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The Best Greener Pastures Poems

Internal Interview

Living amid the blurred lines of my reflections
Stark cold fears snow me blanket my resolve
Nestled my leafless core begging for rebirth

Patches of life clumped to the reality of what is what was
Soul penetrating every doubt of self worth 
Raw exposure of glory days forgone

Dreams engulf the rapture of greener pastures
Revealed in roots embedded firmly in my foundation 
Seeds flourish branches extend and trunks stand firm

Copyright © Carol B. | Year Posted 2016

A Lovers World And Dreamers Dream

Hope lives on a four leaf clover.
Greener pastures when yesterday's over.
My heart spins when her hair gets twirled.
And I start to shake in this lovers world.

I walked around the corner and stayed awhile.
That's where I was when I seen her smile.
I felt more in that moment than in my whole life.
Straight to my heart just like a knife.

I've made that turn a time or two.
But theres no turning round now that it's you.
The sun came up on the other side.
Took away any shadow where I can hide.

Destiny delivered a dream for two.
Everything has suddenly become pink and blue.
I can't help but wait for the bubble to pop.
Borrowed trouble in this dream balloon shop.

Hope lives on a four leaf clover. 
Greener pastures when yesterday's over.
My heart spins when her hair gets twirled.
And I start to shake in this lovers world.

Copyright © robert johnson | Year Posted 2013

Lucky at Home

You’d think a dog named Lucky,
Would lead a decent life.
But Lucky had his troubles,
And they followed day and night.

One day Lucky ran away
In search of greener pastures.
Just to find a field ablaze,
Thus the start of his disasters.

Although Lucky didn’t die that day
And no limbs or parts were broken,
Lucky smelled of smoldered hair
And you’d swear he kept on smokin!

And Lucky liked to chase the cars,
Till the day he lost his nerve
When Lucky met a big ‘ol bus
That couldn’t stop or swerve.

I’m not sure just how it hit him
Or how he’s here today.
But he’s never walked straight since,
And one eye veers away.

My Lucky always clashed with cats
And was leery of their paws.
Until a “Tom” of forty pounds
Let Lucky feel his jaws.

Hair and fur balls filled the air
Like Cottonwoods a bloomin.
Poor ‘ol Lucky lost an ear,
And now looks twice as stupid.

I confess, I named him wrong
And why he stays, I’ll never know.
I guess that I’m the lucky one,
To have Lucky here at home.

Copyright © Tom Valles | Year Posted 2014

Gods' Flock

The fruit of life,
I eat today,
Far from the flock, 
I will not stray,
Greener pastures ,
Without my Shepard,
I will not stray,
I will not be tempted,
I will say nay,
Sheep have been stolen,
Who went that way,
Now living a life,
Of gloom and grey,
Living in this flock,
I'm protected,I am sweet, 
Grazing salvation,
At the Saviours' feet.... 

Copyright © Richard Palmer | Year Posted 2012

It's Not Easy Being Green

ITS NOT EASY BEING GREEN


Green has much responsibility.
Green is everywhere!
A touch of blue, a dash of yellow
it sings of vitality
and rebirth.
Symbolic of spring, green brings
balance and the renewal of nature.
It walks a tightrope of positives 
green thumbs, green lights
greener pastures, emeralds
and negatives
green around the gills
envy and greed, aliens.
It’s not easy being green!

Copyright © Liz Labadie-Reilly | Year Posted 2016

greener pastures

Fleeing into dark night, I run
A truth not wholly accepted
A promise breaking as I write
One story ends, one rejected

I question my decisions now
Fleeing into dark night, I run
Rejection sets me on my way
As to wishes I did have one

The broken mirror reflects all
A dream remaining but no time
Fleeing into dark night,  I run
Only one madness to my rhyme

I run far, always looking back
No hope remains under the sun
Great sentiment jolted off track
Fleeing into dark night, I run

Copyright © wayland bunch | Year Posted 2013

half way

on a blank canvas
i begin painting
as one builts 
a great big wall 
So high, 
trapped in myself 
Shut away from life's hurt 

Dreaming of greener pastures 
One with happiness 
Safe in my Dreams, 
An apparition 
of what life 
could offer 
Feeling unworthy 
of a place 
Left with cruel words 

Making one feel 
bad about myself, 
in the reflection 
upon the ripples 
a shattered illusion 
on the surface breaks 

Touched by 
my inner most desire, 
Like a child's
 first steps 
Happy when finding 
one's feet, 
Slowly learning 
to trust your feelings 
Smiling when they come 
back again 

climbing this wall nervously 
Walking to the summit, 
Dreaming of love 
A vision 
of happiness, 
Escaping my prison 

Staring off 
into the stars 
At ease 
with the distance, 
So close, 
yet so far

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2013

My Chandigarh

My Chandigarh 





City beautiful as it is rightly named,
Greener pastures, treetops embrace;
Wider roads, traffic perfectly tamed,
Clean as could be, an absolute grace.

Rich in culture, hospitable and kind,
Draped in passion, the tender hearts;
We, the people, have got lucid minds, 
Versatile sunrises give us daily starts.

Merry go rounds mesmerise our kids, 
College cafes, pubs fascinate the young;
Beautiful garden where the elderly sits, 
Our roots are deep, branches well clung;

History and heritage inspirit true goals
as twilight hymns imbrue into our souls.




Written Jan 5th,2017
For contest by Silent one 

Copyright © Dr. Upma A. Sharma | Year Posted 2017

My Shackled Heart

O Memory I beg you set me free;
remove these binding shackles from my heart.
My recollections won’t you let me be;
allow my life to have a brand new start.

‘Twas just a year ago my love walked out
in search of greener pastures for to lie;
to find herself and left me here to doubt,
and try to understand the reasons why.

My mind is filled with lonely memories;
the springtime of our love and times we shared,
and how her passions always tried to please,
but now I wonder if she ever cared.

Release me now O cruel Memory;
allow my lonely heart to be set free.


April 24, 2018

Copyright © John Gondolf | Year Posted 2018

A Sad Good-bye to My Friend

I heard my handsome friend is moving,
I'll miss him day by day.

He is moving onto greener pastures,
Each night and day.

How can you say good-bye,
When you have come to love him as a friend.

You love his handsome appearance ,
His kind manner and hugs.

I will miss you my dear friend,
Don't forget me,i won' t forget you.

I looked forward to everyday when I could see you,
I hope he will come back to see us again.

You are always friendly and I enjoyed your beautiful handshake,
When I first met you and your outgoing manner.

You used to make my day complete,
i will miss you terribly, my handsome friend that has moved away.

May God bless you on your next mission,
Until we meet  again in the future.

Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz.

Copyright © Gwen Schuetz | Year Posted 2018

Filipino roots

What reminds me always of my own identity 
being born in the Philippines, a poor nation;
faith and history that nurture my thinking,
their colossal meaning shows how I am doing.

  Perhaps an upbringing in my own family culture
  can add a vital implication in my behavior
  yes, it’s pretty evident as I keep going
  with my own certainty in language articulation.

Our constant struggles, miseries and beliefs
provide a perspective that comes with faith;
it’s a way to get plunged into the mainstream
that life in the Philippines has shaped my whole being.

  Major hurdles as reflected in various situations,
  the core truth of being subject to wrestle with life,
  along with the fullness of time and the so-called ‘leb’ 
  a challenge, indeed; the incarnation of my interior sense.

It is an awareness that poverty in most parts of the country
makes me realize that something has to be done so far,
it’s a person’s longing to achieve that goal of going elsewhere
like in the States, UK, Australia, Hong Kong or Malaysia.

  That quest for greener pastures and other human aspirations
  employment takes the centerpiece as a redeeming treasure;
  like a “chiaroscuro”  in the haven of human acquisition
  where hope begets hope and where faith begets faith.

Well, seeing the reality of my own people’s struggles
I cannot help but be responsive to what they long for;;
a call from within drawn across the cry of the poor,
my own people, my sibling souls in the right direction.

  I’ve developed that attitude of love and compassion
  especially to those who’re eclipsed by epic proportion
  in their search for peace, justice and Christian thought
  with their roots plunged into the depth where we are.

Copyright © mark escobar | Year Posted 2012

Oh My Son

Oh my son, my son…
What have you done?
You will never know of my sleepless nights
or turmoil of waking from nightmares.
Lost to me are the years of your teens.
We were so close before that fateful day
when you took flight to what you thought
were greener pastures that turned out to be black.
I want you back! I see your face everywhere I look.
I swear they are you, until I get close.
Same tennis shoes and baggy jeans and shirt
with dirt on your knees. I can’t breathe.

It is never you and my lonely heart cries
As do my eyes, for you to return.  
I remember your laugh, never a giggle but 
hearty loud laughter, making me laugh too.
You made me relive my teen years for just a few.
At fourteen, the look of a tall man, but with the
tormented soul of a searching boy, searching to
find yourself on the other side of the ocean.
I still mourn the loss of those long seven years,
years that I lack and can never get back.
Now that you are grown with a son of your own,
I hope he never leaves you with a broken heart.

© 2014 Connie Marcum Wong

Contest-Loneliness 
Sponsored by Frank Herrera

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014

Home

There is no place as better as home
not even heaven is as better as home

He strolled aimlessly in the streets of Amsterdam,
deep in reverie and gnashing his teeth.
Here, he had come for greener pastures
and gold,he had hoarded.
He lives in affluence, in destitude of nothing.
But lurking somewhere in his heart is a longing,
a longing that cannot be satisfied there,
A longing for home.

To yaounde because of an obligation
that is important for my education,
I embarked.
Everything cruises well for me but for one thing;
A longing for home.

A home is a haven more that heaven
She is the mother to all orphans
a place to relieve you of your solitude
it is an antidote to loneliness and homesickness

On several occasions, from Amsterdam he had called,
calling to tell me of his one unhappiness.
‘MICHAEL, I MISS HOME’

So really, there is no place as better as home,
NOT EVEN HEAVEN

Copyright © Temajung Michael Tanjang | Year Posted 2014

A Way To Greener Pastures

My words echo back to me
Off barren walls
Through empty halls
Find no hearing ears this eve
Except my own
I'm quite alone.

Soon perhaps I'll leave this place
For greener fields
'Cross distant hills
And never happen back this way
Except in thought
For lessons taught.

I'll follow perchance this gale
That birthed my soul
And kept the coals of hope aglow
A peaceful breeze that fills my sails
And safely takes me
Across seas of animosities.

Here the grass has all but died
And turned to brown
Exposing bare ground
No longer can my roots be tied
I'll leave the wind the master
To choose a way to greener pastures.


                                Timothy I. Brumley



Just in case any of my fans are wondering, I wrote this poem in 1979 just
before coming back from overseas during my enlistment in the Air Force.
The breeze, or gale, mentioned above represents the Holy Spirit.

Copyright © Timothy Brumley | Year Posted 2011

A Regulated Sonata

Deeply inspired by a piano cover for a song called “With a thousand 
words to say but one”…the heart never, ever forgets. Wrote this in 6 minutes, 
the length of the song itself...

6 minutes, granted

Permission from my agnostic lord,
To shed you from these reinforced tonsils

To undo God’s whisper of 2008,
I would

To undo all my darkened hours,
I would

I taste the bastion of clouded whispers
Relinquishing greener pastures

4 minutes remaining

…

I still miss you.

The yesterday
Of you

But, today,
I grab exponential smile
With serenity plated exhales,
That you’re gone

I picture how irregular my heartbeat
Would become
If you whispered carnivorous greetings upon
These unfiltered eyelids

60 seconds

…

As the landlord of my domain,
I evict you
Still leaving a window cracked

Similar to my 3rd eye

Forever dreaming 
For the yesterday of you

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2014

A Distempered Horse

There once was a skinny horse name George.
Poor ole soul lived alone in a gorge.
Three fit sheep came his way.
They were traded that day.
Matted, bony, his belly engorged.  

Onward He forged, living on the brink.
I’ll save him, one young maiden did think.
Head hung; life was his game.
George, his infamous name.
She prayed; from his needs, she did not shrink.

George would not drink; lips were cracked and dry.
She asked God, “Please don’t let him die.”
Water was his kismet.
Sweet feed filled hope’s bucket.
She cut out mats; whisked away each fly.

Six months later, George was still alive.
Lips were moist; he ate; began to thrive.
With some flesh on his bones,
And relieved of his groans,
The day of her moving would arrive.

The time came when George had to be sold.
Half Arabian, not very old
Registration papers.
The old trader’s capers,
You promised them, the young girl cajoled.

How could he live; does he have luster?
Papers lost; no death by distemper.
Confessions on that day,
The girl went away.
Compassion to the horse did whisper.

New owners bought him, his health still poor.
His price and potential was the big lure.
They quickly changed his name.
Greener pastures, the game.
Star’s beauty became his life’s encore.

© June 7, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: A Horse Story 	 
Sponsored by: Carol Brown

(Based on a true story)

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2011

Boy Malaysia

Who is this Malaysian boy?
His style is dashing,
His eyes are beckoning.
He is the eastern boy from Nnewi,
With the hands that work all day,
Where poverty has no space.
He is the western boy from Ile-Ife,
With the reckoning personality of dignity,
Here,kingship breeds.
He is the northern boy from Daura,
With the ancestral voyage of valour,
A nature of prestige.

You'll find him in his abode,
In the central district of Kuala Lumpur,
He burns candles at both ends,
The Nigerian trait of dutifulness.
Leaving b'ami,ma'mi,Aduke and Akanni back home,
He had tears in his eyes.
Again,his face lit up with the hopes of riches and glamours.
"In the nearest years", he had said,"I'll be rich and famous".
"I'll buy mama,papa,Nwanne and Nna each,a plot of land".
"Magnificent structures will stand on each land".

"Aminatu and Aliyu will go to better schools",
"Ramatallahi will no longer be a milk-maid".
He said these when leaving the shores of his fatherland.
His kidneys are dually intact,
They are very special to him.
He has been taught the essence of hardwork.
He understands the menace of moral decadences,
And the consequences therein.
He's indeed not a drug peddler,
He is not into cybercrime,
He's only gone in search of greener pastures.

Copyright © Adejumoke Adewuyi | Year Posted 2016

DESIGN OF A BEAUTIFUL LIFE

What would twice be without; the moon and the sun
The men and the women; that brought creation to the earth
The sun and the flowers; that will always blossoms to life
The clouds and the rains; pour draperies of life
The night and the day; will always fall on us for a new day
The full and the hunger; fed us most
The poor and the rich; builders up new mansion in front of them
The hopeless and the hopeful; for now
The ugly and the beautiful; bolded in this beauty and the beast
The ancient and the; modernism we all aging to it
The mother and the nature; to this greener pastures
The gold’s and the diamonds; will shine so pricelessly precious to us
The cold and the hot; in this weather
The failing and the passing; passes by for another yesterday
The pain and the happiness; they cry together
The matrimony and the divorce; vows lingering carelessly upheld not
The good and the evil; will drown us in hell
The guilty and the innocent; judged to all to this design of a beautiful life
..............................................................................................................
CHAPTER 2 THEME: TRANSITION POETRY is a deep in true substantial obscurity of science in fiction, dreams in spatiality to bring sense to the world about the world in poetic form. Reality steps that it’s spiritually capturing glimpses of life in the most aspheric Dadaism, surrealism in its impression of metaphysical poetry. 

Copyright © Prince Nkgadima | Year Posted 2015

ONCE IN AWHILE

Once in awhile
Two lives will meet
There is a reason for this
Though we may not know why
In time we'll know what was not to be missed.

I bless the moment she came my way
She's been a rock to me
My escape, my dearest friend, she means everything
A friend is meant to be.

Once in awhile
An angel of God walks upon this earth
Being the type of friend
More than what anything else is worth.

I'd shout it from the mountaintops
To make one understand
When God sends you an angel
You'll hold no better hand.

Once that special person's time comes to be leaving
Grieving, I will do plenty
But one thing I will keep with me
Is her faith in believing.

Once in awhile
Two lives meet
There was a reason for this
I thank the Lord for blessing me so
For our pathways are filled with Heavenly bliss

In memory of my neighbor, my best friend Dottie, who left this world for greener pastures September 2011 - she has earned her wings..........

Copyright © Candi Lynn | Year Posted 2014

The Ballad of Nelly and Me

Rolled about a bit I’d say
Since Nell and I first met
Denver down to Old Fort Lauderdale

Flatland fever hit one day and
Drowning in our sweat
Mountains pulled us up a dusty trail

Cut down trees and nested in
The Hills of Carolina
Dogs and cats and serendipity

People there talked funny and
We soon ran out of money
Greener pastures called from Tennessee

Love to gather Moss someday
Like other rocks we know but
Moss comes with a price it sure ain’t free

Far off places beckon
That’s when Nell and I must go
Life’s too short for stones like us you see
Too short for rolling stones like Nelly and me

Bogging down in Tennessee
The itch began returning
Folks stopped buying what I had to sell

Call from California came and
Set our hearts to burning
Westward roll might ease this itching spell

Packed it in and mapped our course
For warm Pacific shores
Winter snows brought some anxiety

Would be rough we knew it but
We’d plow our way right through it
Dreaming of the opportunity

Novato, Rohnert Park and then to
Morgan Hill down south
Loved it here we hate to have to roll

Push to shove you forfeit love 
Living hand to mouth but
Leaving leaves within our heart a hole

This time we’ll keep in touch for sure
That’s what we always say
True love’s here our hearts must still entwine

Every new U-Hauler sees
This world a little smaller with
Email, faxing, texting folks online.

Love to gather moss someday like
Other rocks we know but
Moss comes with a price it sure ain’t free.

Far-off places beckon
That’s when Nell and I must go
Life’s too short for stones like us you see
Too short for rolling stones like Nelly and me.

Just another Warrenpiece

Copyright © Warren Dickman | Year Posted 2015

This is the Day

This is the day which the lord hath made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it.
But we rather be sad in it
We rather hate in it
Kill, Steal and Destroy
Boast about our joy
Money, Cars and Cloths
Tell us you got all the hoes
Why do are women want to be hoes
Why we dancing on poles
Men don’t you know women are a key ingredient to our souls
Women don’t you know, your worth more than pure gold
Platinum, Crystals, and Diamonds

This is the day which the lord hath made;
We will rejoice and be glade in it.
That is the only way we are going to save our planet
We have to make our way, because we are here to stay
Hold on to what is right, believing in your rights
Love is the only weapon you need to fight
Because This is the Day where everything change
This is the Day where we are only calling on one name
This is the Day where we all get to see them fancy things
This is the Day where there are no more nightmares and only dreams
This is the Day where you will see greener pastures and blue streams
This is the Day where we all are announced kings and queens
This is the Day Heaven begins to sing

Copyright © Malcolm Brooks | Year Posted 2013

Across the Mediterranean

I watched them took-off for their search for greener pastures
Adventurers with unclosed or unknown destinations
One thing was sure; they were going to cross the Mediterranean 
Their determination overweighed the risk ahead of them
They were so desperate for a better life than their present conditions
Even like armless soldiers at war, they were ready to embark on their journey
These were all disgruntled youths from Africa
Their fingers of anger were all pointed at their leaders and governments

I watched them packed their loads, ready to face the unknown
Their faces proved disappointments from their fatherlands
In their minds, there was no better place than across the Mediterranean
These were jobless graduates from Africa
It was better to die in a strange land than live in a corrupt fatherland
These youths were running away from embezzlement and violation of human rights
But little did they know that all their dreams would be shattered in the Mediterranean Sea

I saw a group of frustrated mothers when the sad news stormed our land
Their dreams for a rich and better life had drowned in the Mediterranean
They cried with accusing fingers pointed at the government
Yet the government showed no compassion for her fallen compatriots
Neither did they express any pity for tears of these poor mothers
How I wished this injustice was rendered to them as well
But there was so little I could do by then

Copyright © Tangwa Livinus Acha | Year Posted 2015

MOTHER-LAND

Childrens of mother land!
Citizens of mother land!
I call upon you my fellow neighbours!
Hear my concern my fellow neighbours!

We heard reports about your Africans around the globe
Citizens of the world yell like monkeys when they see them
They are likened to mandrill and shown bananas
Africa you portrayed yourself as beggars and inept

Africa! Your children are scatted all over
In pursuit of greener pastures
My brothers let us turn Guns into plowshares 
Africa unite to fight against ailments and poverty  

Poverty is claiming lives of your people
AIDS is robbing lives of our brothers and sisters
Crime is stealing our dignity and our pride 
Citizens of the world have a distorted view of us

Why unite only when there is a feast	
Mother land is bigger than world cup
Mother land is bigger than Africa Day
Africa is a home to all who dwell in Africa


How long shall we blaze with anger against each other
How long it will take us to unite as one nation
How long before we combat prejudice
How long before we combat xenophobia

Who are we fighting people?
Who is our enemy?
Blood is not an ink to paint our mother land's portrait
Africa Unite! We are bigger than civil wars

Copyright © Bongani Zungu | Year Posted 2012

MY CURSES

I curse away one head to stabilize the thinking,I curse away the set of eyes that forever fall from the face to set a clear vision.I curse away the spear,the nation builder to educate the ***** controlled youth.i curse away your home and give the country a roof over their heads.

In the name of Hani,Sobukwe,Plaatjie and Biko I  cast away the power hungry demons,I cast away the big tummied devils and I also cast away the raw fish eating kings.In light of peace,love and harmony I pray for justice,sense and sanity.I pray for the end of blood shed,xenophobic attacks and women bashing.

Black against black,white against white,black against white,our sense of sight has been racially removed.A rainbow belongs in the sky,I will continue to carry a gun and shoot everyone who looks different.Dompas memories,Bantu Stans living,Africanism disappearing  I curse away tenderpreneurship.

Big beard,farmer clothing and a monkey hating gun.Game drives on police vans I will drag race with the monkey tied at the back.Blood spilling,dark screams as you touch base with your ancestors.1652,1990,1994 I curse away the Dromedaris.

"Black like me"
Cheeky black statements,arrogant monkeys,I call upon the mirror.
Mirror mirror on the wall prove that blacks are still stupid.
Mirror mirror on the wall hope the trick works again.

Green,Gold and Black
We hope for greener pastures,gold fields to rid poverty but we know black will always darken our futures.

Copyright © Gaopalelwe Nke | Year Posted 2013

Dying World.

Dying world, dying happenings 
Craziness, wickedness, laziness,
Changing greener pastures to adventures 
Of doom.

I behold everything, i don't need to be told,
Nothing can be trusted, nothing is committed
These indeed is death, this is a dying world.

The leaders are not our dreams, depending
On them is nay.
The glory men love so much, fades away 
Like cube of sugar in the tea,
It so happens because glory is meant for the creator,
Who gives water and air.

I behold hope for those who are upright,
For they alone will smile, when others are 
Hopeless, hopelessness brings fearfulness,
There after, something worst than danger.

These things i see,
These things i know,
Indeed the world is dying.

================================
As Carolyn Devonshire would put it, "i fear for the future of the world"

Copyright © Charles Melody Lightning Ink | Year Posted 2010