Ledges Poems | Examples

Snow

Snow.
The rifts and ledges. 
Flakes just like to flake. 
And eventually stay.

Snow covers cars a bit. 
Then we uncover them. 
We like to pretend that the snow is not melting down our spine, and destroying us. 
Shaking.

Then we shake it off. 
Gloved hands, taking them off. 
If a stranger walked by, he wouldn’t help at all. 
Snow covers my eyelashes a bit too.

Snow. 
Towers over us in our sleep. 
When it’s cold and our car won’t start this morning. 
So it shuts us down. 

Snow.
The snow plow did come through. 
Eventually.
Then it came through the same street once more and it was crazy.  

Then the snow stopped. 
Gloved hands, throwing the gloves to the ground. 
Breaking down because. 
Snow. 

Snow on a Sunday morning. 
Doesn’t feel as bad, crazy, or unbearable. 
I’m shaking, yet I’m on my cozy chair. 
Snow towers in our sleep. 

If it snows overnight?
I might have a problem.

In an eclipse of time

As absorbed in the ember
A scape 
Bill in towers crashing
Ledges shelter
Hatred in angst and ignorance 
The feign of time
A contemplation to end
Resume history 
Well and fear my quill?
Was suffering the necessity?
Time was not 
Only in the morrows mourns
Heft of pen
Empty gadgets 
Science finished
The subject closed

Fide et amore

That Terrible Raging Tempest

I hate tempests, unless I'm cosy in bed.....by poet

The tempest raged around the lighthouse
I was the sentinel of the place, hoping the lights flashed.
Unfortunately, it provided me with very little shelter.

Outside, wild waves pounded the rugged rocks.
Some stinging sleet fell piling up on the ledges,
Penetrating the broken wide wind-broken windows.

Nothing to do but wait till all will be over.
It took some time, and I could not phone my wife.
She would always imagine something bad would take place.
Nothing to do but hope and pray.

Three hours later, I was home and thoroughly drenched.
My bewildered wife looked at me, wondering.
She pushed me under the shower, removed my wet clothes.
Then came warm pyjamas and coffee laced with some alcohol, 
Her hopes had weathered fears, her love complete.


Placed 1

Richard

This time of year I'm fondly 
reminded of Richard the 
old guys playing chess on 
lakeshore drive watching the 
cities shoreline freeze over 
popcorn stands chestnuts 
warms the hands on state 
street the Irish river at a 
stand still as the  
center prepares for the 
giant douglas fir tree hawks 
perch on ledges as the lions 
roars on the steps at the 
du sable museum cornerstone 
outreach paints the faces of 
children parents help out in 
the soup kitchens homeless 
are actually singing Christmas 
Carols as Richard wearing 
a plaid scarf approaches 
Merry Christmas 
Chicago and to all a good night

The Breakwater

Large boulders piled high
stretch out into the bay
and form a breakwater 
that shields the beach 
from high waves 
and heavy swells rolling in
from southerly gales. 

I have stood there
at the end when the sea
was hurling its rage 
and all fury exploded
like bomb bursts of watery
shrapnel into the air. 
I have seen such power 
subside and tamed
to compliant licks 
around the feet of rocks.

More than forty years ago
on a deep breath
I snorkeled down its ledges
into the rock strewn and weedy
world that lay at its base,
places where stingrays slept 
and where fish glided
effortlessly along crevices 
and over sponge
covered outcrops.
I cradled a fragile seahorse 
in my trembling hands.

I no longer have
the confidence to rock hop
its length to the end
but stand where it butts
the land, commanding memory
to whip up a wind
and set wave upon wave
to awaken a soul 
from its sleep
and make it feel
the sting of a southerly gale,
wet, cold and wonderful,
once again.

NOELLE COTTAGE MAINE

   Noelle Cottage straddles ledges of grey,
   Extending into waters of Casio Bay,
   Along Small Point’s shoreline of Atlantic Ocean,
   Observing forest, sky, and ocean devotion.

   Feathered fliers: Osprey, Sea Gull, and Eagle,
   Their diet all favorites and everything legal,
   Overhead wing-singing their various tunes,
   Hunt above beaches near sandy, beige dunes.

   Noelle Cottage awaits - at the end of Shore Road
   Where sea-salty breezes generally flow,
   Among acres of Fir, Birch, Maple, and Pine,
   Awakening fond memories obscure in time.

   Life by the sea is always a challenge.
   Happiness there’s a joyous challenge to manage.

Closed-In

This day
in the deep country, the sky it is high, blue, and vertical,
with no hand holds, nor anything for the eye to cling to.

In the city we don't get 'big sky, we get pencil thin rays
to sweep our dusty ledges, we have elevations
where the sky fades to gray on viewless windows.

Far below, down on the hemmed-in streets
a few trees, stretch, reach like mountain climbers,
In the ghetto, doors clutch at pidgin cluttered roofs.

Mostly
we give no thought to the sheer narrowness of it all;
how the city closes in on itself.

it's no wonder some choose to leap,
rather than foot-slog up an ever-descending
staircase.

Forbidden Zone

Honey Locust Trees, perched precariously on
Ledges lost amid ruptured chasms of evil
Ant hills, protruding fistfuls of grapefruit-sized
Giant ants suffering remnants within sight of 
Chernobyl, in the Ukraine forbidden zone;
Seemingly immune to the poisonous pods;
 Literally dripping heavy ants clinging to juicy,
Waxy seeds as they climb and fall over each
Other feasting on spandrel sins denied by silver
Palaces adorned with backroom deals and
Shady hats glittering with guava-glazed
Toasted pecans, spun with rain-soaked
Clumps of blue spirulina hungrily engulfed
By the living dead...

Enrobed

                   In

                      Pock-marked

                                             Palladium

Hemmed In

The sky has climbed over
its usual low cloud cover,
today it is high, blue and vertical
with no hand holds,
those places for the eye to cling to.

In the city we don't get 'big sky'
we get pencil thin shafts
that sweep the dust off ledges,
we have foot-slogging
staircases and elevations.
where the sky cannot rise beyond
one last viewless window.

Far below
upon those hemmed-in streets
some seem forced to grow
into hybrid creatures
that must suck upon
each other's fears.

There are trees, a few stretch and reach
like mountain climbers,
yet all that high air above us is not reassuring,
it creates a feeling of smallness,
our arms too paltry to grasp the infinite.

Mostly we give no thought
to the sheer narrowness of it all,
and so with only these
manmade clifftops to jump from
it's no wonder some choose to leap.

Prayers of Ancient Oak

ancient oak got on his knees
the best he could considering he is older
and his roots are creaking, and his knees no longer bend
he needed guidance, and he knew where to go.
God heard and answered ancient oak’s plea.
a few months later ancient oak was put into a house.
making lovely banisters, poles, window ledges
thank you! Ancient oak said to God.
he had always wanted to be appreciated.
“look at this beautiful oak flooring!” the new homeowners said.
his prayers had been answered.

Feeding the Birds

I’ve never wanted to be anything other than myself
except for maybe being your person specifically,
but the appeal of being a house cat or some
other equally lounging, peaceful animal has never
exactly captured me in any great way. 

That was until I saw her feeding birds
and then I thought perhaps I’d like to be a brown and gray
pigeon that lives on all the ledges of the city,
and frequents the power lines above the park bench
to gossip and catch up with all my fellow avian brothers.

She had brought her to-go container from Felini’s
and was feeding 30 birds crostinis with tomato
sauce which I don’t even particularly like
but she would smile and speak her word’s of encouragement
saying, “come on loves, crostini is best enjoyed with tomato
you’ll love the contrast in flavor.”

Now I don’t know that much about what kind of lives
pigeons lead or if crostini really is best enjoyed with tomato sauce
 but I would imagine it’s the sweetest kind
of life when someone like her comes to treat you to
an Italian meal at 2 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon

I Wandered Lonely As a Tramp

"I wandered lonely as a cloud"--- By William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a tramp, 
Far, far away from all human habitats
Away from all prying eyes
Following the bent
Of my vagrant inclination; 
Into Nature’s sylvan pockets
To places studded with trees
To the tranquil bosom of the woods
Onto the heights of bald headed hills
Where shrubs struggle to strike root
From the cleft of rocks and ledges
Where in hollows, wild bushes grow in clusters

To watch the shreds of hovering mist
To gaze upon piles of sailing clouds
To shout loud and whistle long
And to listen to the hills
Mimicking my own sound

There I will hop and jump, 
Like a sprightly forest fawn, 
As I don’t fear
Either the silently gliding streams, 
Or the clump of swaying trees, 
The host of wild flowers, 
Or the monstrous mossy rocks, 
Either the birds or the beasts

Never will they watch my cranky pranks
And call me a loony
As here my own men might do! 

September 19, 2022 

Written for the contest, I Wandered Lonely As _ Challenge 
Sponsor, Natasha L Scragg
Judged on 9/24/2022

Old Sentries Standing Guard

Old sentries standing guard for centuries
Exposed rocky ledges staring outward
Like true natives with rugged determination,
Nature's hieroglyphics in emerald green
Reflect gold splintered sparkling gems
High above savage river's ragged edges,
Far below the sounds of rapids whooshing
Unaware the circling echo of eagle overhead.

written February 13, 2022

Winter In the High Country

The air so cold it feels inert,
briskness that makes the mind alert,
a bluebird sky, a crystal day,
the sun chases some chill away.
New snow half-way up to my knees,
wells and hollows around the trees,
stunted forest, tiny but old,
gnarled by winds and endless cold,
the rhyme ice makes a heavy load,
spruce grouse is flitting too and fro,
bed rock sheened in veneers of ice,
ledges peak out to offer sight
to peaks where so few men have trod,
you stare out like an ancient god.
I see why some folks hike for this,
lucky, this peak has a chairlift.

I Am Earth

I Am Earth
I am Earth,
Home to all creatures, infinite and unconditional,
The bosom of my soil yields life, comfort, peace and love
I am wonder filled caves,
Green hills of glory,
Valleys rich in splendor,
I am steep rocky ledges
too treacherous to navigate,
I am dangerous slides of loose stones
To which you loose your footing,
Send your roots deep within me
so I may hold you up straight and strong
as your reach upwards in search of the sun,
I am generous in my abundance and shelter,
I am merciless in the barren waste lands that yield nothing,
My terrain is every changing, impossible to predict,
I am high mountain peaks too dangerous to scale,
I am a vastness of beaty and life,
I am Earth, 
Home to all creatures, infinite and unconditional,
Patient, loving, forever

• Short Ledges Poems
• Famous Ledges Poems
• Best Ledges Poems
• Read Ledges Poems
• Long Ledges Poems
• Ledges Quotes