around him like a cloak Long had he waited for this eventide And he had earned it, giving all to family and work. The wind came up and carried in the sea mist off the fjords He pressed his cheek against it The briny smells awakening memories of years at...

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Shovels' scraping shows work well done Keep it up! Congratulations!!! Service to God is number one Yielding fruits of commendations. With the Lord's strength as girding might Shovels' scraping shows work well done Radiating life-building's bright light Exemplified by God's great Son. Designed perfection had begun Masterpiece upon faith-venture Shovels' scraping shows work well done Thru divine nature and nurture. Model of utmost excellence Paragon's best for...

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When shovels scrape and make screeches like fingernail grates on blackboards, you know the job is almost done. As shovels designed to scoop, when flipped over and made to rake, shriek their embarrassment....

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A man once knelt beside a mirrored pool, stared into the eyes of a faithless fool. An empty soul who made a devil's pact, to turn away from truth in search of fact. With no light to shine on this troubled trail, he then became lost, then slipped and fell. Leaving all he knew for a promised lie, he lived in darkness...

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Scooping up my pain with these shovels as I try to write, embracing all I lost in a life I never knew I deserved. Keeping forgiveness and empathy in my clear sight, and trying to remember...

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If it weren't for you I'd still be scraping the shovels On land hinged by drought Digging for achromatic memories Beneath...

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My momma was big on naps when I was a girl. Until I was eight years old, she sent me to my room on summer afternoons. It was probably because of the heat in the south, The way it it penetrates to your insides leeching every bit of moisture . . . Just like the overheated engine on...

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There is a loud sharp scraping of shovels, digging another grave; this a daily event in the graveyard, oh, death comes like a wave. When our life time has finished we must leave, and beloved must grieve. We cannot hold back the shovels scraping, and cannot hold back death; for our time left is ever an hourglass, yes, until our last breath. Listen to my...

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There once was a man who loved rakes why pay when their there for the take as the leaves go pell-mell he shovels like hell then he rakes , and he rakes, and he rakes There once was a man from southern New York who planted the shrubs with a...

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Shovels Scraping Standing quiet so as not, to cause a riot. Boots are heavy full of grit. Hair is matted and full of sweat. Muscles ache, with move they make Blister blood, mixed with mud to forms a horrid crud. When I signed I must have been blind. No amount of money could, make this job funny. Then a shout from the gaffer, come on you...

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