A Poets Dream Poems by Frenchtown, NJ poet, Ray Brown about the art of poetry
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An American and an Italian Spring. Poems by Frenchtown, NJ poet, Ray Brown, about a spring trip to Italy. Join me for my next reading Saturday April 23 at 2 pm, Hamilton Twp. In Raritan, New Jersey? Since I was in Rome,.
Poems by Frenchtown, NJ poet, Ray Brown, with thoughts of the State of New Jersey. The warm rays of the spring sun. Find their way through the yet bare branches. A few stop to awaken a bud or two. Then rest upon her shoulder. And those of her eight-year-old son and husband. Still refreshed by the remnants of winter. Recently stocked with the fish of the rainbow,. The trout wiggle their way, not quite lazily. Worms, the thick night crawlers,.
Poems by Frenchtown, NJ poet Ray Brown. Came back with a number of poems and ideas. These poems are drafts being workshopped here with you. Please let me know any suggestions or impressions you have. Black fedora, rekel,.
Poems by a Frenchtown, New Jersey poet. Tell me a story that will live in my heart forever. I hope you enjoy and appreciate the poems posted here. Drinking Milk When It Snows. Who drinks all this milk, when it snows. Half pint upon half pint. The shelves at ShopRite soon bare. 8211; to get milk.
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The site had the following in the homepage, "Poems by Frenchtown, NJ poet, Ray Brown about the art of poetry." I noticed that the web site stated " POEMS ABOUT THE ART OF POETRY." They also stated " Welcome to my little on-line Poetry Chapbook. Each poem is about the Art of Poetry - the heart of the poet and the heart of the poem. Browse the TWITTER listings to the right to find the lastest poems on my main blog. You do not have to be a TWITTER member to use the links. Truth in a Few Lines. Truth in a Few Lines. Can you write so clearly,. In just a few lines?."ANALYZE MORE BUSINESSES
This site is marked private by its owner. If you already have both of these, great! Larr; Back to WordPress.
Now that these is said, I have to tell you that this is an adult blog. Also these images are reblogged and are not mine. And yes, some of the images reoccur in my blog, that means I really like the images.
Painted memories slip by unnoticed. Toys forgotten in the magic places. The lines of our faces grow deep. Another drink to carry the burden. The last cigarette before the train. One more kiss to hold him over. A fleeting moment before the rain. One more memory to cut you. Just a scar that never fades. Like a faceless friend behind you.