Poems about beads


№ 1200638

Gathering the Beads Of Sweat

He whispered, as he flickered along her neck
'you are here my love'...

As shivers flew down her spine
She blushed to the roots of her hair
As he grabbed her by the waist
And twilled her along the floor...

The universe seems so full
The emptiness has flown astray
'there is only us', he said, 'to love the night away'...

His way, his sexy grin
Made heat rise to her face
As her thoughts took her
To their bedroom once again...

He took her mouth, His lips sliding
Across her softness, as a small moan escaped
From her throat, his hand skimmed along her face
Brushed the hair from her eyes
As he gathered the beads of sweat...

Debbie Brooks 2014

beads,  gathering,  sweat.

Author: Deborah Brooks Langford
Date: 29/03/2020

№ 1120279


The god of small things

God is good:
Gale force winds
Sandy beaches

God is good:
Friends who know and still love you
The credulous wonder of children
Singing your heart out
Knowing you're alive
Thinning gracefully
Growing wiser
Not caring

God is good:
The joke you've never heard before
The queen of the night's aria
Jet engines at takeoff
The lightbulb moment
Rolling fields of corn
Rolling tears of joy
Fine malt whisky
Driving too fast
A good book

God is good:
Rainbows at the prow of a boat
Sunshine after storms
A thin crescent moon
Spray in your face
The smell of rain
Leaping salmon
Shooting stars
Dark skies

God is good:
A sleeping lover's moan
Knowing he loves you
Knowing she's there
Heartfelt laughter
A sincere touch
An honest hug
Dinner for two
Growing old

God is good:
A perfectly sculpted torso
The moment after waking
New scentsations
Sincere smiles
A compliment
True friends

I wor
Ship the god of
Small things. i give
Thanks to her

Threw your cateschism to


Author: Mark C
Date: 16/01/2020

№ 1087396

The Beads of Sweat

The smoke clouded their faces

It was the kind of smoke that dances

Out of cigarettes and eyes

And music that cries

They were together and singing

Their voices slow and cringing

Hiding beneath the skirts of smoke

Which, with truth, it spoke

The mystery of our race

The misery of our place

Concealing the obscene

Of desire rising between

The lover and her clock

The earth and its rock

But it seeps away loudly

Screaming reality proudly

Behind the smoke, a family of one

Quivers underneath the cruel sun

Of truth and virtue, setting

On their dead hearts, sweating

beads,  sweat.

Author: Farida Ezzat
Date: 17/12/2019

№ 1046250

Love Beads Baby

She said,
I want you to wear a strand of tiny black beads about your neck with a few turquoise mixed in to show all the love and passion you have within and I want to be the one to give you these because I see you in them all the time in my mind
You are relaxed kicked back in a chair and your shirt is slightly open and I can see them there touching your heart dancing over your chest dangling close to the milky parts I like best.

baby,  beads,  love.

Author: DiamondGirl
Date: 10/11/2019

№ 1004985


There's paint under my nails
And no matter how hot the water is
I can't wash you off
I watch the raindrops slide down your leather jacket
And smear your make up
Because it's jealous
That you're still radiant
Even now I'm not sure why I want you
All I know is that it's raining
And you're soft
And my mask is slipping


Author: Sophie Doomknuckles
Date: 04/10/2019

№ 977635

Colored Beads

I have a bracelet
Given to me by a friend
Bought in a foreign country

The beads are wooden
The beads are colorful
The string is woven
Throughout and around
The beads

Like our friendship
The outs
And ins

beads,  colored.

Author: Squid the Russell
Date: 09/09/2019

№ 967518

Amber Beads - Inspired by Giles Watson's photography

Sere and yellow,
Rough and round, [bright pebbles in a mound]
Pitted and mellow,
Winding our necks round,
We wore them.

Amber beads unearthed from clay,
Fashioned by my artist love,
Glowing yellow, filled with day,
Captures sunbeams from above.
I still love them.

Some say gods have made these,
To ensnare the light of Sun,
But we women saved these,
In memory & hope of sons,
We keep them.

Fat & smooth as butter,
We turned them in our hands.
The bone beads scraped with madder,
The amber just with sand.

Those of shadowy carnelian
Embedded like a shield,
We treasure as we fear them,
Like wounds on battlefields.

The others soaked with brownish earth,
Sere and yellow,
Rough and round, [bright pebbles in a mound]
Pitted and mellow,
Winding our necks round,
We wore them.

So, when we are dead, take not from us,
These rounded, golden suns,
But bury them with us, with sword and severed buss,
To revere the slaughtered ones,
Who never returned to us.

Susan Tolbert-White – Revised November 15, 2016

amber,  beads,  inspired,  photography,  watson.

Author: Susan Tolbert-White
Date: 31/08/2019

№ 963514

Yellow Beads and Cigarette Smoke

I saw her from a distance
Her evident difference
Alarmed me for a moment
My eyes hidden behind glasses
Made split second assessments
My confusion in this place of fitting in
Was considerable, unknown to me

I saw in her hand the cigarette burning
Her fat perfectly rounded belly held
And wrapped in red flowering
Frilly and flowing dress
It was hiked up at the front
Showing pudgy white blotchy skin
The time for babies was long behind her
We moved closer toward each other

Her difference and indifference grew
I noticed her saunter with unstable gait
Her long dried out died blond hair
Her own attempt at glamour stood out
The mismatched colours, the loose layers
And the string of large yellow beads
Wrapped around her goitre throat
Her eyes gazing downwards
We were going to pass soon
I knew she was different

It was surprising and unexpected in this place so the same
I was unprepared in those seconds left to pass
Thoughts and feeling arose and changed
Those thoughts and feelings are mine to question

"Good morning"

And on the wind the smell of old cheap perfume
And cigarette smoke, delicious
Reminding me of who I was before
Of a far away time brought to mind
By that perfect mix of smoky chemicals
A place with happy memories
A place I longed to return to
My youth

I was left with a realisation
Our desire can lead us down a one way path
This one dimension forbidding alternatives
Designating an end point
A reminder not to forget who you were, is who you are now
Made from pasts both good and bad
To celebrate our differences

beads,  cigarette,  smoke,  yellow.

Author: Fiona Runs
Date: 27/08/2019