Tuned Poems - Poems about Tuned

Today I contemplate those perfect soft mounds of flesh the pillows upon my chest For one has sent me on a quest a lump you see that has paused my rest We did the 3d mammogram followed immediately by an ultrasound And now its biopsy day tomorrow and my matched set will be scarred I fear The progression of this process has been...

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her bands wast softly singing a rhymn it's the one folks said play it one more time when we kissed I smelled her fragance I thought I heard trumpets in the distance we danced to an Ole lovers tune we acted like we were on our honeymoon when the music stopped people applauded we just bowed and curteied know one would ever thought it would...

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Seasoned and primed for performance. It draws attraction to feed it's need to be seen. How different one might compare. Each difference than spoken as favored from such comparison. It's maintenance and upkeep creates a jargon for those who wish to follow and participate. It's dues are allocated from the works of it's possessor. Those ...

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Knumbed by her beauty I stood in the fast beleif she'd refuse my suggestion of suppering in evening she stood proud and assured that I would beg her whilst her friends observed to sneer and smerk I stood unattractive to either but her gentle kindness allowed me her person when evening speaks to the dawn might the entanglements of lovers speak to the night might the crooning of...

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Minds Afloat Souls Engaged Incarnations...

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I flex my tired joints to keep them in tune. Although my ancient body no longer croons. My ancient fingers tap computer keys. They no longer dance with greatest of ease. The stories I create on the blank screen, make me a character upon the scene. My body is old, I feel I'm not living,...

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Tranquil twilight tuned in a mellifluous brevity, Silver stars appeared, twinkling, forming constellations bright, And nightingales sang to honour our memorable night, As we lay serene. the fine sand willing our destiny. Blessed indeed were we to find such a peaceful sandy cove I looked into her eyes and saw how they reflected stars. No doubt as years roll, the view...

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sun streaming through the window nearest our bed . . . my love’s golden hair I am awakened by bird song. What a beautiful start to a brand new day. Having wakened before my darling, I gaze at him where he lies on his side, still snoozing and his head on the plump pink pillow matching my own....

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in a black bubble of seclusion sitting silent the moon hangs low in the stillness of the night so clearly so distinct the memory of you it calls to me a whisper on wings of butterflies a shiver tingling way deep inside sweet charming haunting beckoning AP: Honorable Mention 2020 Submitted on March 27, 2022 for contest A BRIAN STRAND #1098 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST Originally...

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Tuned to rhapsody My heart grows wings, flies Charmed to your rainbow arched sky I’m lone bird to sing Lure your shiny crystal mind With doting care you hold me We dance timeless dance sublime Music of love never stops. March 6, 2019 (Syllable count checked on howmanysyllables.com)...

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Tuned Ebony Shades of Ecstasy Here we are— black as the night; sable souls singing songs of Nubian love—slow dancing on opaque rhythmic nimbus clouds. Unshackled melodies of generations flow from charcoal tributaries slowly undulating—streaming between ebony sheen banks. Estuaries of ecstasy splash joyously into the wetness of the dark hued sea of our love. Tuned and harmonized in the abyss of relief, fading moans moor themselves: waiting the coming...

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Tuned Pipes She plays the organ To his standing ovation Her stage tickled pink connie pachecho 8/8/17...

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Calling all tuners! It’s time to convene To evaluate Trump and His “fine-tuned machine.” That’s the claim that he’s making But most seem to feel His machine might be missing A cog or a wheel… Or a lot more than that. It just makes the blood boil And to fix things, dear tuners, You’ll need more than oil. So get started right now And if we are in...

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Tuned Ebony Shades of Ecstasy Here we are— black as the night; sable souls singing songs of Nubian love—slow dancing on opaque rhythmic nimbus clouds. Unshackle melodies of generations flow from charcoal tributaries slowly undulating— streaming between ebony sheen banks. Estuaries of ecstasy splash joyously into the wetness of the dark hued sea of our love. Tuned and harmonized in the abyss of relief, fading moans moor themselves; waiting the...

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Aye, let me say It's not what ya think bout me, For I'll always be that, just me! Holler if ya want to, I'm not listening, For I'm not tuned in! Turn up the volume all ya want to, I still don't feel the lousy heat, I'm over you, over that too! Want to tell me a story All about me? I know me well and...

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