cheryl davis miller

Rookie - 12 Points (2/26/57 / America)

cheryl davis miller Poems

1. The Secret 6/12/2013
2. Madness 6/12/2013
3. The Nest 6/12/2013
4. The Bird 6/12/2013
5. I Love The Tender Blooms 6/12/2013
6. I Quit 6/12/2013
7. Catastrophe 6/12/2013
8. Fear 6/12/2013
9. Worth It All 6/12/2013
10. A Hearing Ear 6/12/2013
11. Crow's Feet And Aging 6/12/2013
12. Sleepy-Heads 10/27/2013
13. How Much 10/27/2013
14. For Such As I 10/27/2013
15. Michele Gen'Ee 1973 10/27/2013
16. Six Little Mexican Angels 10/27/2013
17. Day To Day Notion 10/27/2013
18. Blame 10/27/2013
19. A Plea And A Prayer 10/27/2013
20. A Warm September Day 10/28/2013
21. A Mother's Heart 10/28/2013
22. Twin Die 10/27/2013
23. The Wren 10/27/2013
24. A Gentler Time 10/28/2013
25. A Life-Changing Dream 10/28/2013
26. Another Poetry Night 10/28/2013
27. A Simple Thanks 10/28/2013
28. Advise To Miss Dolly P And Joleen 10/28/2013
29. Appalachian Christmas 10/28/2013
30. All That I Need 10/28/2013
31. A Picture Puzzle 10/28/2013
32. Her Darling Boy 10/29/2013
33. Blue's Dues 10/30/2013
34. All Things 10/30/2013
35. Casualty Of War 10/30/2013
36. Eden Marie 10/30/2013
37. Depending On The Kindness 10/30/2013
38. Bridge To Burn 11/1/2013
39. Autumn Revelry 11/1/2013
40. An Open Hand Is Needed 11/1/2013
Best Poem of cheryl davis miller

The Walking Dead

'You feel too deeply, ' my mother spoke.
When suddenly from sleep I woke.
How can one limit ones depth of heart?
Please tell me Mom I want to start.

To lesson the ache and stop the tears,
that's followed me these many years.
Then celebrate what is left of life,
free of the cares of pain and strife.

To look through my eyes and yet not see
the turmoil and perplexity,
of the lost and lonely souls out there.
Please tell me Mom how not to care.

How can I not hear the sad refrain
of souls vexed so by sins dark stain?
The ghastly ...

Read the full of The Walking Dead

I Love The Tender Blooms

I love the tender blossoms.
So I wait, expectantly.
For each precious bloom to open
and lift their face toward Me.

I adore every petal.
No two blooms are quite the same
My hand tends and trains the tendrils,
and I call each one by name.

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