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"fretfully" poems
There were grass-hoppers once, in these fields of green. Leaf-hoppers too and a myriad other tiny wing'ed ones. Now bees fidget fretfully along the hedgerows. Lady-bugs, now only the twelve-spot greenhouse slaves. Monsanto's beetles badgering them as they fiddle. These ditches that once housed frogs and musk-rat, ferocious diving beetles, The sky absent the wheeling martins, the boisterous larks. Gone the pests, I rue the dearth, bring me back my mud, my earth. Never was I annoyed by them, always an ally that buggy thing, Who yet knows how the June bugs sing?
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Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC
Greener Still
The first one, all night-black and chalky, tumbles down the road as I have fretfully done since August and January and all the months in between I travel alone
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
decimals therein
Colors of ocean, slate, lichen, Swirl behind fairy tale dollhouses, Their shutters closed tightly, Occupants fretfully dreaming. Winds like cold- Hearted demons roar through the trees. Strong through the torrents, With nimble branches, Scalloped-trunk, An arc of leafed limbs Shudders with pain that Causes it to stand ***** A shadowy moonrise Sliver by crescent sliver Casts the street luminescent And out of the storming clouds Of Devil's Point Falls streaked lightning.
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Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
Northern Rainstorm
Go ahead,say the words that I've longed for, fretfully. It won't have an effect, on this cobble ****** wall that protects me. You can say all you want, but your actions will suffice. Quite frankly, do it fast, before my heart turns into ice. A steady pitter-patter, turns into a syncopated tune. The clock ticking down, only time heals my wounds. So, go ahead, I advise you to choose wisely. Because I am the gate keeper, to this cobble ****** wall. You can say what you may, I'm not ready to fall.
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Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
Cobble ****** Wall
A sweeping feeling Crosses your face A pace Of rapid motion A notion Of life Who knows The power of prose As I'm captivated by a candy rose Sweet scent filling the air Despair Cant help but run Its fun Taunting, and teasing My mind I find I cant deny And I ask why? Why would someone hurt you Why would someone make you cry Jealousy Mostly Butterflies flutter fretfully As I say goodnight And I go home at a slower pace Knowing nothing cant take the smile from my face :)
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May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
Candy Rose
Such a bitter grudge you longingly hold, This poison surges in your darkened heart. You carry a malice so fretfully cold, Your soul is what you regrettably wrought. You're brimming with an anger unneeded, You muster quite an excessive amount. This hatred you brew seems so deep-seated, And all of this mindless drivel you tout Spreads a bleak foulness throughout everyone, Creating all of these hostilities. You're a monger of folly who needs shunned; You're surely not spreading some pleasantry! You're merely a wretch, a putrid spirit-- Unwanted and useless, a stupid ***
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC
A Sonnet for the Burden of Hatred
"THE EARTH IS LIKE A CHILD THAT KNOWS POEMS BY HEART" The night had stuffed the dark into every crevice of the house and his life awoke to a big blue sky holding a crocus in the palm of its morning. The world was springing into being all around him as if existence had changed its mind and decided to stay. A solitary oak reached a gnarled hand and snatched a cloud ( that happened to be passing by ) out of the air just like that. The cloud struggled to break free. The oak gave a hearty laugh and let it go. The cloud scurried away fretfully looking over its shoulder. "So, what kept ya?" he asked spring. Spring...just smiled.
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
"THE EARTH IS LIKE A CHILD THAT KNOWS POEMS BY HEART."
Girl's got me crushing so hard I'm like a black hole Pressure bulding up On all sides The compressions so thorough That even the light dies And gets ****** inside And i cant even hide! Not that I'd want to My heartbeat Fretfully flutters Like its fighting to fly free From my chest Breathlessly waiting For just one glance Notice me.....
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Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC
Notice Me
Your inner peace was heavily disturbed, Everyone saw how you started to stir, But none among them truly understands Everything for which you already planned Was placed on a ****** indefinite hold, And now, that chapter must remain untold Until your time to shine will make itself known, But this restlessness has fretfully grown... Your impatience, often unrecognized, Seems to steadily simmer and brew. It's usually heard when you chastise Something trivial anyone might do. I sometimes feel this tension, unreal, And I don't wish to keep stoking that flame, But you must realize we share the same prize In this perilous and unwavering game! We've walked down these roads More times than we know, But still, we carry on. The rush and the thrill Will grant us our fill, Our muse's strength is not yet gone!
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Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 3:45 AM UTC
Inspiration's Revitalization
There’s a time at night when the moon is full And the breakers pound the beach, The world is dark and asleep, the gull Lies nesting at the breach, It’s then that the stirrings from the depths Reach out, like a dead man’s hand, And shortly, out of the rivulets There are footprints on the sand. They come ashore and they stand awhile And they point, this way and that, Considering well which way to go As the waves erase their tracks, Then a breeze picks up and it parts the grass In a line up from the shore, And the shape of feet on a farmer’s stile Are left, till they dry once more. While up on the rise, a cottage sits With a single faint night-light, Its simple beam like a beacon streams Through the tar-black pitch of night, While deep inside in a cosy room Sleeps a girl called Carolyn, Who tosses fretfully in the gloom As she dreams the words, ‘Come in!’ The footsteps up from the field below Stand still at the old front door, The lock is rusty, the hinges swing For an inch, or maybe more, The wind is moaning and soughing now And the door is soon ajar, As the footsteps enter that sacred place Under the evening star. And Carolyn lies and moans aloud As his death invades her sleep, Since ever the depths had formed his shroud All she had done was weep, The footprints stood, facing her bed For an age it seemed, they kept A silent vigil, there by her head When she woke, the sheets were wet. David Lewis Paget
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
Return of the Wanderer
It's a character flaw, or perhaps a strength - correction; it's a contradiction with little satisfaction because I am lacking the will to be more. Fretfully forgetting who I'm giving for. Losing myself in the equation because your tongue is poisoned with persuasion. And I am without worth, without cause, I can no longer feel the earth beneath my feet. You've taken that in your reach. Your grasp all too familiar: I am sacrificial, little will to live. It's an immeasurable amount; the amount of self I am willing to give.
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May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
Sacrificial
The night had stuffed the dark into every crevice of the house and his life awoke to a big blue sky holding a crocus in the palm of its morning. The world was springing into being all around him as if existence had changed its mind and decided to stay. A solitary oak reached a gnarled hand and snatched a cloud ( that happened to be passing by ) out of the air just like that. The cloud struggled to break free. The oak gave a hearty laugh and let it go. The cloud scurried away fretfully looking over its shoulder. "So, what kept ya?" he asked spring. Spring...just smiled.
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 9:43 AM UTC
"THE EARTH IS LIKE A CHILD THAT KNOWS POEMS BY HEART."
The night had stuffed the dark into every crevice of the house and his life awoke to a big blue sky holding a crocus in the palm of its morning. The world was springing into being all around him as if existence had changed its mind and decided to stay. A solitary oak reached a gnarled hand and snatched a cloud ( that happened to be passing by ) out of the air just like that. The cloud struggled to break free. The oak gave a hearty laugh and let it go. The cloud scurried away fretfully looking over its shoulder. "So, what kept ya?" he asked spring. Spring...just smiled.
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
THE EARTH IS LIKE A CHILD THAT KNOWS POEMS
AN UNFAIRY STORY whilst fretfully she sleeps Frog Prince kisses the Princess turning her into a beautiful frog yes, and well...they lived happy ever after as water in the bottom of a deep deep well what kind of fairy story were you after....ahhhh the grim human kind frog prince & frog princess hop happily about a bit eating delicious(ribbitribbit)flies oh how our love has spawned tadpoles will be tadpoles I suppose now it's time for us to croak it remembering our happy once upon a times
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Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 3:39 PM UTC
AN UNFAIRY STORY