Touch (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
beside me in morning warm under comforter, cool shoulder in open brush of lips on skin hand to her face ...
beside me in morning warm under comforter, cool shoulder in open brush of lips on skin hand to her face ...
Campsite set Late afternoon Late June Grab a friend Get the canoe Head up the brook The tributary Portage through ...
Field trip On the bus Down the road To see science The bog Sucked my leg Into the sphagnum Florescent ...
Pastel colors Watercolors Brushed on the sky Nature's palette Fan brush and wash With foreground and background Drawing shadows Before ...
A fall sky in slumber warming fan brush strokes, horsehair bristles, pushed across the fall tableau Deep burgundies and dark ...
Just off the road Summer dusk in the northern woods the eyes of the deer caught for an instant in ...
A range of mountains Hues of plum, rose, and rust hover above the terrestrial hills cloaked in winter's gray, brown, ...
A bright clear blue day in January after a cold snowfall overnight off the road, only glimpsed momentarily as I ...
Out back, behind the yard in the brush and scrub at the edge a world unfolds for those willing to ...
I was sitting there in the traffic, waiting for the light the heat and humidity building in the van, one ...
All day long they come and go-- Pittypat and Tippytoe; Footprints up and down the hall, Playthings scattered on the ...
By way of a vanished bridge we cross this river as a cloud of lifted snow would ascend a mountain. ...
A FAMOUS painter, jealous of his wife; Whose charms he valued more than fame or life, When going on a ...
SOLICITED I've been to give a tale, In which (though true, decorum must prevail), The subject from a picture shall ...
It snowed in spring on earth so dry and warm The flakes could find no landing place to form. Hordes ...
"OH, let's go up the hill and scare ourselves, As reckless as the best of them to-night, By setting fire ...
The west was getting out of gold, The breath of air had died of cold, When shoeing home across the ...
The house had gone to bring again To the midnight sky a sunset glow. Now the chimney was all of ...
The brain - the brush here celebrate that long red stain seeping the universe . Was not the chink of ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
You were never told, Mother, how old Illyawas drunk That last holiday, for five days and nights He stumbled through ...
Because she could find no one else to paint a picture of the old family place where she and her ...
In robes of Tyrian blue the King was drest, A jewelled collar shone upon his breast, A giant ruby glittered ...
I Thou who hast made thy dwelling fair With flowers beneath, above with starry lights, And set thine altars everywhere,-- ...
I first tasted under Apollo's lips, love and love sweetness, I, Evadne; my hair is made of crisp violets or ...
The Outer -- from the Inner Derives its Magnitude -- 'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood ...
If you were coming in the Fall, I'd brush the Summer by With half a smile, and half a spurn, ...
For months on end the pumpkins lay at peace, their parent vines had all but browned and died although a ...
They say you can jinx a poem if you talk about it before it is done. If you let it ...
In most self-portraits it is the face that dominates: Cezanne is a pair of eyes swimming in brushstrokes, Van Gogh ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories