You have four wheels and like to go. The price to feed you is not so low. Buying fuel is so outrageous. I might have to trade you in for a horse and buggy and call myself Mavis.
By Stephanie Downard3 years ago in Poets
hand painted- wide brimmed- strangely sculpted- pop culture referenced- - whether sheltering my ginger tea- or holding ice cream scoops-
By Jada Ferguson3 years ago in Poets
You’re a thin chap, Out of necessity, As if you had another choice, Portly doesn’t pay in your line of work, There squished between pages 55 and 56,
By Michael Wheat3 years ago in Poets
You may not wear a cape or cowl. and others might see thee as just a towel. You may not fight villains galore, but what you do is so much more.
By ChristopherWrites3 years ago in Poets
In chambers draped with childhood's gleam, Upon a shelf, a figure lies, A doll, unmoving, eyes that dream, A friend of old, under timeless skies.
By Abnoan Muniz3 years ago in Poets
Oh, slender wand of ink and grace, A bridge 'twixt thought and written trace, With simple form and purpose clear, You bring to life what we hold dear.
Dear Senses, Oh, the pleasure you bring to my life– beloved Taste, Touch, Smell, Hearing, and last, but certainly not least, Sight!
By Kristen Balyeat3 years ago in Poets
Oh coffee, I pledge my undying devotion to thee. It is with awe I marvel at your morning sovereignty. I exhale pure bliss with you upon my lips as though I hath never known the pleasure of you before.
By Mary E Bradbury3 years ago in Poets
In the moon's gentle glow, whiskers aglow, Silent hunters prowl, with grace they bestow. Eyes like emeralds, secrets they keep,
By Hanas Faizal3 years ago in Poets
You are always there when I need a hand, Literally, because my hands are always full, What brilliant levels of tat you can withstand,
By ThatWriterWoman3 years ago in Poets
Oh floppy disk, in plastic square you sit, Once teeming with data, now devoid of wit. In days of old, you were the talk of the town,
By E.K. Daniels3 years ago in Poets
Oh, Cannabis Tree, oh Cannabis Tree, Oh, how I want to smoke thee. But my asthma says nay, “You can’t smoke today!” Oh, the levels of enlightenment that you take me,
By Steffany Pope3 years ago in Poets
