Best Bridge Poems

i believe we all
have a poem in our hearts

some need no metaphors

for a poet is a bridge
between words and emotions
connecting hearts and souls
through all four seasons

my heart is not a guesthouse
it's an asylum for the broken
a treasure of memories 
of those forgotten

so all the names
written...

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A Bridge Over Silent Waters

Never judge your fellow man
Before seeking your own reflection
Not the one that shines in a glass mirror
Seek it in the eyes of your fellow man
His eyes shall reflect your compassion or lack there of

When a pond has no ripples
Look for the...

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In London fog, the river stills.
In silver sleep, it cools and fills
with cobalt mist as dawn unfolds;
above the Thames, the sun bleeds gold.
Into the haze, it pours and pools
like melting opal, liquid jewels
until the brume of morning fades
to prune the sky with unseen blades
that slice...

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Into the timeless wood he fled, running from the night
While demons of his past gave chase beneath the pale moonlight
The man dressed in soiled rags, filth of his own making
Had spent a life unto himself, all others there forsaking.

But in the night, as shadows came,...

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There is a bridge, it crosses over deserts
It cements oceans, binds the icy seas
Flies over fiery vulcans, sings melodious 
Breathes over you a cooling welcome song

A bridge that binds where first was separation
Oblivious to race, beliefs, or sex.
Does not care for timidity, bravado
And all it...

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when your heart is weak
not beating well.
Your tired and weariness overcomes
I will hold your hand,
whispering softly in your ears
I am here for you.

Time has come 
your eyes saying goodbye
your heart no longer beats
I will hold your hand
saying farewell not goodbye
I was here for you.

I hold...

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I walk towards you,
as you stand waiting at the center of the bridge.

Beneath my feet, aged timbers span the churning river below.
With each step I see you more clearly.
My eyes search out the younger you,
that wild child with chestnut hair.
I can still remember your pigtails...

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A girl gleams in her ink dreams
sittin against barn wall sqeakin like a soul freakin,
voices from an unpopulated country
dancin and rockin on her soul's farmland stage,
lyrics and long hair wavin one day in "big city lights" ,
famous without frontin, rebellious without shoutin,
grafetti on those nails...

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Tired timbers creak and groan;
lonely bones now brittle,
once proud and strong when
bearing the harvest weight.
The wagons and muscular engines
were no burden for my
young and supple limbs.

Spanning the Connecticut,
green to granite -
I miss the melody
of wheels and hooves;
the morning breaths
floating and settling among
my rafters - dripping
in...

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The fence on which my feelings pause
Forever will be lost for cause
For should it stop my love to flow
Would pain me more than I could know 

For fences keep out or keep in
To build one would be such a sin
And should one born to me...

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hazy morn has broken
as silhouette of solitary boat
silently sails on Thames river
where a steam train just passed
on pallid emerald bridge
leaving a titanium smoke
that glazes the atmosphere
with a gentle kiss of mist

reflections of the sun rising
a blend of peach and tangerine
mirrored on the still water
spell a...

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To that one soul reading this…
whose problems seem abyss.
There is a bridge to better days,
where sunshine still exists.
To discover the way,
and a warm place to stay,
isn’t hard to recognize.
If you’re searching for clues,
that will help you get through,
they might be in disguise…
The mountains that you...

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Tethered to the omnibus,  
weathering storms ~
lean into it, hang on,  
become the wisp.  

As perception shapes and shifts,  
our eyes sting,  
blind spots get filled in;  
create echo filters.  

Bringing us to our knees ~
we hold on...

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The moon so bold seems cold
with a halo of midnight glow
I sit mesmerized as the night grows old.

I bleed still, even after all these years
and I wait again through the night
aching in the depths of my soul
that no other seems to know
the Loneliness that has...

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	"It is almost impossible to watch a sunset and not dream." – Bern Williams.

The spacious vales shimmered in crimson hues 
The tired, reddish-orange sun tinged the sky,
As it yearned for rest and descend 
Into the darkening horizon below.

There, the soothing river flowed, calm and serene.
No...

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