Music Work Poems

I want you to come to me
With all the reasons good.
With nothing much to worry about,
Less to be misunderstood.

I want you to look at me
With...

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I was a college music teacher, engaged in pitch, tempo, rhythm and melody,
As lavish planets dance around a golden star, with the zeal of fuchsia...

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Quote By Poet "Time is a funny thing. It is here, it is gone.
Never to be found again." 

As l get older,
I find the same...

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Making bells ring and sing
Within the beating soul
Within the ringing heart
Of the community
Playing my hidden part

Making bells ring and sing
Handstroke and soon backstroke
Feeling the church’s...

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I am now up and half asleep, 
quiet I must not make a peep, 
others are still sleeping like sheep, 
need to get dressed and...

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I was quite the cunning magician, famed for my illusions and sleight of hand,
Like cool tricks that jade green nature plays, that often we don't...

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I was a skilled, dedicated CIA agent, helping to preserve national security,
By searching for and garnering information, as silvery rain ensures purity.

Days were spent perusing...

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The Busy Office

In the busy office, where the papers fly
And the typewriters clack their endless song
There is no room for beauty or for joy
But only...

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Creative


Some days I am a thinker stuck in a worker’s world,

A pontificator and procrastinator with no clear sense or goal,

I am lost in my thoughts,...

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As a child, 
I loved to watch Grandpa build. 
His basement workshop, 
was filled with tools. 
Tools hanging on every wall, 
wood neatly stacked in...

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Quote By Author "Dear Writer, Have a blessed day 
writing away your beautiful writes to all of the readers."

A writer chooses their words with glory,
their...

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I remember when Grandpa used me everyday,                  ...

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I am not sure what size shoes I now wear,
it is hard to be small with skin so fair.
Wishing I was reading in a big...

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Quote By Poet "Money like honey is sweet to taste but money can sting you."

If money was the way
we would be happy everyday
then why are...

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** An exercise: write a sonnet in iambic pentameter.

With heavy heart, I offer my remorse,
for I'm too tired to dance this weary eve.
The echoes of...

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