Thistles Poems - Poems about Thistles

As they pull you in for an embrace, You feel them drag the blade across your skin, Forming yet another canyon Deep in your flesh. You feel the thisles begin to grow, Thistles you realise will come to hurt others Who pull you in for yet another embrace. Yet you continue to embrace another, You continue to search for that warmth, The...

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Thistles create neat purple blooms but their stalks are prickly. Grabbed near the ground thistles will uproot with little damage to fingers and thumb. It’s rising in the world that makes them so nasty....

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My heart is stirred by memories the tune of song or still of pic asking if I would commit again seeking what brought me to that place. Why would I want to bring it back from the realm of yesterday the pain, the angst, the loneliness that came with love I thought I had? There must have been a reason then cause to want...

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Man, life sometimes can be so hard His friend: "Sho' nuff, like the sufferin' sometimes doesn't seem to end" Lest not til they put you in that box His friend: "You still be catchin' the blues even then" How so, my dearest bro? His friend: "The devil still be spittin' on you" That's right, accusing you of all the things you...

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Hurdles have been a battle of compromises, worse than thistles growing in my grass; they prick me when I weed them out; and I bleed on them when I'm fraught. Two souls crossed this long path of sultry stillness, one gladly went away, the other sadly stayed; restless is the one feeling wrath. The unfairness of fate is a crucial debate hurling...

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pessimists say weed, highlanders say emblem, summit of strength, protected by spikelet's and hardiness, bewitching and captivating flower, irresistible to man and deity. armed stem defends and supports, tipped with the pride of Scotland, coverage of clover hardened by the elements and stone, the luck of the Irish forged by four petite leaves of green, beauty of the landscape holds the...

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fall blooming thistles pink heads protected by spikes hot asphalt cracking ...

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On song- a charm of finches om yellow flares....

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