Rambler Poems - Poems about Rambler

His soul alive when he rambled Hours and hours upon end Being alone with mother nature His one and only true friend Confined, suffocated between four walls He needed to roam free Through the mountainous hills and countryside Of wildlife, rivers and trees He was a loner by choice A rambling spirit since a child Innate to his whole being His heart and home the wild The...

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I think of how you must have been in bygone days with friends from your boyhood. From things you’ve said, I picture you back then blazing trails and camping in the Cincinnati Wood. And then perhaps you stood a man at seventeen with one carnation pinned onto your suit. Vernal still, and on the threshold of your dreams, you’d blaze a path...

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As a weary rambler, I'm nearby and resting. With arousing, he grasps his ecstatic settling. His withered bones are currently lively. It's been done multiple times formerly. Bequests themselves with musings to meditate. His danger is gone, and his agony is replete. The burning sun won't be a fount of hotness. He won't be lashed by...

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All of the roads this bold rambler took were narrow and dark; a half-moon hung very low displaying its melancholic mood never turning mellow... it had a perplexed glance as if it wondered how he mistook its somberness as an anticipation to foretell sorrow, which showed often when it appeared as a merrow... wallowing in gleaming waves with brooding tones that injected...

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Chorus: The countryside rambler refused to be confined in an institution of experimentation and be abused; escaping civilization was her will to find freedom, to see the new spring bloom and chase butterflies: all she wanted was to ramble in her peaceful kingdom, where she was free to create her own happiness! Verse I Many don't know why Linda...

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He was roaming, rambler with no luggage, Never quiescent, but work-less always. He was loving, sparkling at all times; But not devoted to what needed everyday; In need of sheds he got amorous to shadows! To finish he found light in some folded dimness Who constantly feel ravenous in Bangladesh. They were not ready wholeheartedly for a wise walker, They...

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“Write me a Poem,” she said. "Paint a Picture for me with words." "I want to see, hear and smell what you write" "You can choose the subject". "But don’t make it sad." “Write me a Poem,” she said. "Don’t make it too long." "Nor like a song." “I want to be awake at its end.” “I have a Cat.” “Can you write about that?” “On...

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My ’65 Rambler in 1979 i learned to drive in a 1965 turquoise rambler three on the tree cracked, dusty leather smelling like an old fisherman’s boot the sun spotlighted that car bouncing off of the irreverent turquoiseness wherever I went like a giant florescent highlighter hanging above my head most of the prayers in my life were made fervently in that car… Please, God don’t let anyone see me...

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i made my alliance's in the roar of the gunblast. the battle had spilled out my head and into vile colour. morning's no longer softly handle my shoulder. they run ragedly round my hand's and feet like rat's. my trademark walk had sauntered of with the devil. along with my soul and serenity fled laughing. i just lay waiting for death's...

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