Best Run Like The Wind Poems
We bound down the stairs, out into the light-of-day, and into the blue of the
misty breezes, heavily laden with the smell of wild sea salt roses that grow in
perfusion along the winding road, that bends and turns in gentle lifts and dips to
the other side of the bay, where it crosses the bridge and rises up and winds
away, over the hill.
Overhead the seagulls screech and glide over the ocean spray that washes on
the rocks on the lower banks behind our house along the Fundy Bay, where we
run like the wind through the fields of fresh cut hay and make our way to the
rocky mantle below .
There in the volcanic plateau, worn smooth as glass by the constant rolling
weight of the ocean, is our pool, known by all in our village, as ‘Lizza’s Bathtub’,
created by the eruption of the earth’s inner core, millennia’s ago.
We slip into the still, salty water that has been warmed beneath the blazing sun,
and float with the perry winkles and tiny crabs and listen to the sound of the
ocean, that roars beneath us as it leaves in the receding tide, while we drift
away, in our minds, my little brother the ‘King’ and I, the ‘Queen’ for a day on
the ‘Fundy Bay’.
I am a Beautiful Girl, living with Autism.
I leap, dance, and spin around circle while I try to make sense of the world around me.
I am a Beautiful Girl,
I sing, I jump, and I run like the wind.
I am a Beautiful Girl,
When the world around me becomes too much I scream, shout, hide, or even bang my head.
I am a Beautiful Girl,
With a beautiful spirit and God made me unique, I am a human being that just wanted to be understood and to be treated with respect.
I am a Beautiful Girl!
I once knew a boy who could imagine
great things. He could run up a mountain,
swim the depths of the sea. He could fly
a jet fighter and then come home for tea.
As life became real his dreams were pushed
further away. Responsibility overtakes dreams
when there are bills you must pay.
I once knew a boy who could turn ice into
flame. He could imagine a world totally free
from all pain. He could visualise worlds by
gazing at stars, see God up in heaven or
meet him on Mars. He knew that the boy
would soon be a man. He accepted that
nature had its well rehearsed plan.
I once knew a boy who could swim with sharks,
live in outer space and drive the fastest of cars.
He could run like the wind, see sun shine in the
dark. He could make enemies friends, feel the
touch of the stars. He could soar like an eagle,
create spaceships with sand, harness the power
of the universe in the palm of his hand.
I once knew a boy and still see him to this day.
As I look in the mirror he stares back in his way.
Though the imagination of childhood seems to
have been buried away, I can see in his eyes it's
still there and there to stay.
Now, you probably won't believe it
So I'm not going to say that it's true
I once met, the famous Forrest Gump
We were just running, both of us two
Beside me on a path in the woods
He said, "I am Forrest, Forrest Gump"
I asked why he was running, he said,
"No particular reason, but jump!"
I jumped over a rock on the path
When I looked up he was around a bend,
Yelling, "Life's like a box of chocolates!"
Would you believe, he can run like the wind!
I struggled to catch up to Forrest,
But gasping, fell down to my knees
Impressed I yelled, "Run Forrest Run!"
But I couldn't see Forrest for the trees!
Not real smart but he loved to run
Through the woods in a minute flat
Gone without even, "Have a nice day"
That's all I have to say about that!
We
bound
down the stairs
and into the light of day
Into the blue
of the misty breezes
where the scent
of sea salt roses lay
and grow in perfusion
along the winding road
that lifts and dips
to the other side
of the Funday Bay
to cross the bridge
and rise again
to run away
over the distant hills-
Seagulls-
screech and glide
high above the ocean spray
that falls in a mist
on the rocks
of the lower banks
behind our house
where-
we run like the wind
through the fields
of fresh cut hay
as we make our way
to the rocky mantle -
There-
on that volcanic plateau
worn smooth as glass
by the rolling waves
we play-
In A pool made
when the centre
of the earth
erupted
millennia ago
There-
in that salty water
warmed by a blazing sun
with crabs
and periwinkles-
our ears filled
with the sound
of the ocean’s drum
as it leaves
with the tide below-
We drift away-
Two little kids-
King and Queen
for a day-
In our kingdom
By the Bay
Author: Elaine George
Where I live
The land slopes downward
Towards Merrick Road
Inviting me for a walk.
Stopping at a corner
I hear my name
Turning around
I say hello
To a neighbor
We exchange pleasantries
No need to say anymore
And I continue on my way.
My wife and I have roots here
Passing my daughter’s school
I remember that July
When fathers,
Tradesman
And office workers alike,
Toiled under a hot sun
Working together
To build a playground.
Near the park
I coached my son’s soccer team
Families came to watch
Their children run like the wind
Memory tells me
It was a good season.
On nearby streets
I helped neighbors
With routine chores
Lifting and pushing the unmovable
Shiny things for a kitchen
Or for the room upstairs
Odds and ends
We call possessions
My wife worked close by
To be home
When our children
Stepped off the school bus
Our house ran under
Her watchful eye
A job never done.
In return we are known here
And I take every opportunity
To walk through a quiet town
As early evening
Descends
On everyone and everything.
Run like the wind.
On a windy Sunday.
Run like the wind.
As fast as you can.
Don't run for the silver.
It's not your favorite.
Run for the gold.
'Cause you're here to stay..
You've got the power,
and you've got the glory.
You've got the power,
to run this way..
So run like the wind.
On a windy Sunday.
Run like the wind.
On a windy day..
'Cause you've got the power,
and you've got the glory.
You've got the power,
to run this way..
So run like the wind.
On a windy Sunday.
Run like the wind.
As fast as you can..
Windy Sunday Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1988,2015..ALL rights reserved..
Small Towns Revisited
by Edmund Siejka
We Long Islanders
Live near a large City
Of
Tall buildings
High end stores
Apartments with gated windows
A place where people live like strangers.
Here, where we live
The land slopes downward
Towards Merrick Road
Inviting us for a walk
Along the way
It’s just like a neighbor
To call our name
We say hello
And exchange pleasantries
There is no need to say anymore.
Our families have roots here
Passing our local school
We recall that July
When fathers,
Tradesman
And office workers alike,
Volunteered
To help build a playground.
Wives worked nearby
To be home
When children
Stepped off school buses
Homes managed under their careful eye.
Near a park
Our sons and daughters played soccer
Families came to watch
Their children run like the wind
Memory tells me
It was a good season.
On nearby streets
We helped neighbors
With routine chores
Lifting and pushing the unmovable
Shiny things for a kitchen
Or something for the upstairs room
Odds and ends
We call possessions.
In return we are known here
And we take every opportunity
To walk through a quiet town
As early evening
Peacefully descends
On everyone and everything.
Peering through portals of time
On gossamer wings
Just past 89
Cherished moments
Crystal bottles
Blue Haze
Memories never fade
Seems like only yesterday
Small tyke I was
Could run like the wind
Running so fast so free
Barely touching the ground
I was on
Feeling sure so secure
Wished it Could've
Lasted forever
Oh those wondrous years
Away and away
Nighty night time travelers
Good night sweetheart
Clocks unravel
Churchbell chimes
The sign of the times
Clocks winding down
Tick tock tick tock
Seconds to minutes
Tick tock tick tock
Hours to day
Day by day
Ebbing nights
Years shine ahead
Echoing our lives
And
Going through time
On gossamer wings....
All rights reserved
A.camacho jr.
1996-2015
I'm sure you're aware of the term, “touch and go”
The phrase “touch and run”, is more dangerous you know
If you value your skin
Better run like the wind
An uninvited feely is frowned on, dear soul
© Jack Ellison 2015
My friend is known for a horsey type grin
Along with his whinny, he can run like the wind
Through fields of clover
Don't mind his odour
Just hold onto your schnoz and try not to wince
Plaster the walls with mud.
Shake the heavens of the blood.
Bitter tasting and sourly sweet.
Were the feelings that sat at my feet.
Black curtains of faces so torn.
Worrying seems so forlorn.
Tear the tears and tear the tears.
For this is no life to live in fear.
Fear the fairs and fair as to the fears.
Knock down the wall of misery,
And build a bridge to destiny.
Fickle fate brought a tickle too late.
Draw a line to the other side.
Wait for the shadows and soon they will hide.
Pick up the pieces of hints that will be given.
Guiding the wind from sin and all will be forgiven.
Reluctant of hearts too giving.
Seeing the messages of happiness to take.
Pleasers beware and takers dont dare.
Hands and mouths always be there.
Yes to all the answers and no to all the chancers.
Take this sign from fate so true.
Run like the wind and take what was given to you.
By Cami Hostetler
How many friendly faces do I see in my chambers of recollection as I call up retrospect,
Cherished scenes rush to mind as its pinions bear me to the times which won't ever return,
Scenes now changed and altered like visions in the deepest of dreams so deep you're there,
Scenes of flower filled fields accessed only by hedge rowed old lanes that no longer exist.
The old lanes where flowers breathed fragrances high into a blue watery sky of days gone by,
That changed into streets and main roads with the noise they bring as we rush through life,
Once these fields had cows and sheep on the slopes and valley's rang with the animals bells,
I once picked bluebells, picked blackberries, picked hazelnuts, with sunbeams for company.
To run like the wind chasing butterflies gently catching them and blowing them off my hands,
How uninterrupted the tides of unhappiness that ripples in the deep recesses of my old mind,
The unclouded days that bathed me in sunshine that cast its brightness across the landscape,
How brilliant the fairy scenes that floats from the canvases out of the caverns of the past.
My sorrow was deep in picture postcard days, days were sweet and long, but my heart swells,
There was no blind grasp of faith, realization began to attend its researches, observations,
A sorrow that has stood the test of time, a bitter sorrow that broke me then as it does now,
Beautiful sorrow, as beautiful as an illustration, as lovely as a flower, as beautiful as an angel.
let me slip away into sleep now
let me open my dreamers eyes in restless slumber
slip away to a dream of summer long ago
to walk the paths that only boyhood knew
to be once more the manchild beholding
all the world within my grasp
all the mysteries to be conquered
to be the hero for all the world to see
this sleeping world gives glimpses of itself as i awaken
the steps of roosevelt school
footsteps echoing on the ornate marble
laughing clear and clean
without worry or taint
let me slip away into sleep once more
let me fly among the stars
in wonderful adventure
let me run like the wind
free once more
free
Sure you've heard the term, “touch and go”
The phrase “touch and run”, is safer you know
If you value your skin
Better run like the wind
An uninvited feely is frowned on, dear soul