Wets Poems - Poems about Wets

...Mayst tell them, though they leave a sacred land, Where every inch with rich conception spanned, With diligence, in Hades mayst they find A path that to Elysian Fields doth wind. So many burden......

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...Loverboy staring out the window, the stars gleaming so prettily The meadow's bathing in silver light of the moon; it is such a perfect night Loverboy sighs at the darkness, candlelight dimming as t......

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... Water, a word that passes... a scarce memory when it is missing... a current that comes together, that wets with joy and gently marks, It is......

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...Four seasons fill a year’s colours of time and fills the core of human shell and gourd - in that fullness of youth’s Spring balm its prime will reap the honied hive of years endured. And......

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...In a garden of shadows and lights, where thoughts bloom like hydrangeas under the moonlight, Should I trust in feelings that dance like the wind among the leaves of unfulfilled dreams, Or in the mi......

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...The Eucharistic Flame A Metaphysical Poem O Sacred Fire, O Bread of Light, Thy essence veiled, yet burning bright. Within this chalice, gold and pure, A cosmic truth the meek endure. I ta......

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... In your eyes I see anger reign, you splutter words like acid rain. Sane sense turns to ash in my view, as I discover myself new I don’t drag you in pit of hate, don’t blaze in reve......

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...My Valentine has a ticket to ride, So London town beware! New wings will carry her up north, A pass to Leicester Square. Let Big Ben toll and chime aloud, St James Park should prepare, The hu......

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...Old wishes carried into the new year, Former desires brought into the new year, Dim lamps longing for brightness in the new year, Incomplete books searching for the missing pages in the new year, ......

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...Mom spilled hot stew, wets a pal, lap short-shorts, Dad yelled its hot, loop pool pop dive exhorts, Mom says not that sort of hot, Pip, spi......

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... Water, passing movement, scarce memory when there is no shortage... ......

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... As the melting clouds descend down to drench you, why rave rupture wets you, you’ve no clue. Sheen flows on onyx tress train, grains of glow remain soaked in sleek rain, pours in s......

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...Charred wood and ash stink, after fires in Garigal high-country. A single crow cries road-side, on a black tree-post guarding road kill – a round brown wallaby with feet stuck-up. Ash co......

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...when being a wild editor would constantly fight with a creditor who was a pretty puny predator with mouth open wide lied about what was inside their tongue had been tied (in hell would abide)......

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... With high-altitude ambitions, they climb the hilltop to catch the signal. They are lush and lovely as the landscape behind them. These children of the forest live in the network-less valley ......

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