Ello' everyone! So, in honor of some poems I have been scrambling in different places over the last couple months, I decided to dump a few of my favorites on here for all of you to read and enjoy. (most have been rotting on my computer since September!) I also would challenge you to post any poems of your own below OR contact me through my contact page with some you may be working on. I'd love to hear what things have drawn your gaze in nature, in life, and in your ponderings.
But please, feel free to also glance over my rough ones below . . . I hope one (or two) really touch you. ;)
Ordinary
Ordinary things are like beauty
in the eye of the beholder
For as inner beauty holds more value than out
Ordinary things are the true base and gem of life
Learn to savor them and not pass them by
In the end, we regret unspoken good mornings and good nights
Eyes of Relief
My heart releases a sigh of relief
To know souls who love the beauty of nature
of rain on a window pane
The ones who heed the lull of the past
Watching old films or ones that feel old
The ones who spout facts about what they love
Whose eyes light up at dawn or a crisp dusk
For if they pour over old items and books
In them, I find someone nearly like me
Someone who enjoys golden, written, worn, ethereal things
That Frontier
To hold another's pain
To reach to grasp them when they fall
To see the ache within, to cover another's fears
To laugh when they smile
To hold another tight, to learn their childhood years
To wear another's shoes
To listen with attentive ear
Through the ages . . . .
empathy . . . .
Is the heart's rawest unchallenged frontier
Ore' In That Place
Between the willow’s branches and spring's blooms
Among the sting of rain and winters heavy brawl
I stumble through monastic ruins
My ears hear the Latin sprawled
Across the field past yonder walled town
Stands the castle of the lord atop the mound
Chilled with wonder the adventure besets
A thrum of wooded unknowns beat my chest
Smelling baker, smithy, people and beast
My stomach yearns for respite among the innkeepers things
Soot bathed timber and raging crackling wood
Voices lower below stairs as dreams make good
Morn awakens and my feet skirt the floor
Soon trading rushes for the thick cobbled or dusted road
From horses to knights to widow and beggar
From guild to bailiff, my eyes rush and scour
Brown molds to green and rolling sheep pasture
Yeomen join me and we all trek upward
The turrets and tall walls beckon fear and glory
Among my dreams this has been my favorite story
Within the walls is a different sort of life
But upon looking down from any portcullis, one can see
Life and death are just the same
They grow, love, marry, hate and face the day
If all my fantasies could ever come true
This land and time is where I’m sure to be found
The life, zeal, pulse, nobility, peasant and pound
This world is oft cast as only downtrodden, dirty or proud
But to me it is almost a sheer veiled dream
I’d walk it in a moment and visit in a breath
But I am also content to imagine, to live where I am
But all of me twould go without thought, if given the chance
You Taught Time
My, when did time learn to suspend?
Only with you, does a moment not end.
Purposeful
Purpose seems too lofty of a quest,
too confusing of a journey.
Yet,
I chase her in the wind
in the rain
in my mind
cursing my fears, striving to make the most of time's bind
Hands
Beginning as a cry we take our first breaths
Those breaths lead to seeing the world in a new light,
Lifted by arms not our own
Following all this, we soon grasp hands to be led across streets
Those streets bear the mark of lessons we learned,
Held by hands to not let us wander off
Yet, off the beaten path we trek and decide as we grow
Some come back, other stay, still some make their own
God’s hands only know us now
Lead by decisions, we leave the loneliness
Love springs and we suddenly ache to not simply hold hands
But to hold another human close
Two paths converge and go on as one
And then the new moment when the first breaths and cries start
The endless circle, the human life
Those breaths now look down in awe on your child
Their hands, small fists, seeking you out
For now we are needed and must guide not just ourselves
Whatever we live for, choose and believe
Those things become passed when we grasp the next hand
From led to leading
Your path is sure, to make a circle to centuries in store
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