Candy poems bring the best collection of short and long candy poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great candy rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these candy poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on candy are here for you.
Soaked trees from the rain and fallen leaves, that cover paths lined with glowing pumpkins Houses with dimly lit porch lights and Halloween decorations welcome youngsters of all ages Children running amok dressed as their favorite character and yelling ‘Trick
When benevolent rain God showered his furious benevolence … …. life in a light flickered and died a sudden death!!! When scorched Earthlings pinned, prayed and got an ass and a frog married to sate the rain God.. He poured
Atlantic City, not a place but the fragment Of a memory that lights up bright and garish In the starless night when day is done When ragged dreams arise from murky beds Beneath the waves washing up like seaweed On
Sweet and attractive, you are like candy to a five year old. Little does a kid know you can give aches hard and cold. Like a sunny day you seem to make everything bright and beautiful. And then it burns
We sure did love the lollipops, the cracker jacks, the Holloway candy sticks, the chocolate coated ice cream bars, and those tootsie rolls. We simply could not get enough of the pop sickles, the cool aids, and the soda pops.
Her beauty was captivating sweet of heart, flustered within shades of hazel searching still luster. She seemed adrift the tides vacant stare of sadness walking lovelorn shadows on mystic nights. She was perfect the other half of me, pertinent as
Mmm.. The rich noir sugary waterfall gently flows Caressing the soft luscious bays of cherry red lips Imagine a calm, crystal-clear river, waves that smoothly glow The glistening moonbeam dancing on the oar’s tips Listen, as they gingerly part the
This morning at the town square, little orphaned children gathered to listen to stories and lies left behind by last night’s lovers. On one of the benches by the fountain, one of the children, a little girl with a clogged
I want to walk the land meets its animals and learn their songs. Snakes there must be and gators hook-billed birds stalking the verge of lakes and rainfall ponds, candy-colored eyes rolling within wrinkled leather sockets. It would be easy
Once you witnessed smiles on lovers, heard laughter, the running of feet up and down your sturdy boards. Fisherman cast an anxious rod over your side in anticipation of the beautiful bounty that swam in your shadow. Music from ferris
I love… Paris in the summer, Bombay in the rains Cotton candy clouds, trees drooping over river bends Rickety trains, Topsy-turvey roller coasters Mountain mists, seeing the ocean meet the sky Rainbows (even without the pot of gold), loud thunder
Just like mantises, hurrying to finish his last embrace, so to be taken by the husks of his beloved; Like a butterfly, flying to the sun, but hunted by a pale lamb hanging on the dust of the road; Like
I once sat and observed the movements of an Ant, as he moved across my bathroom floor. He was headed in one direction, and for no apparent reason, he decided to change course. When he changed directions, I decided to
She beamed melancholy Her darkness a beacon, My eyes captivated By the tilt of her smile. Skin of scars begging To ease, save, steal, To rebuild upon her stars, If she’d have me. In letters, then laughter She came willingly,
My Childhood Was Depressing, I am talking about dolphins with no water depressing, fishes with no fins depressing, candy with no flavor depressing, I mean so depressing that I grew up wondering if happiness ever existed in this place we
An escalator is an insatiable ogre gesturing a continual ragged-nailed come hither promising what is kept at its end is to be desired beyond candy, beyond any comfort of family. it breathes a single anticipatory breath an idiot predator focused
This is a story of growing up in beige HDB flats High-rise homes that dot the lavender sunset Of void-deck soccer, of sizzling kachang putehs And of the kids in khaki shorts and white, loose singlets As their jubilant laughter
Oooh baby ride that horsey harder and harder, faster and faster…keep it Cumming, no don’t stop now just keep it Cumming…well ain’t this what you came here for now Hugh now baby don’t lie I know you got that fire
Gunshots in my breakfast sirens swirling the rim of my coffee cup with blue hypnotism dressed for work and away morning air statue still dust of weeks on the candy colored cars moon is full above the rug store a
Hello Pumpkin. My sweetest devoted country bumpkin. You don’t half bring the sunshine when I feel like sleeping in a fridge. Hello dearest Pumpkin in time you play the pleasant hoots from a pleasant piped piper making rats do comedy
why walk when you can ride, she said the bus on fire the upper deck peeled back and dragging the asphalt laughing with the driver, trying to steal his hat then searching in her seal-skin purse for half a roll
There is no nothingness. imagine a team of scientists building an absolute vacuum inside a tiny metal box, the others alternating, a matryoshka doll vacuum, box, vacuum a terrible candy to offer a giant sure to raise the wrath of
For Lord’s exultant installation thou Singest for the performance at Ludlow, Of greatest Virtue that high Heav’n bestows On mansions virgin demoiselles doth house, That no temptation could utterly soil, No evil spirit ever durst to foil, Nor Circe’s son
Expedition of life starts at dawn. Trainers come genetically, custom and society fill the gap, we start a journey, the route is misty. I started for the Kanchenjunga Half of the track was well lit road rest was chosen weather-wise.
A story can tell, what no one else can show A story shares feelings, that stay hidden away. A story can mean, something no one can understand. A story can give, something only you can receive. A story can show,
That was the dreadful night when my world went upside down, Tough decisions were made but still I count, The smiles the sorry the vows that were so profound, It just hit me hard now when ever they come around.
Let the mourner be Let the grief burst forth overflow the barricades snap the cords asunder rise from the depths of the Being Let the mourner be Let him throw open the floodgates of sorrow weeping is but natural for
My love, speak not to me of yesterday, Of withered rose and long gone ecstasies, Neither of dreams nor joys that naught did stay, But of today, where starts new fantasies; If love must hold against Time’s adverse flow, Whilst