Wreathed Poems - Poems about Wreathed

...It whispers low on midnight’s breath, A shadow wreathed in mist and death. Not born of grace, but spectral might, It haunts the veil 'tween dark and light. It stirs the winds, it bends ......

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... To the skies...cries of have we sinned..the seasons spinned...winter grinned as before it’s really beginned...spring’s been sneakily binned.. That bitter wind does cheekily blow...delivers tingl......

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...The sky never complains about the storms, but homes clusters of things we’ve lost~ to form a canopy of comfort, amidst electric threads, suffocating in silence. When cold is the air ~ tender ......

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... Mulled Cider Memories Santa Claus sees what we are doing. We rejoice in grandly... snow-shoeing. And, oh we do love our hot, mulled cider. Especially next t......

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...madhouse of a ménage à trois — the bawdy chamber of the blitz, where three depraved darlings conspired in pagan rituals, their lover's lament a discordant dirge amidst, detritus of a bygone era, ......

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... I slept and then October with stealth crept in. I knew it when a breeze blew in. Crisp and clean, it softly breathed and wreathed the trees......

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...How pure the joy in this man's life How mighty till the end His greatest work - his girl, his boy Their father and their friend. Yet sweeter still their children brought Such laughter with......

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...Is there enough adjectives I can use, to sew these sensitive sensations to you, when my dandelion heart is dense with combustible phrases, and my sunken soul is weeping into the wearines......

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... Written: February 27, 2024 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dwindling diamond daub, an amber glittering glow diaphanous verism of glass and yet… wreathed in wisteria-washed......

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...You who have become the moon of the new moon, Lost in realms unknown, You’re not found through searching, These eyes no longer see. Should I now call upon you, Compose verses to celebrate, How ......

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... This is what the wicked are like— always free of care, they go on amassing wealth. Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure and have washed my hands in innocence ~ Psalm 73:12-13 A wi......

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...Stepping through the pine and holly wreathed front entrance of the homeless shelter, as a Christmas Eve snowfall decorated the city, I carried a fresh turkey, I heard joyous singing of adults and......

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...My heart may break, wreathed in somber silence. Yet I care, I search for valleys of peace, where rare black orchids bloom through violence, for fallen leaves too shall caramelize, and kindness to......

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...Natural soporific narcotic Recurrent suicidal thoughts vaingloriously wend along winding road within windmills of my mind (o'er a death cab for cutie weeknd) yakking, yanking, and yawking zea......

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...Strange, after living so long apart the things that resurrect the memory of your touch; a vanilla-scented candle, the taste of Turkish coffee; or the way flower petals graze my skin so softly; th......

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