Skip to main content
Main Content

🍂Collection of Poetry, Letters or Other Written Works🍁

Posted 2024-03-08 05:13:24
i feel like thats most peoples intention, to leave a sort of impression with their work but i think its nice at times to also have something thats not so profound and comments on the mundane and simple aspects of life. i know what you mean though i have concepts for a comic that im working on that has taken years to put together haha

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Posted 2024-03-08 06:14:17
Im gonna start posting some other nice poems ive found

The waters of the seas, the lakes, rivers
absorb all light waves of color
except blue.
Their blue and the blue of the heavens
enlighten thought, mood,
promote joy.

The human mind releases emotions
of happy, of curious, of passion,
of tenacity,
and of sadness, of grief—
of blue.

Why that color defines sadness
is hard to understand.

Our symbolism of color is rampant.
We can be red with anger, with embarrassment.
We can be green with envy, green in innocence.
We can be yellow in trepidation, in fear.

Ah, blue—aqua, azure, navy, teal,
midnight, sky, robin egg, baby.
I sing your message of calm,
of waves of hope.

-Marilyn Zelke Windau

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Posted 2024-03-08 06:14:30
How sweet I've wander'd bosom-deep in grain,
When Summer's mellowing pencil sweeps his shade
Of ripening tinges o'er the checquer'd plain:
Light tawny oat-lands with a yellow blade;
And bearded corn, like armies on parade;
Beans lightly scorch'd, that still preserve their green;
And nodding lands of wheat in bleachy brown;
And streaking banks, where many a maid and clown
Contrast a sweetness to the rural scene,--
Forming the little haycocks up and down:
While o'er the face of nature softly swept
The ling'ring wind, mixing the brown and green
So sweet, that shepherds from their bowers have crept,
And stood delighted musing o'er the scene.

-John Clare

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Posted 2024-03-08 06:14:57
In the body of a copper-winged dragonfly
a Tiffany lampshade comes to life in my garden.
Tail a dark rust, she lands on an arm of the geranium.

Close up I see the fair down on her thorax,
the wide, red head with two white dots on back --
are they eyes? She allows me to inspect

the marvel of her body, and I feel like a suitor,
leaning forward in my chair to ask the dragonfly
about her life, about other gardens she has seen.

She flies away on russet wings laced
with delicate panes, up and over the red brick
wall, to join the abundant beauty of the world.

-Tamara Madison

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Posted 2024-03-08 06:15:15
The sun of early spring melts
the last coldness from the ground as
yellow colts-foot rise along dirt roads,
before daffodils, before soft
fingers of tulips and fields
buzzing with dandelions.
It is the season of yellow.
Pansy faces speak from pots,
owls watch from trees wide-eyed,
finches turn as yellow as swallowtails
filling even the air. After yellow
everything is possible.

-Jennie Pollard

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Posted 2024-03-08 06:33:25
That John Clare poem is incredible. Thanks for sharing! Would love to see your comic some day!

Skye
#95023

Posted 2024-03-21 15:01:04
yeah i just post when i find neat ones and they usually come in bunches
ill keep you in mind when i start working on drawing chapters though haha

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Posted 2024-03-21 15:04:42
The garden store has flats of pansies.
Hardy enough to bounce back after a frost,
they promise spring color before it's safe
for impatiens or petunias.

I head home with twenty-four plants,
purple faces cheerfully grinning.
and spend the morning in a coat,
carving holes with a hand shovel.

Turning moist earth, I recall
that my father taught me
to position plants before digging
and gently loosen tangled roots.

Daddy used to say it's more practical
to purchase perennials, plants that come
back year after year like returning memories.

But today I put my faith in pansies,
heart-shaped petals not too fragile
for the lingering chill in the air.

-Jacqueline Jules

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Posted 2024-03-21 15:07:17
My daughter digs up worms
from the old garden and moves them
one at a time to the new one,
her love of animals clear
in the way she carefully cradles
each one in a bare hand
letting the worm squirm
wherever it will across
her palm, keeping the other
hand below to catch it
should it go too far in any direction.
My wife plans, plots,
decides, directs number,
width, depth, selection.
I dig, set in place,
carry water. Together
we make again a garden
to tend, grow, sustain
us

-Scott Owens

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Posted 2024-03-21 15:08:39
Up too early, already working,
multiple Word docs open
and so many Chrome tabs
I can't see their icons
when abruptly everything
I type is

CAPITALIZED.
I CAN'T FIND THE CAUSE.
IT'S NOT THE CAP LOCK BUTTON
OR JAMMED SHIFT KEY.
IT'S NOT A CAPS ONLY FONT
OR A SETTINGS CHANGE.

I laugh at how urgent
everything suddenly seems
when
each
letter
screams.

Save everything, close everything,
hit "restart" and while waiting, take
my bare feet out on the grass
where morning sky is beginning
to lift night's curtain.
My breath deepens.

I bless the cars rushing by
and the world we've made out of hurry,
Wish we all might replace words
like BUSY with words like
meander    mosey    stroll    dally
saunter  amble  linger  dawdle.


When I go back to work
my newly rested desktop
has calmed, reminding me
how much we all need
to ease ourselves back
into our lower-case selves.

-Laura Grace Weldon

Sunflower🌻
#133501

Search Topic