Best Spread My Wings Poems
I'm just getting started to face this new adventure
To roll through the changes, release my fears to the wind
Also, to conquer something inside fighting my body
As it would like to be my enemy, so I must be a friend
I will gather all my strength to rise above these challenges
I will spread my wings to fly free, as I soar the open skies
I will land where I choose and take in every beautiful view
One by one, healing me to the end of colorful rainbows
I will find love in a pot of gold waiting and then I will speak
The words meant to be heard from my journey of survival
My soul will open like a rose with thorns to protect me
Blooming to the fullest of a life thriving from true faith
Fulfilled by a purpose that is mine, meant to reach others
Then, I will sing and I will say once again, thank you God!
Heidi Sands
9/22/19
In the nighttime hours
As the world deftly creeps by
I summon my powers
Spread my wings and fly
Past cotton clouds,
Snow-capped mountains, white
I am lost and I am found
I am beauty and blight
Past the midnight chimes
A soul searching for home
Tangling myself in rhymes
So as to not feel alone
Catch the updraft of hope
Friendship sun on my face
My place in this world in scope
Loathing, with love replace
I THINK THEREFORE I AM
"An ounce of hypocrisy is worth
a pound of ambition" --Michael Korda
Liberty...
This everyone's want--
stretching an autonomy to unbuckle self-discovery
I got mites and bugs living in my head--
infesting my mind. They... daring a chance
to worm my guts and electrify my peace.
They adulterate seeking ways to emerge
from claws of doubts to grains of trust.
My veil of grace they bite and bite
devouring me 'til I set to pursue my act.
Should I repulse...
then spread my wings to fly?
or should I be a little puppet--
controlled, slave to strings attached to me?
or I'd rather choose a mask--
my gamble to earn sympathy or popularity;
my weapon sheltering my luck;
my fall or my win?
Cogito ergo sum.
I think, therefore I am.
The mites and bugs in my skull blown
from shocks infused by my firing drive.
My cavalry of Modesty, brave to rise
face the furnace of battlegrounds.
Insincerity. Malingering. Pretension
are artillaries luring hypocrisy
but love, honesty and bravery:
the bombs I defy to conquer the trades.
If God is with me, who can be against me?
Standing like a Molave
rooted evergreen, ever strong.
My face bulletproof
to those who I believe wrong.
A standing soldier ready to offer her life
to fraud and tyranny.
I refuse to be fed on standing lies.
The harpoons of verity, I battling dart,
raining towards the barbaric boxes as they...
They are my lioness roar, my freedom and my soar
piercing the pumping heart of those who eat innocence,
I... dauntless!
_________________________________________________
** I think therefore I am is said by Rene Descartes
Romans 8:31-- If God is with us, who can be against us?
O. E. Guillermo
10:43 pm, April 18, 2015
I am here but only briefly,
a believer in today, tomorrow
and ever after. I am a blustery wind
shaking the foundation and a gentle
breeze rustling the leaves.
I am an observer of the beautiful,
graceful, awkward and absurd,
feeling like a spy amongst
voices and visions, kinetic energy,
filling the spaces between footsteps
and the void between us.
I am an over thinker, one woman,
always wondering, waiting
for the rain on a sunny day.
I often remind myself:
I am not the center of this world or any other.
Still, I must find my place even when
circumstances change. I do not like change.
Like a sturdy oak, I am rooted and earthy,
but sometimes…I want to spread my wings
and land on a rugged mountaintop.
I am a rock star yearning to ramble
from city to city, finding solace
in a sea of faces. Oh, to just get lost in the
music and crowds would be sublime!
I am passionate on the inside,
reserved on the outside –
complex in all my contradictions -
a broken child with shattered dreams
yet I still find hope in each sunrise and
peace with each sunset.
I am always searching for more time,
just one stolen moment to take a deep breath.
I am forgiving and want to be forgiven.
I am a nurturing mother.
My sons are my reason to get out of bed
when I’d rather hideaway.
My sons are my joy (both scream
for me right now).
I am a juggler, trying to keep
all my balls in the air, and also
absentminded for obvious reasons.
I am a woman who loves to be loved –
complex in all my contradictions.
I am not that different than you.
We all just want to feel connected.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders for Frank Herrera’s I Am Contest, 11/5/14
To Look Upon His Face
Nativity of Jesus
Oh! Starry twilight this December night
Guiding light glows so up high
Moonlit shadows slow dance
Shooting stars flashing close by
Angel's sweet melody echoes flow
With the embracing of heaven
Human beings, wildlife, and nature bow down
Paying homage to our God's son
Sparkling eyes and glowing heart
Spirit enthusiasm precedes me to look
For a brief moment upon His face
Heavenly virtue weeping tears overtook
To want to lift Him up and hold in my arms
My humbleness to submit to Him
And seek his grace and favor
Spread my wings and sing a Cherub hymn
Oh! Starry twilight this December night
Guiding light glows so up high
Moonlit shadows slow dance
Shooting stars flashing close by
Angel's sweet melody echoes flow
With the embracing of heaven
Human beings, wildlife, and nature bow down
Paying homage to our God's son
11/21/2015
I keep a box of memories
it’s safely tucked away
but now and then and then again
I bring it out to play
a marble here a matchbook there
and pictures one or two
of things I’ve done and wars I’ve won
and yes there's one of you
my father’s broken pocket watch
my mother’s broken dreams
my sons first tooth, a letter home
and empty space it seems
oh yes sweetheart I see them now
the feathers gold and blue
I marked them with the day and date
of nineteen ninety two
and here's the twigs I kept for you
from your father's nest
and tufts of down to comfort you
from your mother's breast
and yes sweetheart I understand
I dearly love you too
and if I could I’d spread my wings
and fly away with you
The Perfect Story
Ingredients.... My Epic Melody!
I spread my wings,
To carry you into that perfect ride.
Allowing you to communicate with my mind.
I'll show you what my perfect story would have in it.
With the world's enigma not everyone can find.
Words twisted with reality and beauty divine
The majestic ways to live with fairy tales combined.
Show no weakness towards the mercy of my gift.
Unleash the lightning, leaving all competition behind.
Pierce every word with my gleaming eyes.
You'll find yourself in the ebony of the blind.
A space passing every constellation with no regrets of return.
Assault the moment of the mind with the perfect line..
Expect pain, love, death, and desires that burn.
A trap for the follower to sink in.
Losing yourself to the evil garden underneath the green fern.
Falling in love with the mental link of my imagination.
Rising from the ashes that killed every demon in my nations.
Rescued by the light of he who rode the wind of fate.
Breaking an oath to give every perfect story a-
"HAPPY ENDING!"
~SKAT~
Why wouldn’t you cut me loose from the strings that bind us
You had left me dangling from a marriage that once united us together
The bonds were broken - you had forsaken our love, not once but so many many times
For over a year now you have been seeing her
I could never understand why you wouldn’t set me free and let me spread my wings and fly
I‘d have the chance to find someone who would be faithful and love me – ONLY me
Yet you still chose to wear my ring upon your finger
You wanted to have your cake and to eat it too
Whilst I was suspended like a puppet floundering in mid air
At first I thought it was all about saving face - playing happy families
You didn’t want your parents to see YOU as a failure
It was always me who visited them every week
Running errands and taking them on days out with the grandchildren
You simply paid your parents lip service and rang them saying you are working away, when in reality was you really were with her
But now I have discovered the truth why you won’t let me go - your father let it slip one day when I saw him.
It was his birthday and you’d asked me to take him a bottle of his favourite whiskey - this was your downfall - you know how he likes to talk when he’s had a drop
For now I have discovered the truth the REAL reason why you wouldn’t set me free.
It’s all to do with money – the clause from your uncle’s will. You were his favourite nephew and I could never understand why you didn’t inherit when he died
Now I know the answer - we needed to remain married for fifteen years then and only then would you receive your million-dollar legacy
Ever since your father revealed the truth about the inheritance I have had a private detective trail the two of you – dates, times, photographs I have all the evidence I needed.
The private detective I hired – oh he was delighted to take on the case - you see SHE is his soon to be ex-wife
Well sugar I’m filing for divorce. Don’t bother contesting it. It will be finalised on our 14th Wedding Anniversary.
I’m no longer your puppet, the strings that tied us are finally going to be cut.
Contest:Puppets Sponsor John Lawless
12~25~14
Lyrics are timed to music
Out there - a distant shore
I’ve seen your face before
It’s De’ja`vu with thoughts of you
Then feelings of a loss, come tomorrow
Sometime - another place
I’ve seen - your smiling face
It’s De’ja'vu of thoughts I knew
Love is meant to be, not the sorrow
I searched, beyond the stars
I looked beneath the moon
I know JUST KNOW - without a DOUBT
My heart - will show me soon
Oh way out there - a distant land
That’s where - my love began
Now De’ja'vu fills thoughts anew
So happy again - come tomorrow
So far, beyond that star
We’ll kiss far beneath the moon
I know, without a DOUBT
My heart will show me where soon
I’m sure, with wings I’ll soar
With love, I knew before
I’ll spread my wings I’ll learn to fly
And never ever again - be broken hearted
Oh we can fly with wings on high
Then never ever again, we’ll be parted
Synopsis of total De’ja’vu play that these lyrics were composed for:
The lives of two lovers was torn apart way back in the 14th century when she was banished. The interference could have caused a Pattern shift of Destiny in the Loom of Time. Could a certain couple be the same star crossed lovers that have searched for each other through many lifetimes over the centuries?
A wise mystical character from the bygone era is a keen observer and blames himself for not intervening. He also wonders that since the Earth is the cradle of humanity, would humans have progressed past the cradle in this day and age.
Foot note:
Ron and I love musical theater. After seeing a disappointing play, he rose to my challenge in regard to the comment he made that he could have written better. The result was De’ja’vu, a Romantic Musical.
I wrote the lyrics in collaboration with him, but due to the enormous staging costs the music was never written and we abandoned the project.
The lyrics for this piece have been tweaked to ‘La mer’, also known as ‘Beyond the Sea’ and one of my Dad’s favorite songs. (Wish he was here, he would have composed the music)
Sorry folks, if and when we find suitable music to the lyrics of the Grand Finale, I’ll post it
Flying High
I yearn to spread my wings and fly,
a fearless eagle soaring high.
To be free like the wind and sing,
finding beauty in everything.
Like white clouds, I seek the blue sky!
The form is Spanish Quintain or Quintilla: Rhyme scheme: a, a, b, b, a
Iambic Tetrameter 8 syllables per line
Eagle flying high, just a dot in the sky
I fly in to join you and circle with you
together we take delight in plummeting down
then climbing back up to float on thermals
The landscape below shows trees the size of matches
individual flowers too small to see just splashes
of many different hues blending into each other
the steady wind ruffles my feathers as I tease you
Playing and courting we bond once more
and set about setting our eyrie to rights
high up on the steep jagged cliff top
any danger spotted miles away from this vantage point
I take turns with you sitting on our eggs
then off to hunt I soar searching for my prey
there down there a fat young rabbit grazes
I swoop down and now dinner daintily I eat
Replete I retire to the tree tops
and spread my wings basking in the sun
life is good so very good
soon the cycle restarts with my chicks
written 01/23/2013
WHERE FROZEN EMBERS STILL BURN
When will periwinkle dreams entwine with my lifesong?
deadly winter has blanket me? [Long, ah! so long...]
Has bloody ferns swirl then froze me as falling snow
for acrid critiques cold cloud? [T'was wrong, Oh so wrong...]
Doubts and worries weaken my weary feet
but teeming catalysts from a compassionate God
activate talent embers, once frozen to heat--
telling: "TRUST, GO AND START!", an alarm from above.
Bearing a faith anew, I spread my wings to fly;
walking even over blitz agonizing talk for ply.
Cracking myself from iceberg of fears--
twining myself to God's glory, a clear dear!
Braiding faith and hardwork in cornerstone steel,
spirits shoot hope that guards, a powerful feel.
Unfolding gifts from long frozen hearts to burn,
now mightily restored with heaven's love way turn...
(c)
10:16am
August 22, 2014
From our youth, we have been taught that beauty is only skin deep;
and “It’s in the eyes of the beholder”, is what we like to teach.
Many a head has been turned, and our hearts have taken a leap.
It was breathtaking, as our captured hearts skipped a beat.
I absolutely understand this, and I do tend to agree.
Many were the working hours of driving through the marsh mellow wetlands.
I paused but could not stall as I took in the blessings of beauty in the Fall.
So pleasing and peacefully, the feathered fowls played, rested, and feasted.
So honored and privileged was I just to watch and breathe with the birds.
I have witnessed the carefree and feathered beauty of butterflies flying by.
Such artistic mixtures of colors often arrest and capture even this stoic guy.
And I’m reminded that such beauty was earned in a cocoon, and not given.
It was born out of strength and patience, and not made-up quickies.
Time was crucial, and the work was hard, as the moth long endured.
The butterfly has taught me that beauty develops in stages and unfolds over time. I must continue to learn to wait and dutifully labor through the hard times. Millions of the Monarch Butterflies spend their winters in Central Mexico. Come Spring, may I too, like butterflies, spread my wings and take flight.
12052015PS Contest: For Men Only( Would You, Could You) Write About Butterflies. 2nd contest entry 6/29/20, Butterflies And Marshes Mellow,
Kai Michael Neumann
With the onset of years
erstwhile crazy ideas
abandoned with caution and dread
now crowd my mind
no peace I will find
till my conscience lies neatly in shreds
Conscience, out the way
there's hell to pay
for too long I've toed the line
Ms Goody Two-Shoes
who never once boozed
longs to taste the fruit of the vine
Since exiting the womb
no breathing room
another's cousin, sister or daughter
later in life
mother and wife
now breaking free to taste the sweet water
Once meek and restrained
willingly chained
missed out on the pleasures of life
no fun to be had
not a chance at being bad
as a dutiful mother and wife
Inch by sure inch
my conscience I'll lynch
spread my wings which were hitherto clipped
down with taboos
I'll expose my tattoos
and enjoy my first skinny dip
I dream of a match
to telly dispatched
on the streak my clothes I'll abort
displaying my tattoos
and unmentionables too
and a full frontal view before caught
No doubt you'd agree
my earlier poetry
has a somewhat conservative ring
conscience, step aside
you've my freedom denied
readers, prepare for smut on a string
Though passionately aflame
this steri-clean dame
aims in the heart zone to practice due care
though my conscience'll be dead
of all life been bled
I'll draw the line at illicit affairs
(Re Old Poems)
A gaggle of girls lounging in the sun,
In the green grass many pairs of legs, stretched out
clad in their blue jeans.
My old pair, many memories...
In them I dug into the garden soil,
planting my spring flowers; my jeans grubby.
A girl gamboling in the rain,
water soaking into her and every pore of fibre
of her blue, old jeans.
Many moons ago, my jeans
touching his knees;
they remember the feel of his bare hands,
as he smoothly traced the lines of those blue jeans.
The hems got frayed, threads hung loose...
They'd seen better days, blotches of old paint,
colors that stayed.
Spent many autumns, growing old with me
My rough old jeans.
I looked far, into the dipping sky,
The soaring waves, breaking into foam,
Turn to the grey hills, as I spread my wings,
braving my last journey,
for the bird to be finally home.
..
Written for nette's contest 'Blue Jeans'