Wavey Poems | Examples

Storms Will Pass

"over the waters blue the night winds sigh,
    The breakers roar... " Lord Byron  

"Over the waters blue the night winds sigh
The breakers roar..." Waves collapse before my eyes.
I catch my breath, looking up at the sky,
I express deep awe; The glory replies -
The breeze whispers softly in my ears.
Tenderly, it dries away my tears.
The glittering moon distracts from fears.
It guides the night til each new day nears.

Out on the ocean sailing alone
The ship, though sturdy, is not like home.
The silver-black sea, I venture, I roam.
A storm now approaches! I'm tossed and thrown.
Great monstrous clouds gather ominously!
Wavey tongues taste this ship hungrily!
The appetite swells in the restless sea.
Will shipwreck result? What catastrophe!

The storm dies down with a slow, long hiss.
A new day begins in golden bliss.
"Over the waters blue the night winds sigh
The breakers roar..." Chant the seagulls near by.

Crows In the Wheatfield

The country road split the wheat field in half
A murder of crows seemed to prefer the right
Hope they leave some to winnow from the chaff
Crows seem but wavey lines against the night
A spectacular sight in the twilight

Fields of wheat in the final golden stage
Ready for the harvesters to earn their wage 
Golden grains that hungry men have desired
This art lifts up some memories to engage
Remember the dirt road our love once required    

Artful work: Crows In The Wheatfield by Vincent Van Gogh 

Written: February 11, 2023

The Cool Evening Airs

The cool evening airs
Sweeps across her moonlit hair
Gently laying, bare her extraordinary beauty.
By a pleasant breeze of fragrant air
That blows gently across her wavey hair.
Hypnotically twisting and flittering
Curling and swirling her flowing hair
with each gentle breeze
That I could not stop but to stare
Oh Blair, My Blair
how much more can I bare,
I sit here in profound despair.
Naturally wondering
if you genuinely care.

Silver Surfer

I saw an old lady at home
Whose habits bizarre when alone!
She thinks she's abroad
On her ironing board
Surfing tides in a wavey zone.

Her arms and her legs were well spread.
Her curlers tucked neat on her head.
Her pearls sparkled bright,
She squealed with delight,
"Well I can't do this when I'm dead!"

Affectionately dubbed "Silver Surfer"
What a spirit for any to care for!
A tonic indeed
When humour's the need,
And for it the board ain't much worse, awe! 


Written 14th July 2022
For the "Limerick" contest
(For a picture of a lady standing on
 an ironing board, poised like a surfer.)
Sponsor: Lisa YY

Resonant Nonjudgments

I would not judge someone
and then some dreadful thing
or some nasty place
or some too distant time.

Let me, instead,
invite judgment from
that one relationship in real spacetime,

Until we each and all resiliently find
what we need
and want
for healthy wealth co-acclimation

Open,
free of negative judgments against,
free to
and for cooperatively changing transubstantiation
known and felt
into warm seasoned creolicizanation
for solidarity
of resilient vulcanintegrationalization,
intra-
and inter-nations.

I would instead be judged in wealthy favor
by some singing simpler one,
healthier flavored for some wavey-swinging hyphenated thing,
abundantly resonant for some pleasantly compliant place,
rooted in solid resilience
for 4D mind-maps left multiculturing race
and emotive time's 
right mind
rhythm seasoned grace
pace of timeless space

Let us inside trade instead,
invite outside gratitude from,
that one perennially cooperative nutritional relationship
in real bilaterally timed Earth space,
timeless intrapersonal place,
humane-divinely transpiring
turning
twisting
twirling
teasing
untruncating grace.

Cavey Wavey

Like to be God
That or Captain Caveman

My Three Real Life Crush's

Number One
She's tall and over fifty
with black and grey wavey hair
She comes to the library so often
I sometimes wonder why she's there
She like all the rest of us
plays her on line games
I find myself looking at her
and don't even know her name
Number Two
Also at the library works
another over fifty
Her frizzy red hair
turns me on and I find it
kind of nifty 
Sometimes I can't help myself
I stare until the door closes
I know she suspects
my following eyes
that see's her movement
as poses
Number Three
The picture of innocence
this third one can proclaim
Her kindergarten teacher image
has me going quietly insane
Her perfect face and perfect eyes
Almost never wears a smile
It's part of her jaded image
Her "I'm so cool" style

Cardinal Dance

Dance with wind's breezing flow
blowing in as out,
breathing out then in again
hands and feet extremities of life breath's hard felt flow
swimming rich re-connecting rhythmic flight
stance of natural spirits timing
red cardinal patterns perching 
heart flight moments
held on fragrant lilac parasols
sun lighting branches

growing down into deep elder grey rivers
of hard-shelled sappy gravity
growing out 
glancing in
through flirting eyes without flow
in bearing life's wavey chances 
out

Dancing rhythmic breaths 
and red blue bloods,
nurture revolving rueful rivers
of sufi EarthDancing

lilac trees with winding sap
from well-souled root systems
flowing life's swirling prance

collaterally cunning 
uncapitalized content.

Dancing breath embodied wind
kneading Earth's flee 
and flow without
breathless sighted flights 
of echoing re-ligious image

flying cardinal reds 
through purple dancing 
lit up lover lilacs.

Drunken Moon

full moon's reflection

mellow on the *wavey sea. . .

i feel so wasted


*wavey is urban slang for very drunk
Written July 3, 2015 by Andrea Dietrich

Pink Flesh

.

Up I lift your petite thews as your
            pneuma follows

                   ahhh
              your breasts
                mine face
                your swell
            from mine trace

            Like the feather
                 so slight
   so much like the Robin’s egg
          I must softly touch
         in fear of thine crush

Platinum blond wavey long locks
          pretty bright blues
and pink flesh from our long days
                     sun

                  kiss me
               shut me up

We Are the Women

We are the women..
Who full of life, 
pluvial in attendance, 
Fresheners in sweetness, 
Tranquil decorated with flowers, 
Spilling like spring, 
Gleeful, like the wind 
Flavored by the seasonings love, 
Wavey, glowing on the sands of desire, 
Adorer, lover, raring to love that never
'broken nor unfulfilled' 
Flirting under fabrics texts and above! 
, 
So let him come to us
The one who is collecting the sea 
In our evening silk..! !

Ice Cream Kisses

you take a second look
and laugh at me
as ice cream drips from sunburnt face
and there are no napkins
i come closer to you
kissing you on your cheek
leaving chocolate ripples
and wavey kiss marks as souveniers

august 5,2012

Discombobulated

indecisive 
over analyzing every possible outcome
how come it gets more difficult and complex with every passing minute?
just when I think I’ve figured it out
it gets more twisted and intricate
either way I gotta do what’s best for me
as simple as it may sound
it is far beyond easy
breezy and lifted so wavey
with ideas and plans
when it all boils down to it 
my life is only in my hands….
to be continued (this is not the end, for it is merely the beginning)

The Dream Wedding Story

i remember the long pink gown.
the flower's in her hair.
she had brown wavey hair.
then there was those shiney glass slippers.
her family said she looked like cinderella with  brown hair.
she thought she heard you may kiss the bride.
then she woke up and the sound she heard was just the rain outside her window.
then she laughed and said wait im already married!

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