Wicket Poems - Poems about Wicket

**The Wicket-Keeper** Today, I learned that a lover I once cherished has passed away. Just yesterday, he was alive, and I never imagined I would feel this way about him. It’s strange how I rarely think about the rain unless it floods my drains, my driveway, or my beloved rose garden, or dampens my happy mood....

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Sticky Wicket O molasses sticky wicket - A groaning preached of tips malaise. In Boston’s North, ever thicket - O molasses sticky wicket. Each towny hand, with no picket, And hellfire now, they could not raise. O molasses sticky wicket - A groaning preached of tips malaise. An engineer they should have used. Epic deluge - they could not swim. Tum’ ache of tank, shouldn’t have...

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I have seen plenty of things never been experienced by an alive eye socket. I have been through the struggle of filling my empty pockets. Call me a sprocket. But I have valid questions. Like, when will our country restore its status as food basket? When will I have fresh water in the bucket? When will I have my next brisket? With...

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I. sent home, undeniably smooth faced & a smile traveled ten miles shocking, the electronic stint reading, reading, reading the library; it’s closed bought instant pot; soups pressuring, ladeled into two bowls. Lemony cake with more lemony frosting because he asked me too; nothing else to do stuck, at home; sticky wicket — wicked season II. curbside return, a farside cartoon; grand opening tables and chairs tied up like victims; taped up mouths — wall plates my...

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A lover I once knew, die today he was alive yesterday I never thought of him this way. I never think about the rain Unless it flood my drains, my driveway, my rose garden Or dampened my happy mood Why would the death of my lover Leave me so sad, and blue Tender moment of affection: edgy days Relationships have it up and...

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