"felting" poems - Hello Poetry

I will smelting the scentest sweet Smelt it over an 'I forgot' times Smells the morningest freshness Will smell petrified joy always. I will stareding at the simplest complexity My eyes saw the warmest merry Seeing night sky spill over sight Will stare at plainest intricacy. I felting a sugar glaze Felt it coat my moonest blue Feeling his sugary hands Had warmth so will feel it melt.. Will felting foreverness sticky.

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Jul 16, 2015

Jul 16, 2015 at 9:52 AM UTC

kevin-millers

I Felting A Sugar Glaze

I will smelting the scentest sweet Smelt it over an 'I forgot' times Smells the morningest freshness Will smell petrified joy always. I will stareding at the simplest complexity My eyes saw the warmest merry Seeing night sky spill over sight Will stare at plainest intricacy. I felting a sugar glaze Felt it coat my moonest blue Feeling his sugary hands Had warmth so will feel it melt.. Will felting foreverness sticky.

13

Blank Father was a quarryman, hands at home On a welded wheel, fingers stiff waiting on sun To clear the lip of the pit, an artist is his own right Content to read the grain through an emery palm Leave the rest to rain and wind. Mother on the other Hand was a chiseler with a syncopated mallet No stranger to fluter and veiner, fine dust felting Her coffee, laboring late, ankle deep in drifting flake Humming as she whittled to the quick. One morning, seeing my chance, right hand freed In the wee, wee hours, I hacked out feet and a face Only a mother could love, raking footprints clean as I left.

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Oct 27, 2016

Oct 27, 2016 at 7:35 AM UTC

dave-hardin

Blank

Blank Father was a quarryman, hands at home On a welded wheel, fingers stiff waiting on sun To clear the lip of the pit, an artist is his own right Content to read the grain through an emery palm Leave the rest to rain and wind. Mother on the other Hand was a chiseler with a syncopated mallet No stranger to fluter and veiner, fine dust felting Her coffee, laboring late, ankle deep in drifting flake Humming as she whittled to the quick. One morning, seeing my chance, right hand freed In the wee, wee hours, I hacked out feet and a face Only a mother could love, raking footprints clean as I left.

13

I have seen the marble arch and was not afraid. The comeliness of it's curved surface paused me. Your song whispered of birds felting by, of fallen kings and reasons. I have time on my hands to listen. Hallelujah. For my steadfastness in love has left me bereft. I swore to all the kings in the Bible. I offered my skinned knees, for solace that I was heard. Hallelujah There are cracks in my head, my ankles are shackled. No music but a laugh echoed side to side. I will go down to the river to find God. Your repertoire is complete. Why a monk Leonard? The music of the ages was written without your melody and I sank beneath the river like a stone. But you're not there. Your music sustains me. I walk out, wet and cold. Hallelujah. I am redeemed from the nightmare. I step on your music as a soft petal. I am for a moment, relished and shriven. Hallelujah Caroline Shank

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Dec 20, 2022

Dec 20, 2022 at 10:04 AM UTC

Carolineshank

Ode to Leonard

I have seen the marble arch and was not afraid. The comeliness of it's curved surface paused me. Your song whispered of birds felting by, of fallen kings and reasons. I have time on my hands to listen. Hallelujah. For my steadfastness in love has left me bereft. I swore to all the kings in the Bible. I offered my skinned knees, for solace that I was heard. Hallelujah There are cracks in my head, my ankles are shackled. No music but a laugh echoed side to side. I will go down to the river to find God. Your repertoire is complete. Why a monk Leonard? The music of the ages was written without your melody and I sank beneath the river like a stone. But you're not there. Your music sustains me. I walk out, wet and cold. Hallelujah. I am redeemed from the nightmare. I step on your music as a soft petal. I am for a moment, relished and shriven. Hallelujah Caroline Shank

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