Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Moonlight graces leaves, Earth's heartbeat in silent sway, Nature's dance begins.
By Printique Studios3 years ago in Poets
Two hundred years ago, plus two score, A craftsman walked through a forest. He carefully chose the wood. When it was ready to use,
By Natalie Wilkinson3 years ago in Poets
He hugged her tight, and she smiled wide. He gave her light, and she never lied. Protector of my dreams, the keys to my wisdom.
By J. K. Anderson3 years ago in Poets
He had taken this wilted flower, straight from a garden, where sad and beautiful she had grown - with no love of her own.
By Rasma Raisters3 years ago in Poets
Powerful, sweeping curves, so fluid, Struck from the hand of but a young artist With only chisel and hammer in hand, Each sure and smooth strike of his tools,
By Cindy Calder3 years ago in Poets
The art of unwriting. Say it. Say it better. Then say less to prompt more. Let readers connect dots, see stills as motion.
By Richard Seltzer3 years ago in Poets
In the breeze, deep thoughts, Leaves cradle life's mysteries, Autumn's wisdom speaks.
NaNoWriMo the Frenemy Poem You must push yourself, rush yourself, cram in that writing time. Steal a minute, an hour, work until the clock chimes.
By Jemma Jae3 years ago in Poets
UNKNOWN GUNMEN I know the unknown gunmen They are those young graduates First class and second class students Their Government gave them gun
By Ochia Divine Kas 3 years ago in Poets
I found this post three weeks ago Ho Ho Ho The Elf On this Sheft was too cute to pass Ho Ho Ho He iron out the crickle Chips to perfection
By Mariann Carroll3 years ago in Poets
Grace in each footfall, Canvas of life, hues abound, Moments, diverse dance, Threads of humanity weave, In each blend, resilience blooms.
Engulfed in the desert's parched silence I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind We knew how it would begin But didn’t foresee the end
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
