Wading Poems - Poems about Wading

Wading

And here I am,
jeans rolled up to the knees,
barefoot, wading the shallows 
with arguments tugging
at my feet, pulling me out
as if answers were waiting
beyond where the water
lifts into breaking waves,
the calm on the end
of a rip.

The incessant call 
washes unrest across
my feet and seeps into where
it tunes itself to the notes
of a longing. Plucked by

Wading Thru February

I sometimes feel like I want to die.
Some days I wonder why I even try. 

So many times I feel so alone.
Can't seem to even figure out when I'm using a tone.

Torn between needing to cry and needing to scream...
What happened to what once felt like the kinda love that some only dream?

I hear you

Wading Out

Tired of the mind stuff.
It's hard to be free 
of all those words
that drag behind like a long chain,
clinking in the silence. 
Each weighted step leaves evidence,
deep prints beyond the reach
of waves and tide. They stay,
fossilized in stone, stretched back
across time, hanging on
to the heel and added to 
by every taken step.

Think of wading out

Wading Rhapsody's Bliss

To beautify him further lacks only a gilded spark divine, love eternal unbound.
The night was young we stood closely, the moment held, we shared a kiss.
His incendiary sunshine smile could melt the polar ice and snowy ground.
I wade pining for another touch of your lips, silky and warm, rhapsody’s bliss.

The night was young, we stood

Just Wading

Last year I got into trouble; 
It was certain my digits would double!
"Eighty-seventh time!"
Meant stop, that's the line!
Now my clear upper limit's a puddle!

Wading

Not sure where we stand
                                  We must agree on a plan
           

Farewell, Youthful Days of Wading In Crystal Clear Streams

Farewell, Youthful Days Of Wading In Crystal Clear Streams

Farewell, the coming dawn and its soft, golden glow
born as infant fawn, a peaceful river in flow
or a memory of life beneath crescent moon
Refreshing breeze, shade's breath, simmering in hot June.

Farewell, that dream, a glory yet to be unfurled
Predawn vision of happiness in this sad world
or true

Nine Years of Wading

nine years ago today my sweet sister Karen took her last breath under a Colorado Pine - feels like yesterday...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

every New Year’s Eve i write of you,
for your death has given much debris-
nine years of wading in your reverie, 
resolutions of trying to break through
all the tides cascading in a rippled sea...
o, a rippled sea

Silk Wading

Silk wading thru wistfully warm sea waters,
my dreamy fingers have lingered to potter
with ocean surface, sun sparkled glitters.
My poetic pieces have gone full twitter
in charmed waters of crystal clear rarity
where I felt God's love soothe life's severity.

Slowly easing into ocean powered waves,
my playful moods have seriously caved
from forceful, salt stinging, brutal wave smacks.
My body has

Saturday Surprise

riding gravel roads, windows down
finding a favorite shady spot
afternoon picnic, wading in the creek
Saturday Surprise from my childhood
let's go out to eat, fifties style.

August 27, 2019
Writing Challenge 3, August 2019 - Five Lines -
Sponsor - Dear Heart- Wiishkobi Ode

Fill a Wading Pool Please

I am watering my flowers and some bushes.
I have a plethora of vegetation here.
Next I shall fill up the wading pool with fresh water.
Not because there are any children here,
but because my husband once saw a thirsty fox on a hot day
trying to drink out of an empty wading pool.

Summer Full of Fun

Summer, you are so warm and full of fun

  no secret children love to wade, swim, play

  in the cool pond when winter they had none.

Days brief the sunshine hurry upon their way.

5/15/2019



A Dream Worth Living

A dream worth living for
Born in the image of an unspoiled soul
Newborn stretches it's small limbs 
Hungers, cries,

Wading Through

133
So moving on
I wade through
The poetry
Waiting for
What I will see
When I get back out

Wading For You

Before I leave from this world
A vision of you I yearn to see
Intrepidly my heart leads on
I possess the door but not the key

A swan on this lake of love
Loneliness, finally, has reared its head
Cold is the lake I am drifting on
I search the shallows for warmth instead

No comfort to be found for my aching

Wading In Coolest Streams of Subconscious Delights

Wading In Coolest Streams Of Subconscious Delights

Often I wish my life had been a lost feather,
blowing up high within a sea swept moaning gale.
Lost but quite content in such furious weather
spirit justly weighted upon a cosmic scale.
Often this young heart seeks even greater release
wading in coolest streams of subconscious delights.
Seeking love and joy greater than

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