Canyons Poems - Poems about Canyons

I long to lead you to the psychosis of your existence; toward the ill repute of your identity, something amiss reaches for meaning. I would rather wish you gone before too much is said. I would rather wish you gone before too much is said. I long to lead you to the thorny wire crawling around my limbs, or...

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The canyons dim, the canyons dark, fast river churning at its heart; the canyons sheer, the canyons steep, trees cling to walls, ready to leap; the canyons tall, the canyons wife, voice echoes on the other side; the canyons long, the canyons rough, running those rapids would be tough; the canyons air, the canyons breeze, condors upon the thermals seize; the canyons rim, the canyons...

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Canyons By David J Walker I'd like to see inside myself I know there are canyons Gone unwandered It makes me feel a very far-off thought That begins on a distant shore I’d like to know Where to begin But the beginning is in the past I wonder if a time will come When I’ll See inside myself At last...

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Lost in dyslexic canyons David J Walker Washed in the flight Of a red-ish glaze The neurons bathe in Their own light Sometimes unable to translate The sights and Sometimes the sounds That surround the visions of What could be It’s how I see the world From my view Lost in dyslexic canyons...

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In the thick of the night When I’m awake and can’t sleep With shot of whiskey I read something light Into western lands I creep Traveling shadow canyons deep...

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Oh how sweet warmth would gently fade cast shadows on the games we played. Dusk's chatter-patter playing hide and seek under streetlight curfew lamps unspoken call to home. Wild laughter of the “last tag” challenge beneath soft yellow-windowed eyes days dirt relinquished begrudgingly precursor of soft goodnight sighs. Darkness closing in sleep blanketing life’s moments eyes pursuing dreams. Chasing childhood's Holy Grail through the canyons of slumber. ©4/20/2018 submitted to...

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Canyons Of Clouds Canyonous clouds seen from above Plane, sky, and occupants, bank left Dip beneath the giant pillars going down Jet pulls up right, on the wing In the dance of flight Swaying this way and that Nature calibrates maneuvers on the descent Through rain it hides in mist In whispers it glides in peace Columns of calm hang there in white majesty Waiting...

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Some love stories make you ponder how you got this far. Others make you want to wander guided by a star. Roll on thunder, roll on night never let me sleep. That's an over-rated right and I've no soul to keep. Loved too easily it seems- my heart kept beating faster. Through the canyons of my dreams was led into disaster. Dismal breakage everywhere as I became undone. Just...

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Two cowboys hungry and exhausted weren't ready to challenge the canyons ahead; one complained, " We need water! " The other yelled, " We must be vigilant and alert, we need sleep! " Indians are treacherous and wild! " They wait for us towards sunset! " " I agree," The one with ginger hair streaked with some...

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Deep ravines of the land mirror the deep ravines inside us all Canyons where the remnants of past ages can be seen They have left their mark in stone Another age Another time When things were vastly different then they are today Readers of this poem Remember ...

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White is the color of the majestic canyons, the river still flows as snow sparkles on rocky bends... profound silence extends far....

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She dwells in deep canyons cold and dark To ponder a mystery that haunts her soul Which leaves confusion and doubts in heart The loss of confidence now takes its toll To ponder a mystery that haunts her soul Which renders sleepless hours through the night The loss of confidence now takes its toll A flower slowly dying withers in sunlight It renders...

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Harvested farm land Deserticolous canyons Valleys deeply sway...

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In canyons of glass and steel, the peregrine is hunting. Her wildlands have vanished and her forests are gone. But what is it to her if her prey runs toward trees or cliffs… or if it flees through canyons of glass and steel. Is it any easier to feed her child on the asphalt plains? Is her hunting cry any less fearsome if it is heard in a city’s...

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