Well Worn Poems - Poems about Well Worn

Well worn and read, “The Pearl.” The end. I’ll start at the beginning. Strung pearls around my neck - I dare to wear them to the library. My coworker has to tell me, she only wears hers to church. Well, I’ll be. These came straight from China, not free but not expensive. Sparknotes, my friend, reminds me that a great find, a precious jewel might hang about...

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The beauty of a well worn saddle If only it could speak of its earlier days It’s wear tells a story, marred by the rub of denim on the open range The saddle soap stain; mottled by an early spring rain The busted stitches; the remnants from a horse’s mane It’s decorative leather tassels weathered and frayed Manifesting a story...

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I walked along a well worn path And think of things I thought would last Of the sunshine without pain That came in such a sweet refrain But I know now of other things And the wonder that life brings Then promises of what might be But they can die so easily Now I live in the twilight Wondering if things will be...

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well worn are words ever well worn, used up their meanings no longer relevant tasks completed, comes retirement set aside, ignored then forgotten burned by the fire of speeches grey and crumbled from too many obituaries “it is with deep regret” is “regret” not enough are there shades, gradients of regret? was “deep “ added to prevent regret from wearing out? what is that squishy pile pushed...

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WELL-WORN PATH OF SHOES shoes ~ saddle with gray and blue catholic uniform dove white ~ easter sandals dressed in ‘60’s powder blue sneakers with my uniform last minute mistake mercy meted me a guard duty post click~click~slick cruise ship formal night not for love, arm in arm delicate walk to dining room catherine de medici taller well-heeled so we...

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Voices are low, and the pages unfold Dusty worn jackets, on paper-back shores Classics of old, or a best-seller's gold Renaissance store, with a bent spinal core Latitude shelves, heavy with multitudes Autographed copies, fiction and lore Chapters reread, opened with gratitude Mouldy with knowledge, slumbering fiction Sung once again, birthing new attitudes Language and diction, viewed with conviction I find new...

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