Best Imaginationlonging Poems
Before I Die I Want….
Deep inside of me things have begun to stir. My hopes and dreams are mixing with
my needs and desires. As feelings come to the surface suddenly my mind and body
are taking on a life it seems all their own. Never before has such a sensation to fulfill
what was once hidden demanded to be made known. Now all that lies beneath
waiting, longing to come alive bubbled forth.
It feels as though an unexpected force has entered my entire being pulling me,
urging me on. Somewhere out there time and chance is going to come for me. Life is
all too short at times so what do I do with what stirs right beneath the surface? Risk
it all before I die for what I want!
I set my hope and dreams to the wind to carry forth. My wants and desires followed
close behind. They whistled through the trees and brushed the mountain tops. The
ocean waves carried them far away to places my eyes have never seen. The desert
floor was sprinkled softly with each and everyone I whispered. The stars in the sky
lit up with my secrets and scattered them near and far.
Now somehow they have been found out and are coming alive. I can feel it inside of
me as now the demand to be filled has been sensed and demands to be satisfied. I
spoke of hidden things only to have them set free. Dreams are private until spoken
into the wind. Desire carries a scent that can’t go without stirring needs you
whisper and only hope to fill.
Before I die the things I whispered into the wind may come to be. I knew the risk of
the whisper and that perhaps time and chance would take my secrets. These things
have taken root and began to grow so strongly that not even I know if the risk of
hopes, dreams, needs and desires will be fulfilled before I die.
Debbie Knapp
I lay down in the darkness...you're there
The first thing on my mind..all is still
And I feel stifled by the midnight air
Not knowing when or if you ever will
Acknowledge that there's something burning here
Yes, I think it could stand the test of time
But, I'm impatient and hate to wait...I wonder why you fear;
And put me off...To me it seems a crime;
To waste our moments..when passion could fill our days.
Love is clearly offering us wings...
Can't you see the longing in my eyes?
So fly with me...come fly, my soul screams
I close my eyes, for now...we'll only fly in my dreams.
There was a naughty boy,
A naughty boy was he,
He did not play with any toy
And always climbed a tree
And thought to see
The world
'Yon the green sea
He hurled
Himself to think
To dream
Of bears and mink
And stream
That grows
Daffodils
And flows
And flow
down
curvy hills.
There was a naughty boy,
A naughty boy was he,
He had no employ
His parents could see
Except to write
From morn
To starlit night
'Bout the corn
And mealy mouth
Worm, the thorn
And thunder's shout
For nature
Was his school
His rapture
And his fool
And so away
From friends
he went
On clouds
that play
O'er distant
continent.
There was a naughty boy,
A naughty boy was he,
Apart from all he had such a joy
Such longing to be free
And did not know
Did not
Understand
The rot
That made them call
Him naughty
O not at all.
For a book
He was sure
Was not a cook
That fed him food
To make him sore
And he
By reading
Was ever pure
No act that's sinning
No bore
Of argument
But yards
of contentment
In forest
Or sandy
shore.
,
He could
the jester said
that the yellow suns
were better than the green
suns
and the green suns were worse than
the pink ones
all the same the jester said
volumes
happy to fail in the dressing
room
mirror
before the king
and the hangman’s noose
never
under the green suns
before eclipse
watching the pink
suns
to begin and to end
but longing for yellow
suns
and the shadows
they cast
before the king
and the hangman’s noose
never
happy to tumble
juggle
and sing
straining for yellow
suns
and the shadows they
cast
violently searching
for the minstrel to play
the songs of royal
liking
and the attitude
of dress
to acquaint the court
with the mystery of green suns
over taking the yellow
before the king
and the hangman’s noose
never
straining for yellow
suns
and the shadows they
cast
The rain's pitter patter
Asks me what is the matter?
What is it I see in your eyes?
Longing,loss or surprise.
Is it longing for what is not?
Or loss for what it was?
Or is it what it is that
Has you unawares caught?
Looking and longing from the rock tower
Sun is rising on cloudy skies
Casting light on the last of night
When will my lover arrive on his white steed
Been gone for over a day
Longing for his tender kiss and caress
In this land where the loch ness
Roams the cold waterway