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Best Poems Written by Jt Vedder

Below are the all-time best Jt Vedder poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Salt and Pepper

Laughing loons calling to you Blood red eyes diving deeper Until they surface, bellies full and fat Salt and pepper feathers dance in the sun Gliding past sound sleeping cedars on shore The lake sitting still like glass Under steamy morning breathe Hiding from the sun rays streaking down soft Spring time cold, in the height of summer days Crystal clear and deep, bottom disappears Surrounded in dense forest Humming summer melodies Peat moss beneath the shadows of tall pines Blanket to the rock basement of the woods Nature’s curtain it wraps around the lake Few people ever visit Only the lucky ones do Escape to drift upon calm clear waters Troll for lake trout while basking in the sun Silent they observe nature’s sweetest gifts Think heaven is over head? Or, perhaps right here instead March 24, 2018

Copyright © Jt Vedder | Year Posted 2018



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Pirates and Poets

The poets are like the pirates, Who steal your love instead. Hide it away with treasure and gold, Mark it with that solemn X. Before stumbling back to sanity, Clutching only maps and memories. Rolling on the laughing open seas, Until the hidden love beckons. The pirates are like the poets, Hopelessly in love.

Copyright © Jt Vedder | Year Posted 2018

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Ghost

Ghost And the feelings are fleeting, As the love slowly dies, Like a candle at the end of its wick, The flame choking for breath, Sputtering and clinging to life, As it slowly descends into the hot puddle of wax, What once promised longevity and preservation, Has now become impending doom, Waiting to feast on forgotten love, Love is a funny game, It follows no rules, It preys on the dreamers, It preys on the poets, It preys on us all, the damned fools, And as the flame flickers to smoke, It wisps away in a thin pale line, A ghost of the flame, That haunts and teases, Until another spark erupts, From the cold dark wax, The flame will again prosper, On the love as it passes.

Copyright © Jt Vedder | Year Posted 2018

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A Letter On the Desktop

Folded neat a letter sleeps, Paper has leant ear to pen, Whispered ink slowly seeps, Blood red blue in steady hand, Those stabbing words so neatly planned, Promise not if, but when. Now the burning eye sweeps, Through a letter on the desktop again, While the heart behind blindly weeps. Another hourglass losing sand, Love choked by the wedding band, This is now, that was then. 5/7/2018 ABACCB - "Rhyme Time 3 Contest" Sponsor: Laura Loo

Copyright © Jt Vedder | Year Posted 2018

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Coaxed

Coaxed I coaxed that cork, From the bottle again, Spoke to it, Like my long lost friend. Lips listened close, To the stories it told, Long after the wick, Of the candle went cold. The bottom of the bottle, Keeps collecting the tears, A well getting deeper, Being dug by the years. So I called to god, But he called my bluff, He knows too well, That too much is never enough. Keep on flicking this flint, Searching for a spark, Running from the days, Dancing in the dark. Burnt out like the last, Of these cheap cigarettes, When you don’t know what you want, You never want what you get. So tip toe slowly, Through the broken glass, Fragmented memories, Scattered like the past. Found an old photo, In the back of a book, Black and white four-frame, Of a smiling child was took. Pin it to the wall, With the rest of the dreams, The world aint’ always falling, Quite as hard as it seems.

Copyright © Jt Vedder | Year Posted 2018



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North

Sunday sun floating high,
Sleepy clouds drift the sky,
Gentle breeze dancing slow,
Chasing tall grass to and fro.

Winding river gurgles and chokes,
With darting minnows the current jokes,
River stones holding fast, 
Sitting still like polished glass.

The deep pools glimmer and shine,
Descending deeper than the mind, 
The bouldered shore sits in wait,
For broken waves to meet their fate.

Pudding stone mountains tower above,
Blinding white like feathered dove,
The rugged land reaches on,
Through the meadows that welcome dawn.

No matter how far the fool roams,
This is the place to call home,
The stubborn compass pointing forth,
Follows the beckoning call of the North.

Copyright © Jt Vedder | Year Posted 2019


Book: Reflection on the Important Things