pukasaw.blogspot.com
Portaging the Pukasaw or Low Water
http://pukasaw.blogspot.com/2008/09/stream-they-spied-maps-called-it-one.html
Friday, September 19, 2008. A stream they spied (maps called it one), they learned to call it more. Its source God hid, its mouth ran out along Superior’s shore. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Click The Button Below To Purchase This Poem And More. Three clergymen from Michigan, adventure sought on. A stream they spied (maps called it one), they lea. To ease their load as Black Robes did, a Brother c. Then the bush plane flew for the second crew, whil. Bits And Pieces Of Driftwood.
songsofabeachcomber.blogspot.com
Songs Of A Beachcomber: The Rape Of The River (1938)
http://songsofabeachcomber.blogspot.com/2008/06/rape-of-river.html
If you would like to purchase Songs Of A Beachcomber simply click the "Buy This Book At Lulu.com" button to the left or just click here. The Rape Of The River (1938). Lucid, on gravel bed. Gnawing her rooted shore. Snags formed a fishing ground. Where trout abound,. Haunting the river floor. Cities her sides infect. Her course deflect,. Harness, enslave her, raped. Polluted, sewage swill;. Beauty her banks escaped. Murky, on slimy stones. Staining all that she touched,. Living yet dead, she fled.
songsofabeachcomber.blogspot.com
Songs Of A Beachcomber: Dreams And Reality
http://songsofabeachcomber.blogspot.com/2008/06/dreams-and-reality.html
If you would like to purchase Songs Of A Beachcomber simply click the "Buy This Book At Lulu.com" button to the left or just click here. Dreamers dwell in distant realms. Unmindful of the tangled trails that test their conquerors. Actors grasp the lurching helms. Of present deeds, and careful cruise where rash. Some imagine martyr's crowns;. They picture death with torture; fairly feel the pain's intensity. Deeds portray these shackled clowns. Bowed before the sword of scorn,. Malewitz, The Beachcomber.
paulyspoems.blogspot.com
Pauly's Poems: Poor
http://paulyspoems.blogspot.com/2009/09/poor.html
View my complete profile. Bits and Pieces Of Driftwood. Songs Of A Beachcomber. A Whole New World. Thursday, September 17, 2009. I wish I could write you everyday. But I'm afraid you might expect it. What you may think about me worries me though. As well as what you might say about me, from day to day. All I want is your love. I just want your approval. I want things to be perfect. Wish things were different. I would see you all the time. Without you I'm worthless. I'm guilty and a disgrace.
songsofabeachcomber.blogspot.com
Songs Of A Beachcomber: June 2008
http://songsofabeachcomber.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html
If you would like to purchase Songs Of A Beachcomber simply click the "Buy This Book At Lulu.com" button to the left or just click here. The Rape Of The River (1938). Lucid, on gravel bed. Gnawing her rooted shore. Snags formed a fishing ground. Where trout abound,. Haunting the river floor. Cities her sides infect. Her course deflect,. Harness, enslave her, raped. Polluted, sewage swill;. Beauty her banks escaped. Murky, on slimy stones. Staining all that she touched,. Living yet dead, she fled. Each ra...
thepoetstree.blogspot.com
The Poet's Tree: April 2008
http://thepoetstree.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html
Never what you expect, but always what you deserve. Joyous innocence, painful realizations, love eternal, or a slight variation of sorts. Running to reach it, but just behind, too true it would seem. What is right, or what is generally accepted, does it matter in their eyes? Transition to reality, monetary goods the focal point. A fine auto or luxury stone to boot? Your number grows as your chips extend exponentially. The silver spoon perched high for all your kind to see. What have my countryman done?
thepoetstree.blogspot.com
The Poet's Tree: November 2008
http://thepoetstree.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html
In the memory the landscape etched. Younger times auctioned to the highest. Primitive minutes spent in purest aw. The strike of a line the pressure rises. Ripped away as it thought. Yet all revealed the cards always show. Decisions made intent on the prize. Battle as you must to reach yours. Labels: I Was Wrong. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Songs Of A Beachcomber. Bits and Pieces Of Driftwood. The Poet's Tree Archive. View my complete profile. You can have your work displayed here, just send us your poem.
beachcomberisland.blogspot.com
Beachcomber Island: Escape
http://beachcomberisland.blogspot.com/2008/05/escape.html
If you would like to purchase Beachcomber Island simply click the "Buy This Book At Lulu.com" button to the left or just click here. I picked a lock this morning,. Unlawful loosed a prisoner, my mind. No sound alarmed a warning. New freedom felt, a song my rhyming find. Forbidden thought unprisoned,. Leapt walls, braved boundaries, discovery my prize. New love new hope envisioned. Unworn out trails, delighted freedom cries. Untangled nets catch more. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Poems From The Past.
beachcomberisland.blogspot.com
Beachcomber Island: Reflection
http://beachcomberisland.blogspot.com/2008/05/reflection.html
If you would like to purchase Beachcomber Island simply click the "Buy This Book At Lulu.com" button to the left or just click here. The lake stood silent morning still. Each island watched its image preened its trees. Each mountain drank in pride its fill,. As clouds probed depths that inhibition frees. A man soul searched his image found. Each motive weighted his purpose proved and prayed. Reflection seek and deeply sound,. New mornings need beginnings unafraid. Knead to be needed. In House And Outhouse.
