Shrewdest poems on Hello Poetry

Maham S Mar 2013

Reminiscence : A tribute to my favorite partner in crime.

You ran
I ran
Faster than light,
Invisible to the keenest human eye
We ran towards the safest haven.
Almost giddy with excitement
Heart fluttering on the
Delicate wings of ecstatic butterflies
Forsaking everything behind
Just you and me

We zoomed by,
Humans and objects,
All just a mélange of colors
Hallways went by
In the blink of an eye
Not yours or mine
Just the shrewdest eye
Voices called out to us
Allies raring to join
Teachers frantic to stop
Corridors vast enough to dissolve into

Stop, came after a long, lingering voyage
Breathing in short abundant pants
We beheld the eye of each other
And in that moment
I realized we were more than partners in crime
We were, you and me
Two friends destined to be
In each other’s memory
Forever
And
Ever
And ever.

spysgrandson Oct 2013

12 days in the wilderness--on writers block

12 days in the wilderness

what solitude hath brought…
a paltry sum of windy words
silly abstractions with the scent of turds

wandering the cedar dotted mesas,
once a vast and dreamy sea
inspired nothing in the verbosity of me

now home from the night walks
the ghostly winds that had so much to say
yet if I heard them, the words are hiding
in some wavy web of cells, firing blanks
when I aim at the blissfully blank page

who am I
to defile this space,
with puerile pecking
when the white wisdom of the ages
eyeless, stares at me
admonishing me
that words can
beguile the shrewdest master
by convincing him
they do not exist

Philip Winchester Nov 2018

Tudor Royals. (An Acrostic)

Tudor Royals. (An Acrostic)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tough times the Tudor King endures
Undecided on his bold armorers
Due to hots for miss Anne Boleyn
Ordered aside the maid of Aragon
Removed poor Anne’s head for Darling Jane

Rare son to Jane but childbirth was a pain
On death we see the shrewdest Ann o Cleaves
You know they didn’t get on or consummate
A fifth in Katherine Howard a **** for sure.
Lost her head , took Kath Parr to bed
Six was five too many for a King named Henry
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 10th 2018.

The six wives of Henry VIII .. Katherine of Aragon.
Anne Boleyn ,Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleaves,
Katherine Howard and Katherine Parr.

#historical #acrostic #poetry

Sonufrad Jul 2011

Simplicity

There are things I need and others I don't
The gears that work and those that won't
I strive for a kind of a captive curiosity
That fellows find me with the shrewdest capacity

I find each deed and try to complete
but the wind is always at my side

Jamie Walker Apr 2018

Untitled

You say I'm too quiet, well that's my shrewdest ruse
To tell you the truth I only talk to people's shoes
And sometimes the shoes talk back
In a language that sounds like silence
Maybe I should learn it?

Whoever said “slow and patient wins the game”
Has never played the games you play
I seek but never find you
I chase but never catch you
Maybe I should play with someone else?

You say I'm not like other boys;
I dance between raindrops
and shelter from the sun.
I would walk across thin ice for you
But conversation is worse than death.

Oliver Philip Nov 2018

Tudor Royals .

Tudor Royals. (An Acrostic)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tough times the Tudor King endures
Undecided on his bold armorers
Due to hots for miss Anne Boleyn
Ordered aside the maid of Aragon
Removed poor Anne’s head for Darling Jane

Rare son to Jane but childbirth was a pain
On death we see the shrewdest Ann o Cleaves
You know they didn’t get on or consummate
A fifth in Katherine Howard a **** for sure.
Lost her head , took Kath Parr to bed
Six was five too many for a King named Henry
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 10th 2018.

A historic lesson into personal relationships

#an #acrostic

Joseph Zenieh Apr 2020

THE MOST PRECIOUS JEWEL

THE MOST PRECIOUS JEWEL
When one gets older, he becomes quite skilled,
but life inclines to be about to end.
This is the precious while of all one's life.
He should distil each drop of this dense sap.

I wonder how some men pass all their time
in games to shun the boredom life may bring.
Where is the flatness if time flies like bats;
the shrewdest men don't know where they will be.

A lot of guests have passed along this life,
but few can know how bats of life are trapped.
Those have got famous in the books we read.
The rest have turned to earth on which we tread.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

— The End —