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Free Verse Places Poems | Free Verse Poems About Places

These Free Verse Places poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Places. These are the best examples of Free Verse Places poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

HER SOFT CANAL



The powder of white sand holds her flesh close to his musk pelvis as she gasps with the murmured waves trembling on the coast of a fragrant mouth against a manly tongue, and they lay on hidden grass in an old Ipanema cove where rippling strokes fondle the east and north of her sylph-like curves: amidst the liquid Brazilian dusk, her flowing hair sinks from the lapping of crest in rhythmic grinds; tanned fingers exploring a soft canal of a nymph's heightened pleasure… by the sea- bend, he pulls her creamy thighs like a driftwood sailing afloat upon each quivered abandon while they melt under balmy trees… without the need to speak. ........................... 100 in a ROW contest -- 11

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014



Details | Free verse |

our colour of yellow

The lake was still sleeping
a light mist rose above,
a weathered dock could be seen,
its aged wood; full of memories.

The air crisp, breeze light,
trees majestic; watching all.
Squirrels  busy scampering,
as a flock of geese soared above.

Way over yonder
clear across the still lake,
shining brightly were yellow shutters,
on our cabin; our special place.

We had toiled the garden
planted yellow roses with great care,
we had painted the old wood shutters,
yellow paint; speckled our hair.

The roof  we re-shingled,
one painstaking nail at a time,
we even counted the ouches;
when our hammers got out of line.

With nothing but smiles
on our weary, aching bodies,
we held hands, and went running,
into the still of the lake; giggling.

We swam out to the dock,
it was a race; he won,
my hand he took laughing;
as he quickly scooped me up.

Our toes dangled playfully
sending ripples in the lake,
as we gazed at our cabin;
yellow shutters; fresh with paint.

The trees swayed slightly
as if nodding with approval,
for our cabin by the lake,
was our private sacred jewel.

As we cuddled together
warmth filled our souls,
for our bright yellow shutters,
symbolized, our love's blossoming growth.

It was on this very dock,
air crisp, breeze light,
when he gave me a yellow rose;
and asked me to be his wife.

Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |

Signs and Times

You say: Wrong place—wrong time,
Maybe: Wrong place—not right time,
Not right place—but wrong time?
I say: This's right place—right time, 
In times and places,
What is the time?
Where is the place
For right not wrong?
Is this like signs
Tearing up the scenery;
What about my mind?
Don't what? I can read the sign!
Oh—Signs of the time?
What’s wrong is not right,
Lord, I will sing this song!
Fight for what’s right 
Correct what's wrong!
In all times and places
Oh, salvation!
Please, be alright,
And make it—
On time!

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

© Joseph, October 11, 2008
© All Rights Reserved

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is 
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which 
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the 
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine; 
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for 
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~


Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |

Afghan Journey

I want to wear a djellabas. Blackness engulfing me in its tentlike refuge veiled in gauze. Or a burkha of blue with a screen over my face to hide my eyes. I want to wear rope sandals down a dusty Afghan road on the warmest of days with the wind whistling through the Khyber Pass. I want to know the language, taste the food, gaze at the bearded men I pass who will not know I am looking at them. They are handsome and brave in Kabul. I want to hear the children reciting the Koran in their Pushtu cadence and play upon a tabir with a beat of peace.

Copyright © Sue Mason | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |

Sweet Suburbia

Driving down the street,
sweet suburbia exhales,
scents of butter pecans
and apple blossoms penetrate the wind,
but secrets hide behind this serene atmosphere.

Momma's passed out on the couch,
Jack's become her best friend.
She has numbed out the pain around her,
rejects the truth.

Bobby loves his gun,
he knows how to make it all come to an end.
One day he'll have the courage,
and take everyone else with him.

Suzy hides in her closet,
she doesn't want daddy to find her,
have his ways like he does.
She just wants to fade away and die.

Papa's working late,
thinking of his sweet desert,
no one knows the world he creates,
while he pushes reality away.

Mittens sits in the windowsill,
watches the strangers pass by,
his tail twitching back and forth,
the only thing that knows the truth behind the doors.

While the house silently cries,
the world will still drive by.
Smell the sweetness in the wind,
be hypnotized,
by a sweet suburban lie.

Copyright © Louise Picek | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |

When Castles Washed Away

Some memories of silver sands, have faded like old photographs. But waves rush in to ponder on, incoming tides of happiness. Our shadows left upon the ground, are looking for a sea-shell found, and kites sail high upon the wind, to take us back, just once again We'd dig the sand, to paradise, to build a castle to the sky and filled our childhood fantasy with knights, and queens, and gallentry... Our hearts, carefree, as we were one, with earth and sky, with wind and sun Lone barefoot walks, along a beach, were followed by our impressed feet ~ The rugged coves, the misty air, the windswept trees, each mystery... can sweep me back, in time, and then, I see it still, so very clear,... where sky and ocean meet again Restless eucalyptus leaves, that scatter in the ruthless wind can bring to me a childhood shore, A place I left my heart and more Gulls that circle, high above Reminding me of days so loved Where castles made of sand were found Until the waves came crashing down Today I climb the winding path That lingers yet, in aftermath I'm dazzled by this new day's glare, reflected from those other years This place I knew when summer came Now warms my heart from winter's game Where blooming lilacs danced a tune And summer's end would come too soon

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Reservoir of Dreams

Draped in silent fog, is a reservoir of dreams weathering each season, with a mystifying scheme … On a wind-swept shelf, she is silently sleeping Where secrets are guarded and are hers for the keeping Looking out at the tide, where the seagulls are sweeping In her moldering courtyard, where quadrivial paths meld, Among ancient arches of an old Spanish style Names locked in history, many stories revealed Etched in the headstones, where angels have dwelled The cracked marble fountain with polished ligures, Above the church doorway, vines are withering, bare Aloft from the steeple, are the four watchful eyes Looking out to the sea, and the deep crimson tide Three vestige bells dangle from loft, overhead Their voices are quiet, with pericopes spoken Soft hymns of doves, fill the rafters, instead From crumbling ruins, bricks humbly laid There are shadows of saints...and moss covered jade A weeping old willow, with leaves crackling dry I drink with my ears, and listen with an eye Of all those who prayed, for those who passed by Unbelievable echoes, the tolling of the bells Making sense of the senseless, I can hear what it tells Giving voice to my feelings, and new hope to my eyes A peace in my heart, where the holy grail lies Are heard in the voice, in the church of blue tides
____________________________________________________________________ For The Contest Sponsored By Shadow Hamilton "Any Subject" Using Words: unbelievable, mystical, ligure, pericope, reservoir, quadrivial, 7/22/13

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Grand Canyon

Some people are voices
On the edge of rocks
With steep slopes and cliffs.
Some people are echoes
At the bottom of walls
Carved by rushing waters.

Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |

Louisiana Bayou

Chilly late October;
early morning fog banks
the roadside, cloaks
a trickling bayou...
in the thickets of dense trees,
the wispy tufts 
top man-high
goldenrod, Queen Anne's lace,
dried-out thistle stalks...
A school bus, solitary,
yellow, slowly passes
on skinny black asphalt
where wet spots reflect
the newly risen sun.
Only rustles of high,
green cane fields and 
intermittent bird songs
interrupt pervasive quiet...
Timelessness, and solace --
calming, soothing --
a Louisiana bayou:
Bayou Sale.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

New York City's Greenwich Village

                                          Greenwich Village breathes,
                                       She inhales exhausted tepid air,
                                And exhales blustery winds of possibility.
                              The lady blows away the veils of dishonesty.

                                       Tangled streets strung together,
                                   Knotted masses of pearls and poetry,                  
                               Entwining marbled heroes,rounded arches, 
                                  Crucifixes,and snakes penned on skin.

                                  Artists, tourists, vagrants,and scholars,
                                   Know the calling of its siren song well.
                                   People living on the fringe of humanity,
                                    And those from the upper crust, fuse.

                                     The village is the one spot on earth
                                Where you can expose your primal desires,
                                     And explore their depths unfettered.
                                 She is a lovely harlot who lives to please .

                                   Musicians and thinkers engage in chess,
                             Neighbors line the benches of it's central park.
                                  Children run naked through its fountains.
                                  The poor and idol rich roam, anonymously.

                                    A reader of fortunes lays out his cards,
                                 Lovers tango,who knows which one leads?
                                 Perhaps all the seekers will find their way,
                                   And the leaders will learn how to see?

                           Lady Greenwich Village,the canvas of New York life,
                              Her face painted with brilliant spattered oils.
                                Each of us can add our own divine colors, 
                            Dripping and blending with individual uniqueness.


Copyright © Brenda Atry | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

EARTHY GLOW ON A FARMLAND



Sometime, in July's budding charm when the harvest of earth's clay affirms that which exposes a content heart, I remember a glimpse of rare delight accepting the slow exposure of one morn when daylight warms Grandpa’s hands soaked in earthy glow on his farmland. A rumbling wind turns amiable, as bamboo drifts along lush curls glossing the husk of our fond whispers, oh, it is as simple as that: his gaiety becomes an answered prayer tasting the bliss of simple favors bestowed by a yield of cornfields reflecting the thrill of labor harnessed. In a flash, I watch Gramps' hat flying like a kite across a wispy sky, my innocence releases a laughter’s dance playful and blithe at age seven, while he, born from fruits of life ripens still, on his golden year with ease. Rob Carmack's Golden Days 4/3/2015

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

An affair with nature

Pass onto this thinking place
Pristine with luster and rhythmic textures
Bath in its heart-warming splendor
Here in this monolithic emerald patchwork
This relationship consoles your psyche
A pluck from here, a collection from there
A rack of tools and an now idle straw-hat 
From the loam to dust that stick upon your shoes
A place to conceal with an atmosphere 
Contiguous to the eyes embracing and rich
Time honored in its entirety
Carefully romanced by birds and creatures alike
I found you here in a home of comforts
Now your essence is complete 
Behold the gardens of light and sound 
As perfect as the gift given to man 
A portrait flowering a secrete of love
Its scenery influences your center 
Today and always 
A thinking place
With a reflecting pool  



Copyright © Laura Mckenzie | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

Amazement

I stand in voiceless, transfixed gaze, where once two towers pierced the sky 
And through a fog of stinging tears, I'm still amazed that through the years,
emotion's grip, still chokes a phrase

A day, so many years ago, we traveled up to see the stars
from high upon a rising spire,
not knowing then, what we have learned

How fragile life will bend and curve,
and take away in one brief day, the voice of reason, never heard

I'm back again, and through the pain, I read the names, now carved like graves
Where water streams three thousand tears, and years can't wash away the pain
Where bitter comes the taste of rain

Yet, reverently, the voice is clear
of hope and pride, where life begins

Raw photographs have not been blurred, in spite of where my heart was plunged,
into the darkest dungeon known

And still the blackest smoke has turned
into amazement, where I've grown

to treasure good before it's gone...


________________________________________________________________
For Contest Sponsored By FJ Thomas "My Spirit"

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Memories etched in the sand

Sifting warm sand 
through my fingers,
shimmering fine grains 
glitter my palm.
Sand,
filled with life’s memories
of nut brown days
of summer.

A soft silk breeze 
formed dunes
with our dreams 
that summer
when we danced to the stars.
My heart laced yours
listening to the sea
undulating waves of emotion
as we kissed 
on the velvet strand.

I still hear
the rhythm of the ocean.
Waves tumbling in unison,
a sweeping sound 
gently caressing
as we lay silently 
listening to sand
shifting over stone
to the faint chiming
of seashells.

My first love
a sea salted embrace
on a breast of sand.
The memories
forever held
in the sand
in glitter on my hand.

Copyright © Eiken Laan | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

In The Land 'O Green

Sun declines, beneath the emerald rim
And I'll be headin' home...
to a cottage in the moor lands 
with a fire to warm me' bones

The kettle of beans are boilin'
and some coals will bake me scones
I will rest my weary shoulders
And be glad for what I've seen

I've witnessed bracken turn so reddin'
like a wildfire on the mountain
And wee nanny goats on hillsides,
too many now, for countin'

Heather waves in summer breezes...
Granite stones, and bogs of grass,
water gleams like shining glass
and harshness blows for but a reason
to turn around the seasons
Thar' be wavin' sails upon the blue
And leafy shamrocks on the green 
Where rugged shores, and seagulls cry,
and pink skies capture me

Friendly folks be bearin' ruddy cheeks,
There's a colleen, fair thee lass
Who will tip our mug at village pub, 
And we'll make a toast to Patrick's kin
and order one more glass

Let me always sink me' Irish eyes  
upon the rugged land
Upon the skies, upon the streams, 
where druid legends live
Upon the grand home of the clan, 
where many roots began

Where the ole' pale moon at nightfall, 
scatters me memories all a'glowing
Of fair thee rose of old Tralee,
over garden trellis growin' 

Charming valleys, greener hillsides,
fill thee heart of all 'me clan
Pick ye' a shamrock.... look for gold, 
shake yer' hands with leprechauns
Kiss a Blarney stone in sweet Killarny, 
come to all that's home to me
Where names of O'Reily, or McDougal sprung
and the color green began

________________________________________________

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Twinkle Twinkling Lights

Twinkle twinkling lights beyond beyond my house. . . out to where the mountains meet low and blackened clouds. Twilight time in January all is bathed in gray. No rainbowed hues dance hither to tag this winter's day. Out to where the lights across the valley towns are a myriad of fireflies that flicker flicker round . . . their circle ever grows as evenfall grows thicker. People settle in. The temperature will drop. Night . . . and soon more lightning bugs will join in the throng, absorbing all the warmth of all the others' twinkle twinkling lights. (The city of Pleasant Grove and surrounding Utah Valley cities in January from twilight to night.) For Deb's Contest: City Lights Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Stretch Marks

A foot of water
Barely blurs them
The pinkish bruises
Spanned like hands
Across my hips

I press my fingers to them
Try to align them with the crooked broken lines
That tear across my body

They are violet roads
On a map that is me
Starting pale at the backs of my knees
Stretch to meet the butterflies
That touch and leave
And touch and leave
The tall tall grass

And they gently circle my breasts
Where I fold the grass
Beneath my back
Find eyes that aren't mine
And kiss
Kiss 
Kiss

And they wrap tight around my thighs
Leaving dark deep grooves
Somewhere dead
And new
Where his face is suddenly old to me

And I wash it from my skin
Wash it away
Away
Away

Copyright © Gracie Bawden | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

Jamaica IsLands

Sun blazed;
Crystal clear
Skies, sparkle
Diamonds of
True beauty bliss...

Jamaica Islands
Exports with "JAH LOVE",
NO DISCRIMINATION.

SO Break-Out the tanning-oil
and beach towel kick-off 
your shoes, let your
Hair down N' hang- loose...
For awhile.

Take A swim to refresh 
Your mind and feel relaxed
Sand tickling your toes.

Peacefully and Enjoy Life:
For "JAMAICA ISLANDS IS;
HERE TO STAY...." WE ARE
ALL ONE BIG FAM AT JAMAICA 
ISLANDS!!!"

Written By:
SWEET N' SOUR= CARMA

06-24-12


A Tribute to a great poet n' writer:
RICHARD PALMER        THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT
                                        SOUP " FAM" TO THE END....

Entered in contest Letting your hair down
Sponsored by: Yasmin Khan

Copyright © Carma Reed | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

The dying red giant

It stands alone
in a field of loneliness and neglect
the bright red paint has faded into a murky brown
a strict reminder from mother natures pounding fury through the years
once housing a families treasures
now only stores their forgotten tears

The door hangs lazily from its missing bolts
its hinges silent and perfectly rusted
as children we played inside its sturdy walls
now, it cant be trusted

It stands alone
the barn...
surrounded by a field of weeds and decay
tired and broken
it waits for its eventual collapse
a once bright red smile has faded
its loneliness has no purpose
not anymore

Copyright © Kurt Kohls | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

Train, Alone

I wail lonely
in your distances
as endless trestles travel I

Know

I was here I was
present
on your horizons,
present in your town

Come, ride with me
Come, keep me 
from obsolescence, keep me
alive

Without you
Within me
I am meaningless,
blind

For how can I see, and, yes,
Who can I show,

If  not you... if not you... if not you 

Copyright © Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |

The Universal Man

I shall live and die By my own accord Only my God may judge me To him I've proved my worth I am still here fighting It matters not what for On my ship of righteousness Headed for waters unexplored The clear night sky will darken And the clouds seem ominous I take heed to the sure signs From them I won't digress They are in the way of my dreams And hopes that fill my sails Like the wind from my heaven Keeps my skin tough as nails Evil comes to tempt me I am not immune Sometimes I play the hero Other times I'm just a fool Either way the choice is mine I make it with my free will For that's the gift he gave me And for what I fight for still The government is coming To bring a chaos they call order The line has been drawn Between two sides there is a border I feel myself being torn To choose a fate in stone Let this be a lesson Why I wander on my own Minds can be controlled I see it every day The weak wills fall like dominos That lie littering my way An obstacle before me I iron will it to the end And when the devil comes to dance with me I have already started to transcend into everything around I am the universal man my true form I shall disguise I am hiding it from this great Satan they say will come for my demise I know he will find me maybe he already has in a long gone nightmare that my soul he stole at last if I remember correctly I can't say I recall ever escaping his grip or did it ever touch me at all?

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Still.

For this desire
to someday be accommodated,
we shall sit in front of the fire,
lodge chairs at angles akin to talking low,
honey cognac thick,
whispers even thicker,
and you will tell me life.

From the moment your memory begins
you will unravel the senses in dark licorice words
by crackling light.

We will throw lithium on the fire
and watch the shadows turn red
in our laughter

...just children, really, despite our age...

The night will wane as good nights always do,
and we'll sleep on and off in the chairs,
in the midst of the other's story.
It won't matter, as it all becomes a dream anyway
and we'll never tend the fire till it gives up it's coal.

At 5 am our voices will be hoarse
and our legs will be angry at us for pretzeling them,
so we will rise to make strong coffee.
You, grinding powder brown beans,
and me finding two perfect cups for hand holding,
brushing past you electric in the process.

After the brew, after our lives have been told, 
at the precise red photograph of sunrise,
we will sleep.

My head will fall sullen on your shoulder, 
angry at my inability to control my eyes to stay with you a moment more,
and this new world, which has spun at twice it's
normal speed since meeting you,

will suddenly, 
finally,
be still.

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |

Wild Horses ~ {a septolet}


beautiful bangtail
spirit untamed
racing tumbleweeds
thundering
across mesas

stallions wrestle
under night skies...

Copyright © Patricia Sawyer | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse |

Monolith

There are things we speak of, while we stroll
along the ridge, in summer sun
The mundane things, a chore, a task
ignoring what is stone and ash
or how it came to be,... to grasp
this place, we've named "Serenity"

The magnitude that lived within
had once emerged, a debutante 
It pushed its way up through the core
with first, a thrust,  a trembling 
to break the crust with shooting stars
to forge the rock where we now stand

The frozen years are buried here
And frost still sleeps in hallowed graves
of valleys deep, and jagged peaks 
Blue ribbons, sprout from melting snow
and purple shadows shelter growth
of trees and shrub , while sundown throws
a flame to warm the granite's dome 
to shine a light on history

Will we ponder, eyes in awe
while strolling,  deep into the past
of wilderness and ancient lore
into the vast of questions asked
and of everything that slept before?




__________________________________________________
Contest: Mountains: Judged 7/18/16

Written: 7/15/16
Resubmitted For Contest:  I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada- 2
Sponsored by Broken Wings

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

A walk with me

Waves crash the rocks in ecstasy
as I pass the archway 
to the sea.
Onwards to the village, 
busy cafes,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
as a power of teens gather, texting.
 
I venture down 
a chestnut lined road
under a canopy 
of Copper Beech
where bright shafts of sun
illuminate a lane of lavender 
a sea of perfume
wafts the air.
 
Climbing an incline, 
hills in view,
the distant sobbing
of water sounds
a trickling brook emerges
ambling through magenta heather
and thorny gorse.

I reach a stile, 
entrance to the woods
where a carpet 
of frosted red cyclamen 
bleeds down to a deep dark glen.
A chicory lake lies there, frozen
as a mist uncurls between reeds.
  
The granite hills,
 soft with snow,
luminous against a whale grey sky.
A copse of pine trees
surround a curving river
where trout pout, bubbling.
 
At the fold of day, 
returning hom
The pale sun sinks the horizon
as stars tremble
into a velvet night



Copyright © Eiken Laan | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

in absolute darkness

Do you know what its like to be 
in absolute darkness?
I do. 
And I want to be back
on a foggy night
where winter doesn't fall too far
the only thing you can see 
is a distant street light
yellow and gold
glowing from the distance
the wet leaves that fell from the trees 
fill the night 
with a dewy smell
darkness. 
I turn the key
bright headlights
flood the road
one line, two lines, 
they all combine
into a white blur keeping me 
from crossing into the abyss
I could drive forever 
alone. 
I want to be gone again
back to my home.

Copyright © Amy Kramer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Beinn Nibheis - Scene 1

I sit and pause, looking at the sky blue ceiling above me. White vapour cotton wool clouds
gently float like water lilies on an upside down pond. My humble seat, an igneous rock
from the Devonian period. A glaciation past has moulded this comfort to rest this weary
climber. I am in fortunate delight as this skyscraper of old can turn nasty with nature.
These marvels can unite and lure unsuspected hikers, and draw them into a weather world
they have never known. The gulley's and faces of this quite wonderful Munro hide
challenges and dangers for all who dare climb. Many have been lost as they become
disorientated, as natures weather closes in.

The ascent route to the summit on a day like today is quite wonderful. The beauty of the
glens, with their sporadic mix of andesite and basaltic lava mountains, rival many a range
on our fine planet. Many colours explode on the surrounding canvas. Greens and beige's,
greys mingling with red granite masses. Screes are in evidence, a sign of the range ageing
as natures seasons take their toll. Plant life carpets the slopes, where grasses of sorts
mingle with the purple and white heather. Ferns from a prehistoric age fan out catching
the breeze, like Sea´ ferns´ in the ocean.

As i climbed, at various intervals i would close my eyes and listen to the calls of the
wild. The sporadic bleating of sheep, as if echoing through the glens. Crows and their
hooded cousins fly sorties looking for carrion of such. Suddenly they scatter, as royalty
makes a welcomed appearance. As majestic as the King of the mountains can be, a Golden
Eagle glides on the thermals. His subjects looking on from a distance, for fear of
angering him. Rabbits, lizards and even sheep and lambs, bow down in whatever chambers of
safety allows them. As graceful as he arrived, he leaves. Slowly but slowly, the lookouts
of the species declare their haven a safe zone.

This climb has certainly given me a thirst, as the thinned mountain air leaves me tired.
Nearby a small stream offers a weary climber a much needed tonic. This pure fresh
translucent chemical substance quenches my crave, with a gentle splash over my sun beaten
face, i feel refreshed to a point.




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

City of Shadows

A lonesome boat in the harbor rocks insanity.
Big waves of the black sea roll across the white sands
that fade into darkness for eternity.
Far from the life giving drops of rain are predators
in the city of shadows.
Feelings from the last solem breezes blow.
As the evening sun fades slowly into the night,
the pavement glistens like cracked glass
from the earlier evening rain.
A lack of silence remains.
In the city of shadows,
screaming voices creep in the corner of your mind.
Visions of the garden where the flowers died.
The dark alley reveals the emptiness of peace within your soul,
and death reveals the cold, cold truth way beneath the black crumbled earth.
Slapped with a strike of lightning,
disrupting the fall of silence where secrets crawl to hide,
in the foxholes of one's mind.
In the city of shadows, bewildered minds tick with the time of the clock.
Breath by breath falls perfectly out of place,
and darkness opens a new gate.
Tunes of the violin slowly fade away.
A new awakening to blindness,
in the city of shadows.

Copyright © shannon farlouis | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

World

Close your eyes to see the world . .  and open your heart to feel it.

Copyright © Gareth Smith | Year Posted 2012