Lizzie Was Still A Woman: A Story
in Dream Poems
Lizzie was a gator wrestler,
bred on Louisiana's swamps.
Her daddy taught her how to hunt,
she was all the son a man could want.
in Dream Poems
Lizzie was a gator wrestler,
bred on Louisiana's swamps.
Her daddy taught her how to hunt,
she was all the son a man could want.
in Flower Poems
Through endless months of bitter cold
there were no traces of you there,
the ground so hard and barren
even nature didn't care.
Hurray! Another lovely poem from you. That has brightened my day. Please keep writing. With much love and very best wishes, Ann xxxx
The horror we endured that day,
The shock, the pain, the fear.
A nightmare unimaginable
To those of us still here.
The sun rose in her radiance
Above fields of green and gold.
She embraced Him with her subtle warmth
As in the morning glow, He strolled.
She use to show up every weekend
And brighten up my day.
She'd blow me kisses and she'd talk to me
In such a loving way.
I absolutely adore this poem, it has so many parallels between rescuing a dog and how I met my now fiancé at the dog park. We spent 8 months slowly getting to know each other via our dogs...
in Winter Poems
To awaken to a morning
where a chill pervades the air,
despite the brilliant dazzling sun
that blinds you with its glare.
in Snow Poems
We awakened to the whitest light
Seeping through the blinds.
We leapt from bed and to the windows
To take a probing peek outside.
Your poem is so beautifully written and contains such vivid images! It takes me right back to my childhood. I can almost feel the ice crystals hitting my face!
Best wishes,
Virginia
in Summer Poems
As the sun starts to fade into twilight
and a peacefulness settles in,
even nature grows lazy and sleepy
as the hum of the crickets begin.
I can see it, feel it and hear it - you have created such a vivid picture. Thank you, Patricia, for yet another beautiful poem. Love and very best wishes, Ann.
in Fall Poems
The endless green of summer
Has turned to golds and reds,
While the leaves are all a flutter,
Making pillows for our heads.
in Fall Poems
I once wore the deepest, emerald green
inside a cluster of plush, verdant leaves.
I bowed from an ancient, magnificent tree
and fluttered and danced in a warm spring breeze
Really nice poem with lovely lines and verses. Warmest wishes, James