Tales Poems - Poems about Tales

Bloody war raged on. Superpower leader said: "Sometimes kids fighting like crazy in the yard, can't be parted." "Best leave them fight on for a while." Anyone care for TACO and cheese?...

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Come and climb these Broad bony branches and Have tea on this tree with me, Let's talk our hearts out Into the poems unsung. Sleep silently singing in my sizzly eyes, Sleep might snap with some pumpkin chai, The sun is seeping in my sulky bones, Soon the milky moon will mysteriously be alone, Here, have some squishy scone While the sun...

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Zealots zealous zealots zigzag running rampant, repeating dubious data drawn from fallacious forums which write woeful tales that try to teach lurid laughable lies ...

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“I want what they have.” and “When is it my turn?” “Waiting on Prince Charming” I’m wondering when they’ll learn You can wait for Fairy Godmother To turn your mice all into men But just remember, tale’s not over When the paper reads “The End.” Cindy-Cindy Relly Did you see what’s on the tele? Broken hearts, and slippers shattered Broken record, same old pattern Boy meets...

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Orchestrated they succumb onto her board scene ~ As success thrills the ordained Queen of mean—poet Once upon a time, there was a Queen with a magic flute in her throat Beknownst to all the villagers as the P i e d P i p e r e s s Without losing...

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the avenue's trees  What is with this month of May the day is as cold as November  the leaves on the trees are full and green, yet among the mass of chlorophyll, I see many yellow and Auburn leaves. It is as if the trees think of autumn  has arrived and is prepared for winter hiatus. If I tell the plants it is because of melting...

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HIS AND HISTORY'S TALES There is his story, and there's also history; bloody lies, skewed truths:...

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I draw the heart alone on a wall, I draw the heart on the night. Wanted to draw my heart on a heart, but it always kept itself out of sight, never appeared like the endless common tales under the sun, rain or the moonlight. (23.04.2025)  ...

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Under the sky laden with mystery, where the wind sings its endless tales, Life begins to sketch your outlines, even when you are not prepared, Just as a tree does not know how to bend until the wind shows it, The art of not breaking under the burden of storms that embrace it forcefully. Like a river that seeks...

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His canvas boots still tell of the mountain, yet Old Man River has changed, grown or dwindled - hard to say. Maybe the ragged winged carrion birds have spirited him away? The newly painted river towns have dragged themselves from the water's edge. Scummy ripples and fresh waves mingle in the wake of the setting sun. An ever-young river queen drowns her sorrows on the...

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Written: April 14, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Suzette Richards *********************************** In shimmering twilight, a memento on the moon lies quiet, a story etched in silver dust, evokes the wanderer of the past. Moon serenity is countless, and heart beats bear sureness. Astral footsteps foster starlight, tracks of kismet smite. Human creation will grow, even as infernal...

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I stand, where paths diverge, With merry Andrew, years’ faithful surge. The Creator’s hand, a craftsman’s embrace, Yet dreamscapes falter, bound by time’s Trace. At tri-junction, like a gazelle carved in grace, Amid ancient trees, a sanctified space, Rooted, seeking signs yet unseen, The road ahead-a riddle, Serene. Branches murmur, leaves weave lore, Tales of renewal, of hearts once torn. Choices beckon-left’s holds the known, paths, Right...

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My father was born, Late on the eve of St. Patrick’s Day, Inspiring nurses to insist the babe’s name be Patrick, To which, my grandparents laughed and chose to obey. Decades later, When my parents had their first son, Though the birth be in October, The life of another Patrick, Pat Jr., begun. Every St. Patrick’s Day has a special spark, Because it...

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I spotted her in the enchanted forest, where the trees whisper tales, She stood there smiling, like an ephemeral and mysterious star, Exuding an ethereal elegance, in a white veil that swayed gently, Tassels like little bells adorned her chic and graceful dress. Her beauty was an old sweet song that penetrated the soul, Her aura was a living canvas,...

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Written February 04, 2025, For contest Sponsored by: Constance La France Quote: Let the vintage box gather dust; it seems like no one will ever open it or discover it. By Poet ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Unseal all that unscathed...

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