"limbers" poems - Hello Poetry

Oh, how quickly does the moon reach the sky? Made thy dwelling in the wide blue yonder; Cold summer night limbers up without try; The ether opens wide, to thee it grows fonder Revolving in an eccentric orbit, Desolate beauty of magnetic depth; More captivating than thousand comets, Making the earth livable is thy strength Yet thine existence is causing the tides, Waters and rocks rise and fall in each pull; Creating rhythm and chaos inside Oh how swift is the glide from full to fool? Since earth holds thy not, slowly drift away Howbeit, memories to the core shall stay.

0

Nov 1, 2022

Nov 1, 2022 at 8:39 AM UTC

redrobregado

Moon Sonnet

Oh, how quickly does the moon reach the sky? Made thy dwelling in the wide blue yonder; Cold summer night limbers up without try; The ether opens wide, to thee it grows fonder Revolving in an eccentric orbit, Desolate beauty of magnetic depth; More captivating than thousand comets, Making the earth livable is thy strength Yet thine existence is causing the tides, Waters and rocks rise and fall in each pull; Creating rhythm and chaos inside Oh how swift is the glide from full to fool? Since earth holds thy not, slowly drift away Howbeit, memories to the core shall stay.

14

I want to learn the alphabet of your emerald eyes, Pronounce the words on the tip of your tongue And complete the sentence between your thighs. Master movement grammar while we are still young The nouns all down your spine are pleading to be sung. - I want to trace the verbs of your palm. Scribble the adverbs of your fingers Across the conjunction of your wrists, into my psalm. To decline your sides where my breath still lingers Your tense, presently, limbers. - I want to speak your Body Language, Be fluent in your tongue. I’m eager to read your novels And write your poems until we are undone.

0

Jun 6, 2013

Jun 6, 2013 at 6:52 PM UTC

john-f-pinto

Body Language

I want to learn the alphabet of your emerald eyes, Pronounce the words on the tip of your tongue And complete the sentence between your thighs. Master movement grammar while we are still young The nouns all down your spine are pleading to be sung. - I want to trace the verbs of your palm. Scribble the adverbs of your fingers Across the conjunction of your wrists, into my psalm. To decline your sides where my breath still lingers Your tense, presently, limbers. - I want to speak your Body Language, Be fluent in your tongue. I’m eager to read your novels And write your poems until we are undone.

16

Last time was this time that time, but next time like the first time we met the first time gets better. We set sprats to catch mackerel and fish for compliments while the whales sit on couches and watch television, repeats and retreats and it beats me how the sea cow gives no milk. But this time brings time into focus again and I rise with the dawn to bring the then into now and the day limbers up as I do my bit and sit down for a tea, a cigarette lit, a cough with a wheeze, two Weetabix please and this time gets better every time that I'm sat here. She comes about ten and by then things are done, the plates have been washed, the laundry is hung and we wait for a bus, the ten twenty-three, to Putney, and on the heath, there we will be like the last time but this time, I remember the first time I met her when I thought to myself that this could get better and it did, so you see, while sprats catch a mackerel or is it the other way round it all follows on and back on dry ground you're bound to make a connection in the mystery of the lines that cross in and out of those times last the last times.

0

Apr 26, 2015

Apr 26, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Twice as nice

Last time was this time that time, but next time like the first time we met the first time gets better. We set sprats to catch mackerel and fish for compliments while the whales sit on couches and watch television, repeats and retreats and it beats me how the sea cow gives no milk. But this time brings time into focus again and I rise with the dawn to bring the then into now and the day limbers up as I do my bit and sit down for a tea, a cigarette lit, a cough with a wheeze, two Weetabix please and this time gets better every time that I'm sat here. She comes about ten and by then things are done, the plates have been washed, the laundry is hung and we wait for a bus, the ten twenty-three, to Putney, and on the heath, there we will be like the last time but this time, I remember the first time I met her when I thought to myself that this could get better and it did, so you see, while sprats catch a mackerel or is it the other way round it all follows on and back on dry ground you're bound to make a connection in the mystery of the lines that cross in and out of those times last the last times.

10