Whistle Poems - Poems about Whistle

train whistle blues reflecting my saddest moods there she blows again sounds like she’s lost a friend for what does she lament? her wail sounds heaven-sent Is it a who or a lost love? she sounds fragile as a turtle dove...

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such longing in a long sad, drawn-out train whistle do metal objects have feelings? this sound makes the idea plausible...

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train whistle, a seldom heard sound, long and low this morning I wonder if this train is transporting people or cattle or people treated like cattle or cattle dressed like people...

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Train whistle of desperation Speaks of others travels Is it hauling people or cattle? One big difference People wear tennis shoes...

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Knew a young chickie named Joan Had a full body erogenous zone Just shaking her hand Blew her whistle and Her face turned a deep crimson tone ...

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The Whistlepig Jig I sat upon my porch one day my pennywhistle for to play. When out stepped Mr. Whistle-pig, I thought to dance a jig. “I left the comfort of my den,” says he,”to satisfy my yen. I hear this high-pitched trilling noise, emanating from your little toy.” “This is no little toy”, says I, “so what do you imply?” “I do not like...

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I have a broken birdwhistle. It sits on my desk Underneath the harsh lamplight. Its end is chipped And I don't know if it still works. I've been too scared to try it, Cause if it doesn't That means I wasted my money. According to my parents, anyway; They gave me that money after all. He's really pretty though. I named him Oak, Because when I got...

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[Picture prompt#2:] Wee Winnie Whistle, arms full of thistle, To welcome the town's Garden Officials. Come here to honor Wee Winnie, For helping so many, Bring gardens to life from artificial! Before Winnie Wee came initially, All gardens were artificial, you see? So with her green thumb, She changed every one, To living gardens that bring so much glee!...

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The less I move my lips at my 4:00 am Saturday morning sessions The more These words are trees standing still beside a racing river A long way away Freight train bores the night Moon without light Its alto horn Projects from nowhere entangles everywhere Uninhibited By barren maples and icy roads Abandoned homes and snowdrifts A shadow walking his dog under planets of street lights All powerless...

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O give thanks unto the Lord: for he is good: for his mercy endureth forever Ogive thanks unto the God of gods: for his mercy endureth forever Ogive thanks to the Lord of lords for his mercy endureth...

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I waited for the day to come When the whistle will blow For it to let me know That the time was now It never happened Do it now the time is now For there is never a whistle nor a blower To tell you to do...

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Smoke bellows in sky chugging uphill whistle blows sending birds flying...

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He sold penny whistles From inside the little sack Slung over one shoulder And hanging down his back And he filled them full of magic So for one whole day Anyone who bought one Learned how to play And he taught them to dance And he taught them to sing And he taught them jazz And he taught them to swing And each penny whistle knew One hundred...

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A thin-lipped nun blows her whistle. An acre of concrete ground stops playing, acting-out our brief make-believe lives. Reality is a cold wind chewing at pale knees, gray shorts and blue skirts. Catholic children forget their names, their made-up names as well. as they march into the bricked block where classrooms are already shouting instructions. Old now, we forget how it felt, as we filed into the bare-boned...

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A whistling toad is an abomination to the soul and a barking dog is enough to start the brawl; the wind cannot keep still because it is draining energy from the flour mill, the yellow jacket wasp is flying around and it is looking for something to confound. It suddenly landed on my hand but...

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