Let's experiment with a poetry form today called Ballade Poetry, #29 of a collection of 100+ Poetic Forms.
peace
Two Hundred and Eleven Months, By Donna Matthews
Let's experiment with a poetry form today called Triversen Poetry, #27 of a collection of 100+ Poetic Forms.
Trapped Inside, By Donna Matthews
Let's experiment with a poetry form today called TriCube Poetry, #25 of a collection of 100+ Poetic Forms
This Place, By Donna Matthews
This Place is #24 in this collection I'm calling, very simply, 100+ Poetic Forms.
Certainly, By Donna Matthews
Today's poem, Certainly, is a Tautogram poem and is #23 of a collection called 100+ Poetic Forms.
Soon Comes Christmas, By Donna Matthews
Today's poem, Soon Comes Christmas, is a Palindrome poem and is #21 of a collection called 100+ Poetic Forms.
A Place Within- Michael Erickson
Long have these hours been, Where my mind does wander. Between soaring walls of stone, Upon a lazy river run wild. Each of these shining moments seem to glide, Effortless upon a cool autumn breeze. As soft as velvet hooves upon a sun warmed bank, Let us drink in each twisting turn of this life … Continue reading A Place Within- Michael Erickson
Silent Pressing Hours- Michael Erickson
In these silent pressing hours, Just before the growing dawn, When darkness seems to be its strongest, And our world trembles beneath ball that’s wrong, Hope is but a moths wing fluttering by candlelight, What can one do but quietly crumble, For the dawn will never come. Yet in this solemn darkness I can reach … Continue reading Silent Pressing Hours- Michael Erickson
Finding Nature’s Peace- Michael Erickson
Wrapped in the complications of modern life, I seek to break the surface of this suffocating miasma. Where can I turn to find a lip or ledge to push up from, My soul burns with frustration to find a way up. Turn my thoughts away from each troubling siren call, I reach for the only … Continue reading Finding Nature’s Peace- Michael Erickson
A Prayer For Green- Michael Erickson
As a child I stood by a rusting fence, Waiting for you to walk out your back door. There’d be a flash of while against black suspenders, And you’d be out the door with your metal cane. I’d stand there waiting to hear water run, Hiding behind leaves so wide they hid my face. You’d … Continue reading A Prayer For Green- Michael Erickson
