Best Strayed Poems
I never wanted there to be pain for either of us, I only wanted happiness for the rest of our days, but I understand why we couldn’t be together then, I just had so much more to say
I wanted to love you for the rest of your life and give you all of me, but time just wasn’t on our side and sadly that was the way that it had to be
I wished you happiness even though it couldn’t be with me, and I truly hope that you have found it and there is no more misery
You deserve everything that you want in this life and more, I hope that you know what a beautiful person that you are, the one that you showed me before
You changed me, and I hope that I changed you as well, you were the best thing that ever came my way, and a secret that I could never tell
I want you to know I still think of you, not a day goes by that you’re not there, and although we’re not together now, for you I will always care
No one has ever touched me so deeply in the way that you did back then, you turned my world around, but at the same time you made it spin
So, I just wanted you to know the truth after all these years, that you were the one who healed me and showed me love, and took away my tears
You gave me happiness, something that I had all but given up on having in my life, and remembering you breaks my heart a little still, but I love knowing that you’re the reason why.
We gather in groups
many to be sequestered as
strayed sheep
Haunted and shunned
by the societies we love
Who can we turn to
to ease the burning pain
of neglect and asylum
Who is our border collie
the light to wrestle us in
against the turmoil of everyday life
But still we stay strong
as it is human nature to endure
and lift ourselves above the suffering
So even though we strayed
we still love and have matured
to rise above the darkness that prevails
The touch of imperfectionality on some naked truth.
It burns deep into the flesh of happiness,
Yet stands smiling at the laxity of frailty.
A drop of legality would have seared the ice.
Some degree of excess consciousness couldn't avail indiscretion.
So selfish I was, struck the baton to revealing.
Tore down the garment of wonderfulness.
If only it had wrath a shield against grievous consequences.
Strayed from the bareness of my palms, my cherished secret.
Caved in the passing-by of history, are acts and actions I adore.
Regrets bid me awareness but I annex consolation in satisfaction.
Springs of flowing emotions seals my loosed heart.
I'm hung to the persistence of negativity.
Sunk into contentions so absurd to gamble worth for kinds.
Cliff hanger story -
Freshly shorn scrawny
Steady assembly ruptured
Atop rocky bluff rugged
Shivering survival questionable
Seceder’s dream quenchable
Reject herd abide proffer
Select solo sailor prosper
Convention no obstacle
Escape is ewe’s oracle
Exit existence normal
Explore expanse nautical
Divorce merged marriage
Discover ocean massive
Ewe Turn deviate, lucid
Longs for longitude lurid
Leave safety of kennel
Wayward walking karakul
Stripped of her heavy jacket
Staggers down slope jagged
Ceases to be clone imitated
Intrepid sheep not intimidated
Sea spray hasten
Shelly cove haven
Upgrading basic graze
Horizon holds her gaze
Distance from flock’s faith
Determined for further fate
Declines enclosure
Entertains exposure
Among cluster, deficient
Embankment descending delinquent
Evicts herself of contest
Evolves self fulfilled conquest
Disdain for the brethren
Useless Ewe blended in
Refuses group apprehend
Triumphant Turn ascends
Written for Contest:
Strayed Sheep
Sponsor: Di11y Da11y
17th December 2024
Picture inspiration required:
Our English Coasts
by William Holman Hunt
I am the unseen,
resting amongst invisible butterflies,
waning amidst wildflower wishes~
facing watercolor breezes,
drifting between the sun and the sea,
where the wind collaborates
with the salt and skin of waves,
like forbidden lovers engrossed in euphoric zest…
I sing in silence with sanctified verses,
where zephyrs breathe
amongst paralyzed procrastinators,
following a flock of clichés,
amidst the slippery slope of rocky edges,
veiling ripples of rusted rings~
that ache to caress the blushing softness
of crawling clouds in the musky air,
as gilded blades of evergreen greed
feed the fleece of fragility with emptiness,
in the landscape of loneliness~
influencing the clueless
to please the blind stones of bitter lies,
like chameleons of ephemeral mist,
caught in coated curls of jealousy.
Let me be the heartbeat
guiding the rising rays of lustrous gold.
I am both the strayed and the shepherd,
crafting a vessel of virtue~
with floating grace beneath Noah’s Ark,
to steer the spirit of sleepless sheep,
placing trust in ticking terrains…
for I see beyond the silken sins,
that lured you to the fickleness of flora,
while oblivious to the crestfallen thorns,
intoxicating your conscience,
stealing the light of sun-stroked innocence…
They wander,
free range sheep,
Following a breeze,
a wafting scent
Clover…perhaps
More likely the innate call
To roam
In search of themselves.
Freedom,
a dubious destination
As jagged cliffs
O’erlook the crushing surf
Escape
An unknown dream
For wind and tide
And nature
Call them
Home.
Along the roads of grassy fields
where thousands of sheep flit from
Astray from the flock, flouting,
fleeing with fear
blindly following.
Driven through the streets of London
at the Barnet fair to the farmers there.
But the way, takes an insalubrious plot.
Sheer confusion along the countryside
sets in on the herd, then stray
when eddying rapids currented by the tide
and force of the streams give, taken
to an endless frequent float
for great distances steered, stirred
while the timorous turn 'round.
An endeavor to gain the place they set off
As along ancient grassy drove road lies,
weary shepherd and his sheepdog.
Drovers, some on the hoof
The sheep shall stray
back to stay presently in Eden's garden
Jade-green grassy hills of harvest gold,
and cerulean skies.
I see the sea.
The odds at sea,
Sound’s Greek to me.
As the channel frees
a shepherd abandons
his flock shone a barren
headland aloof promised land
were wild vegetation
grows thick as wool.
Color blindness tame
the wolves, convince
the sheep transcend
and stay for a while.
There will be peace
up on the headlands
now and up till ...
"Big Ben renamed: Eiffel Two
Decadence at Windsor Palace
Wolves in sheep wool
Decadent Palace of Versailles
Sheep in wolf's fur."
~~~IDYLLIC: Rumours Of Wars~~~
Walk on by as I sit upon a ledge of self-destruction.
I seek no sympathy, just a hand to hold and to pull me from the edge.
I am deserving Aren't I?
Those so-called words they forcefully allege
Stepping forward by myself
Never will I follow the leader, But this I will instead,
Lead my own path that's right for me
A life lived astray I pledge
Stressed out of the monuments of inclination.
The strokes of desire, her urge sought to relish.
Starved dim in all embodiment of mortality.
The line drawn f discipline was faded in tincture.
A yearning passion fr lechery in negativity.
As she basked off morality for selfishness,
such consciousness of a groom was swept in miles.
Misconduct in unfaithfulness defying fidelity.
Selfish interest baked on the iced soul of man.
She had strayed off the doctrines of perfidiousness.
Wandered the streets of sin to venture into more sins.
She has tied on a cloak of secrecy for a better forth.
Bought her silence with thoughts of happiness,
Denying her soul ta free conscience for the best.
The scene of cliff, coast and a flock of sheep,
a view of the blue ocean, sky, and wild mossy cliff;
where sheep have strayed, too bewildered to leap,
they stand, sleep, or sit among wildflowers and sniff.
It was a case of follow the other perhaps in the rain,
the painting by the artist is so gorgeous and vivid;
now, for some sheep strength has begun to wane,
others bleep, bleep for help quite distressed and livid.
Though they create a lovely view they are defenceless,
they don't need a cliff but need a lush meadow green;
oh, why did they wander so far, it is senseless ?
Yes, true the artist captured a colourful, detailed scene.
As fear deepens in them the sheep groups are tightened;
for me the painting is layers of color and of sheep frightened.
Reigning in cluster the edge of steep scarp,
the flock of mine sprawls so very proud.
I’m a meek loner in the midst of them all,
for each one is happy to be in the crowd.
As I’m secluded in a ditch of sequestration,
the kinship camaraderie they show with flair.
For my innate nature I’m often jeered,
since their line of subservience I don’t tow.
In their group I’m the strayed one,
my own person, I’m the odd one.
I’m branded as an aberrant madcap,
for in my candid way I’m like none of them.
Life for me isn’t shaped for fitting in,
it’s about standing outside the heap.
In my clan a black sheep I’ve been,
making the deviant otherness unique.
Where is the shepherd
Who left behind his livestock
At the Lover's Seat?
The hired hand sleeps
Inattentive to the flock
The sheep go their way
They are unaware
There is danger near the cliffs
Though the grass is sweet
Where is the Shepherd
Will he retrieve his people
From the Sinner's Seat?
One of their own had wandered far;
the others know it strayed away.
From the high cliff, they stare and wait
for the lone sheep that went astray.
Yet there below, alone, he roams
perhaps a longing to be free;
find newer roads for a better life
upon the path along the sea.
Sometimes it's best to leave the road
outlined as stable with the crowd;
to be the one that stands apart-
and travel avenues unplowed.
To travel avenues unplowed
and concentrate on finding one;
become that stubborn lone lost sheep
to pave new paths still left undone.
I am lost
In Microsoft Word
My passion
Lost within
All the technical jargon
I’ve strayed beyond hope
Russell Sivey
Form: Shadorma