Patron Poems - Poems about Patron

I think the patron saints have all been left for dead. The lies have all been said, and payments been arranged. The depositions all went down behind the scenes. The clergy spilled the beans, but somehow the guilty never found Have you heard of Jesus? He was very wise, now he lives up in the sky. sing along, sing in spite of all the...

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She had talked her uncle into being her money patron at last. He encouraged her to purchase skeins of yarn; it was a blast! She kept telling him that she was making something for him. She would have one idea, then go off on another whim. Have you finished anything? He asked her after sixteen years. That she was only...

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Sorry dear patron The credits have now rolled and stopped and the screen curtains have come down This afternoon's matine performance is over and done Unfortunately that for you means it's time to leave The cleaning staff now have a job to do clean up the auditorium to make it ready for this evenings show Thanks for coming so glad you enjoyed yourself If you l...

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He was flaming when he alighted in my mind I was horrified, not realizing I had a talent You have two he informed me And I am the patron judge of both I decided to look him up later Pay attention! He said. You are to write; I rolled my eyes. And paint! He said this with a mean glare. I was...

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Dusk mourns the death of Sol with scarlet tears, while a crimson sun slowly disappears. And Luna rises in a starlit sky as Venus and Mars bid daylight goodbye. Gaia's long been a patron of the arts; honing Her talent for touching our hearts. Sunrise morphs into a phenomenon, as pastel pigments paint the birth of Dawn. Cotton candy pink and robin egg...

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she moves slower but not her smile her heart speaks in rhythmic sage her umbrella is her hands of praise accepting a bouquet of flowery rain 5/11/2019...

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No one ever had a more devoted super patron. He marveled at every painting and poem I thought up. He cheered at each of my gaudy crazy color choices, He toasted all my thoughts with a golden glass tribute cup. He wanted to buy all, the first time I had a white arts and crafts carnival tent. I was against...

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To be a patron of your art, In waking, sleeping play a part, In one sweet dream, God dreams for you; Though not my will, but His, be true. And if by chance I see your face, Or find a dream inside your space, Where art and poems overlap? Perchance my poem finds your lap! Then let me die for bliss like this Is...

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Copper in color and also by name Was this fuzzy warm patron of canine fame Wandering the grounds that were right next door He loved to walk the boards of a little country store The occasional stranger with a smile and a treat And the everyday favorites he waited to greet A wag and a smile for all who could...

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Dragon was having a bad time; nothing was going right, one day. First, he tried to cut the ribbon for the new library… in his name. A breeze made him sneeze, sending sparks going, you know where. It all went up, immediately, with lots of colored, flames in the air! The fire department, knowing Dragon, was already there, for...

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(Dedication: This poem is for My Dear Patron who bought me a 1-year premium membership. I say: "Thank You" to my Anonymous patron and friend for this very kind gesture.) Thank you so much For your kind touch; Thank you dear friend For this fine spend. I just wrote verse A new outburst; Saw Premium star With mind ajar! So now I sit With word...

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Paint me Saintly, my actions lately Have shown such cause a'plenty My Quarters stately, my Morals greatly Unfazed by thoughts of many Still in search of the Peace I've wanted- Looking, tracking; intent to find! But by my former self I am haunted, Lurking not more than two feet behind......

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I don't often greet disciples of Midnight anymore. I'm so empty, so hungry for places more vast than what my mind contains, so weary of being the keeper of my own fate. I still wonder what truths are concealed behind burnished seals of constellations but I'm too tired to witness the sequined, star-coded riddles that hint at prophesies sewn into the...

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Shamrocks Covered in green Irish dances what scene Little men with black hats Rolling around laughing on their backs “Erin go brah” to you I say No one can do it like the Irish this day A mug of green beer For good times and cheer And Fiddle here A fiddle there Irish step dancing everywhere A day...

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Cold Morpheus snowflakes descended all night You blinked them away with amphetamine tears, A veil so defiantly, sugary white When the whole sleeping world disappears; For who will remember your un-ravaged face When you stood like a child at the edge of the park? You may leave no particular trace As you bow out and become as the dark. How many walk everyday...

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