Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Sonnet Journey Poems | Sonnet Poems About Journey

These Sonnet Journey poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Journey. These are the best examples of Sonnet Journey poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Sonnet | |

Freedom

This place inside where all my feelings keep.
That lies somewhere between my heart and soul.
Should I, the guardian of my fortress seek,
Protection from those, who would see them stole.
So many times have you this bastion breeched,
With scant regard for all the dangers posed.
That my hopes and dreams should not be reached,
By eyes that only wish my heart exposed.
These inmates with their liberty restrained.
That strive against their shackles and their chains.
Am I their jailor too cautious to be blamed,
To free them no matter what their claims.
And if freeing them should reveal my heart,
I might be also freed.. my life to start


Details | Sonnet | |

Et Portae Inferi Non Valebit, Gates of Hell shall not Prevail

Et Portæ Inferi Non Valebit
(And the gates of hell will not prevail)


Gates of Hell shall never ever prevail
promulgation of Truth forever stands
Soul and Spirit each rings a sounding bell
Fate's ruthless results judges all the lands

Vanities of all men foolishly praised
Spirit's dark desires bearing bitter fruit
Rejection of He that was truly raised
lies and corruption are the stolen loot

Righteous hearts look to Heavenly skies
sincere prayers, deliver such bless reward
Mankind races onward using blinded eyes
to an ending very bitter and hard

In the dark shadow of this evil world
Our Creator's redemption has been hurled!

Robert J. Lindley, 10-11-2014


Sonnet:
Syllables Per Line:  10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10  
Total # Syllables:  140  
Total # Lines:  17  (Including empty lines)  
Total # Words:  93


Details | Limerick | |

Jan's Sonnet Sedan - Tribute Limerick

When an Ode Operator named Jan
hits the road in her Sonnet sedan,
she keeps Lines in their lanes
riding Rhyme's rough terrains
and drives home every Poem that she can



************************
This limerick was written 
for my Soup buddy Jan Allison. 
Thank you for your playful 
input and positive support - 
you are appreciated! xoxo


Details | Sonnet | |

Bucket List

To see the face of earth through angels’ eyes
To lie afloat on cotton clouds ‘neath the skies
And hear noth but the whistling of winds
Which encircle me like soft feathered wings

Too long these feet of lead have held to ground
On stone and porous clay abound
While my spirit yearns to ascend the heights
My bucket list consists of one sky jump flight

To soar the blue skies o’er land and sea
And fly solo as a bird, keen and care free
Where noise and din then become dearth
While my eyes feast on the radiant colors of earth

And as fields of golden wheat sway to and fro
I softly land on mounds of hay below
~*~
03/02/13

Annalise Brigham


Details | Sonnet | |

JOURNEY COMPANIONS: THE FRIEND SONNETS PART II

HEROES

Near somber guards, units of children heap 
dead leaves, naive to any else fallen.
Friend, you chuckle, but your posture speaks
of duty on this day of contradictions.

Firefighters bow heads in silent paean, 
while polished trucks stand at attention.
Families have again answered the call
to attend this festival, so uncommon.

Here, laughter rings around the memorial
for exuberance must never be doused,
Gloriously wrought, a sculpture of angels
commiserates with each mourning house.

You say, I see valor in lives that inspire.
 I see heroes and their lines of fire.


*For Craig

NEW DALI

Surreal, the way a contortionist knots
himself as the escape artist breaks free.  
Uptown, buskers beckon with what-naughts,
drawing thousands. Candyland, sighs New-Dali

at its epicenter, his true element,
and he takes it in: the sword swallower,
blindfolds, jugglers, clowns miming laments,
fire-fed gals, stilted-men and tots taller 

on shoulders. This carnival can endear,
turn heads, but only one with a seer-heart
studies the music box dancer, then swears
that she spins perfect webs with street-smarts.

Mirroring that swivel, awed by his entourage,
He becomes centrum to his own collage.


*For Chan, fully alive in Heaven.


SNIPPETS

Your brows are up. The Princess Cinema
is not your choice. C'mon, I don't fit here,
you snort. You, with all your charisma 
and kindness, stand in a short line, fearing

boredom or worse ... pretense. Promise me,
that we aren't about to wallow through
subtitles, you sigh.  Give me clarity,
a story, something that I can relate to.

But the charm catches you by surprise,
a star-struck atmosphere, the seats are new
and the popcorn is still warm. Friendly eyes
laugh, then amusement streams from you

for these Global TV spots simply delight
like each snippet that you joyfully write.


*For Andrea




TARTANS

There be Scots as farrrrrr as the eye can see.
Brawn calves and bright kilts delight lasses 
while pipers swagger out of the pub, tipsy.
Your smile broadens as a caber is tossed

end over end. Then, across the glen, highland                      
dancers in ghillies beckon with hearty flings.
Auch, it’s hot yet heather dare no’ wilt. Clans
gather, roguishly rib each other, as wool spins

in wheels. Aye, the romance can fair overwhelm
e’en the sensible. Worse for we, the fanciful. 
Come, here’s the tea tent. Let soft fiddles calm
as we nibble oatcakes. Tartans and tunes pull

heartstrings. We sit raptly, lost in Brigadoon,
put pen to napkin to let wee thistles bloom. 


* For Francine

TESTIMONIALS

Rustling maples break vows of silence,
naturally. As pleased, spears of hyacinth  
worship breezes with such soft reverence
that we give pause in this living labyrinth. 

Nothing here is still; wood thrush reverb
good news and cicadas buzz testimonials.
Nearby, a creek mumbles, Word-Word
while squirrels glorify their bounty. All

is abuzz with joy, save for the shade
under a weathered cross; it’s emptiness
resurrects veneration. A butterfly wades
the sudden hush, lands on your hand, nests.

My friend, you lift it to wood, sympathizing 
on bent knee, speechlessly evangelizing. 

*For Brian

ON THE FRINGE

Your eyes drink the hues of the Shisha Lounge:
art on walls, art brewing over charcoal.
This coffee ceremony is on the fringe,
far from the pallid and staid. I’ve marveled

at these dear blends, how culture can transcend 
barriers and ignorance. We order too much.
Tibsy, zignie, timtimo.. injera bends 
to each spiced delicacy as our plates touch. 

Gone is this haven where pleasure was shared.
Still, I’ll bring you there. Scribe, man of integrity,
sit with me. Exhale poetry. Imbibe tribal air. 
Mine, this moment and mine, this memory

but that mystifying brew, that receptive floor,
the smoke refined by deep respect… each are yours.  

*For my cuz, Scribe


SUMMERLAND

A warbling vireo hops from oak to elm.
Your gaze wanders, too. This amphitheater
hosts the lyrical, almost overwhelms,
for beyond the mill ruins, the Grand River

is deep in thought, reflecting. It’s as though myth
lives; Summerland has come to the hillside 
where weathered fieldstones beguile the impish
to dance. They do or else tin flutes will chide.

Though cozy the spot,  the world's at our feet.
Tanned toes can not help but tap. Strong is the lure
of pipes and those songs that dulcimers keep.
When night softly falls, one group brings rapture. 

They sing until stars tire and all are hoarse
like poets rousing words to supplicate verse.

*For Carrie


WORD ON THE STREET, 2009


Pure pageantry, how publishers' banners
wave over tents. Flocks of readers graze
on glossy trades, leaflets, hardcovers,
chapbooks. My friend, a true gent, stays
his ground. Maybe, it is the press of page;
Its forthright weave petitions for slants,
favors unique fonts, yet gilds no edge,
sees no need for illustration, just verdant
language. I did not intend to read
over his shoulder. He grins good-naturedly,
tweed makes an allowance. Each line, poetry,
he praises and I still my chatter. We feed
on gems, unrushed, but their brilliance spurs
a verbose woman and a man of his word.


*For David


Details | Sonnet | |

A Wonderful Day Afishin'

A Wonderful Day Afishin'


 A wonderful day fishing, frying fish in the pan
 logs sweetly burning, smokey smells of delight
 Lake nearly perfect , a pond in God's opened hand
 feast soon to start a beautiful camping night!

 That monster fish that easily broke your rod tip
 set a memory to be recalled decades from now
 As recollections in old age our minds eagerly dip
 mental pictures the where , when , why and how!

 This night shall hold us in a very deep embrace
 join me in a toast to a future so fine and sweet
 Singing of happiness , joy and your smiling face
 memories, good times, wine and fish to eat!

 A wonderful day fishing, so very hard to beat
 Nature's offering, magnificent trout to eat!

 June -09- 1978
 Robert J. Lindley

 I wrote this decades ago. My fishing partner was a fine
 lady that I almost married! Sadly she passed away back in 
 May of 2005... She had married and had a grown daughter 
 in college. I hadn't had contact with her in well over 
 22 years. Still it was a sad day for me upon 
 learning of her death...


Details | Sonnet | |

CHOICE

          CHOICE
I'll be what I must be, in spite of me
as life won't always give the things I choose
and so I have to make what has to be
into the things my life and I can use.

All roads don't lead to Rome, as it's been said,
but some to Paris, and a little fun,
so I will change the path where I would dread
to go to where I choose, when I am done.

I'll not be forced into a better scheme
if I can't see the end result my way
if it's not part of what my heart can dream
it never will come to the light of day.

   All things can change, if I have any voice
    in what they are, and I will make the choice.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Sonnet | |

THE WAY HOME

Preferred by those that know of nothing fair.
Destroyed by sand that blows through consciousness.
Existing in a vacuum of despair.
I left that world behind I must confess.

The wheels of hope extinguished memories.
With every mile clouds would drift away.
Until the devil's valley and disease.
Were lost in natures brilliant grand foyer.

Rejoice, the mountains, rivers of my home.
Forsaken once so young and long ago.
The years have swallowed up the urge to roam.
And age has brought the need to take it slow.
     Thoughts now have left me of that evil land.
     Here God and nature hold me in their hand.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Journey

THE Journey

It’s not about the
Victory
It’s about the journey

It’s about who we become
Through the
Journey

It’s about who we are
After the 
Journey

The path is too long
The road too narrow

Why me, why my life and loves
Why my marriage, my family
I really don’t understand

It’s not about the 
Victory
It’s about the journey

Who we become through 
Life’s trials

While waiting for them
To pass
While waiting to be delivered
Who are we then?
It’s not about the 
Victory
It’s about the journey
It’s about us


Details | Sonnet | |

Still Standing

Where were you when my world fell apart?
The Sun darkened and the Moon just fled.
All had been done and all had been said.
And ripped to shreds was my beating heart.

Even the Seas began to part.
And the Mountain tops spread.
I lay there completely dead.
Even the Stars I could not chart.

If only you knew,
If only you were there,
If only you had a clue!
If only life had been fair!

I’d turn the clocks back,
Still standing dead in my track!


Details | Sonnet | |

Finding Truth

Truth that is masked by the heart of a man
Can only explain the start of a lie
A lie so heavy, it spits on your plan
Left with emptiness, your soul on crows fly
Lost while still young, forgotten by the path
Living with shame, that no longer gives pain
Held at the throat by the questions wrath
How dark was made, that ignorant stain
Now you delve into knowledge left by the wise
In order to uncover a truth that was hidden
Burdened with sorrow whilst the nurser cries
Hindered by usurpers who have want of no lesson
Hold on to the railing, prepare a strong mind
For never you know what's out there to find


Details | Sonnet | |

A Penny For Your Thoughts

 Contest entry: 
 Forms: Sonnet (a,b,a,b) (c,d,c,d) (e,f,e,f) (g,g) 
 Three stanzas and a couplet(a summary) ..
 Ten syllables per line

 You may search and find a saying to inspire you please 
 include the quote on your work..
 Please use_ A Penny For Your Thoughts as your title..
 ------------------------------------------------------

A Penny For Your Thoughts

 Father said, son listen to that church bell
 Life just may beat you into submission
 Or drag you deep into a living hell
 To avoid that seek truth as your mission

 Sound of truth rings so very loud and clear
 Let goodness be your greatest living guide
 On that path the Light casts away all fear
 Your love and deeds you will not have to hide

 Son asks, dad how can I always be sure
 Will there not be days of terrible doubt
 My son, live your life seeking to be pure
 Then his love you will never be without

 Tis' the courage to continue that counts
 In this race , best we use our finest mounts

 Robert J. Lindley, 03-14-2015
 Poem contest entry...
 Results shown:

 Poem Syllable Counter Results 
 Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 
 Total # Syllables: 140 Total 
 # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines) 
 Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: 
 N/A Total # Words: 115


 ------------------------------------------------------
 Nationality: English
 Type: Statesman
 Born: November 30, 1874 
 Died: January 24, 1965 

 "Success is not final, failure is 
 not fatal: it is the courage to 
 continue that counts."

 Winston Churchill

 My quote chosen comes from the famous and brilliant
 quote from the epically great Sir Winston Churchill.
 I had to slightly rephrase the quote to meet the ten syllable 
 requirement of the sonnet form used.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Strikes me that the deepest thought we can ever have is this....
Where do we go after this life ends and how do we find that path?
My poem gives the answer that so many reject...


Details | Sonnet | |

More Than Just Words: Repost

                                        I'm tired of you becoming just words,
                                         On every page when I write at night.
                                           I saw you as a pretty face at first;
                                         I wouldn't mind if my ink pen dried.

                                       I say it because you're a human being;
                                           These situations are not my type.
                                       I want "I love you" to mean something,
                                             And you stay right by my side.

                                              Honestly, when I write poetry,
                              The feeling is unconfirmed, undecided, undefined.
                                               You are worth more to me
                                     Than words written down on every line.

                                          I'd prefer to have you in my arms;
                                        Paper and pen will not tear us apart.


                                                

                                                   ©2013 Honestly JT
                               For P.D.' s "Any Poem Goes #6" Poetry Contest


Details | Sonnet | |

The Other Side Of Me

You were the other side of me.
Like two rivers, joined up in a storm,
forging through our unknown landscapes
full of nature, but with purpose.
Learning, wandering and giving birth to new things.
Leveraging all that passed through our hands.

Until we became separated.
Hardship, mistakes divided our vast landscape
back into two, and we returned, to me and to you.
But we are still connected, I can see you
and you can see me, as part of everything that we do.
Forever and ever, our two rivers will run through…

Until we have travelled down to our next bend,
where we might flow back together again.


Details | Sonnet | |

Journey To the Past

(A Blank Verse Sonnet)

I lie in bed at break of day and wait 
to hear a sound which rings across our land,
a sound unknown in days of long ago
when horses hauled all freight from place to place.

Why do I love to hear that lonesome wail?
My heart beats faster as the sound rings out
above the miles crisscrossed by rails of iron.
Is it because my mind goes back in time

to when our hungry hearts were young and you
came home from "over there," when I packed up
my goods and traveled sixteen hundred miles

by train to be with you?  My mind goes back
in time, parades long strings of scenes when we
were filled with love and free to live as one.



Details | Sonnet | |

DOOMSDAY ROCK

      Doomsday Rock
In these, our final days before the end,
come in a moment, faster than the eye,
'tis easy to believe, and comprehend
what lies beyond the end, is not to die;

We'll go as one, together to the last,
a world snuffed out, by something closing in,
that's been ten billion years, and coming fast
but we won't see it coming until then;

the speed it flies is something out of dreams,
much faster than a thought, it will be there,
and what we see won't be just what it seems
until the last, we'll see it everywhere.

In this, the end, out of necessity
we'll all believe, then we'll be history.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Sonnet | |

In the Clouds

Tainui - that great waka in the sky,
  Into the far orbits and blue concaves:
Its Koru and steel gas turbines so high
  At altitude above the planet waves.
And on its metallic longrider wing
  I gazed the sea and stars, the clouds, the sun...
No man has seen a more glorious thing
  Nor behoved a greater journey begun!
I was lost to the travesties of men,
  To my fits of rage and ravage of woe,
To devils on Earth and God in Heaven
  Till the last flight from desolation row.
Thus here I am a longrider who flew
On the wings of Tainui back to you.



                  July 1997


Details | Sonnet | |

Once Upon a Time in Hong Kong

 Away the land of the Flame Tree blossoms
   Orient blown athwart a yellow moon;
 To hearken the far sound of dragon drums
   And ride a Phantom into old Kowloon!
 To Salisbury Road "Peninsula" doors
   Where the trading ships its waters journey,
 Where long ago waged the Opium Wars
   And Britannia ruled the South China Sea.
 Now a new tale of skirmish is retold
   When two foes battled on a foreign field,
 But beware the armies in Green and Gold
   In the World Cup when Blackhearts choke and yield!
'Twas Sun Tzu in the art of war who taught
 Every battle is won before it's fought.


                 


November 2008


Details | Sonnet | |

THE HERO'S JOURNEY



Make what you will
Of this story;
Note the appeal
On plot surely;
Mind and heart know,
Yield to the urge;
Trace a brave show,
Heed a blind surge.
Explore the road,
Claim the journey;
Hope bears the load,
Observe surely;
Expose the trade,
Sense new life laid.




Leon Enriquez
19 October 2014
Singapore


Details | Sonnet | |

Wounded Bird of Flight

Young love bird wounded during your flight
Worried now where your companion landed
You sing a beautiful song, but still no sight
Certainly now he must have gotten stranded

The magical serenade continues to no avail
Some concern now for your own well being
This winter flight treacherous you feel frail
The singing stops, you are hardly breathing

One pilgrimage not completed you feel pain
Some guilt overtakes when you start to heal
The flying before your partner was it in vain
Or is there.a bird needing your singing still

Bird of flight your journey is still not done
Heal now, continue to fly for the other one


Penned by Wayland Bunch 2/12/2013










Details | Sonnet | |

The Long White Cloud

For far shires beyond the western sun
  I'm leaving the Land of the Long White Cloud:
To journey across the blue horizon -
  Shaky Isles to ancient continent proud!
To start anew a kindred colony
  Leaving volcanic ash for desert dust,
Shepherd dales for rainforest canopy
  And cold slicing wind for long summer gust.
Leaving a world where reality bites
  For the Dreamtime People's great southern land!
Outback bushies and cork hat urbanites 
  In the convict Land of the Long White Sand.
Now the Sunshine Coast is the life for me
In palisades and canals by the sea.


                 -------------

Leaving New Zealand to live in Australia.


July 1997


Details | Sonnet | |

Ahhh, Those Sexy Southern Gals

Ahhh, Those Sexy Southern Gals

A write for such a very fine night
echoes drifted in as day lost light
Whispers of former days with sweet gals
partying with my old longtime pals!

Thoughts of future days so far away
living each minute no thought to pay
Life, love and fortune always to be had
we that raced about quite crazy and bad!

Thrills of love lost in it's sad stings
pretty gals angling for a wedding ring
Memories of so many pretty eyes and faces
sexy girls, sexy legs and pretty laces!

Wild were the times of we Southern boys
gone are the days of guns, cars and those sweet ,fast toys....

Robert J. Lindley  07-15-2014

A wild youth remembered by a now very settled old man... 
note: "toys"  has a double meaning..


Details | Sonnet | |

Restless Natives

Creative Native, quite contemplative-
he draws on walls in ancient caves.
So Hieroglyphic speculative:
Cuneiform curses mark mummy graves.

On land the sand, the grains of Man-
exoplated, protective shells.
A last ballast, we're sinking fast;
step lively men, and hoist the sails!

The Tribe has grown and it has thrived-
(their drumbeats echo as if alive!)
We've lost our rudder, I wince and shudder,
and I have lost all will and drive...

No longer fond of the Amazon-
Jungle be damned; I wish 'twere gone!


Details | Sonnet | |

A Mariner's Tale

'Twas on caravel five centuries ago,
   On third voyage a Queen's fleet sailed south-west:
 And the red horizon shone a great glow
   Upon Columbus in flat ocean quest.
 Into island passage beyond gulf trail,
   Through Boca del Dragon on landing wave
 Led the Genoan's flagship under sail -
   Safe travelled and spared a jagged reef's grave!
"Ahoy, far Indies!", land of sun and realm:
  "Isla de la Trinidad" would claim he -
 That virgin New World, that far crossing helm,
   And by Spanish warrant, its territory.
 In a mariner's tale there's one true love:
 Mainsail on the wind - Hesperus above.


                --------------

Trinidad and Tobago.

 
December 1995


Details | Sonnet | |

THE FIRST VOYAGE OF PAUL

    The First Voyage of Paul
A sailing ship, out aimless on the sea
forewarned by Paul--to sail would be a crime,
but captain said "you're safe now--you're with me"
he vowed their trip to Rome would be on time.

And so they set about to sail the main,
not caring that the Fast had well begun--
nor that no sailing man could see a gain,
for such a trip would fail--before it's done.

The captain caused the crew to set their plight
towards a Cyprus port--for needed rest,
when all at once the day turned into night--
and then the wind of God made life a test.

    The temptest blew for days--to Malta's shore
    and set the will of God--forevermore.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Sonnet | |

Pisces, The Fish, Living Waters

Pisces, The Fish, Living Waters

Swimming in cool blue waters so deep
rainbow fish , so pretty the stars weep
Oceans filled with great hope and pride
on celestial waves greatness takes a ride

Constellations shining brightly to see
lights glowing in the past and future be
A sign to speed life on it's merry way 
guiding our spirits into a future day

Neptune stands his mighty waters so well
holding back the monsters from deepest hell
Comets bring in the joy of desperate relief
washing away anguished pains of epic grief

In a bright galaxy so very far, far away
Seas of life exist, love and sweetly play

Robert J. Lindley, 07-12-2014

Sponsor Leonora Galinta 
Contest Name , Poem with a Theme: Zodiac Sign


Details | Sonnet | |

The Sonnet of Valeria Botello

Deep voices from the earth call out her name
Growling and rumbling, corpses from graves
Summoned by the devil, she cannot tame
The monster within, locked away in caves

Her name is a folk tale, forbidden lore
Her lips are untouched, as evil deprives
Her voice is an omen, harbinger roar
Her touch, a death sentence, no one survives

Demons from the depths of hell, here to take
Wicked deals made long ago, ink still wet
Always on the run, death left in the wake
No one understands, the curse that’s been set

Beauty on the surface, pain underneath
The girl who runs from monsters with big teeth

Visit my blog to read the rest of my Free Supernatural Poem Novel: https://freesupernaturalpoeticnovel.wordpress.com/


Details | Sonnet | |

I Wrote Just For You

I Wrote Just For You

I wrote a song for you my precious life
four years courtship and now my wife
Your love and spirit now sweetly sings
removing the former pains and deepened stings

I wrote a poem for you my sweetest love
ten years together my little coo'ing dove
Your gentleness and ardor still inspires
the flames to leap in renewed heart's fires

I wrote a letter to be delivered some day
after life ceases , my spirit can not stay
Your treasure you so joyously gave to me
I will be waiting under Heaven's great tree

Heaven's fold holds a place for your spirit
sings a very special song for you, can you hear it

Robert J. Lindley , 07-10-2014

Dedicated to my wife, my life and all she inspires 
and does for me every second of every day..


Details | Sonnet | |

Quirky Journey

Last cuddling, she tired to besiege the intense in vain,
  Caged parrot still repeating his hobby-horse of eternal matrimony,
Sealed paper, journey of no timing, oh! King you bereaved and unleashed acrimony,
  Prickled his sword, stared beyond her eye balls, full of anxious veins exhibiting pain.

Boundary end, where wind sweep sand, she bade farewell,
  Simmered, he turned and smiled, I will be back,
Fate unravelled itself, the gods must be on the wrong tack,
 Wait I must, as far aging left reasonable days as well.

Years past, the wind whizzed west without echoes of victory or loss,
 Lonely, the porch knows, as a wilful face came buzzing around,
 Tempting, she must flee, but pale skin no friend of her, his return she toss,
 Went away raptured, few days, the church bell jingled a merry sound.

Captured in war and released, surfaced he on the wedding day,
  Patience must not be obsess with time, on her finger another ring lay.


Details | Sonnet | |

CHINA TRIP


Charm has a sure say in this journey far;
Here we go again to see fine China;
Intent funds the way to find a sure star;
Note mountains and plains with clear agenda.
A trip deeper still to meet inner sights;
Touch can discern more as new frontiers greet;
Rise to sensuous thrills that come with sure flight;
Images to store as wonder finds streets.
Picture fond ideas that spring realms unseen;
Choice dazzles the way to unknown landscapes;
Allow fancy near to flower within;
Let new yarns portray myriad forms and shapes.
Look closer and coast the travels that span;
Sounds and sights that toast to a witness friend.


Leon Enriquez
17 May 2014
Singapore