Long Footbridge Poems
Long Footbridge Poems. Below are the most popular long Footbridge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Footbridge poems by poem length and keyword.
At the footbridge, I read, "The way to positive change does lie up there"
So said the note, written in black
On a wooden board, which shined so much
That my gaze could hardly hold up the glare
No, shouted the people who were already up
It is not fake
Just do it, climb on, the hardest is the first step
The rest shall be easy, you will love it more as you approach
Here I was, brought to a footbridge
I did have the choice, of my own acts I was the sole judge
I could choose to bring about positivity to Earth
Or I could choose to go on way, letting idleness be my strength
Why, the world is sick, the world would gladly accept a helping hand
Why, even if the people walking on it do be blind
Why, Mother Earth does be not
Mother Earth would welcome a change to a peaceful state
So I climbed up the footbridge, indeed
The first step was the hardest
But I climbed up and I passed all my tests
I was made of inner feminine endurance, I was made to lead
It has become my cause, to bring some peace here
Here, in this fallen world, here, which does be to all of us so dear
But which we do mistreat, out of egoistic selfishness
Pray, with the climb up to life's footbridge have I been blessed
I shall make of it my life's mission, my aim
Everything else does be lame
Like caring for myself, like wanting for myself
Like thinking of only myself, like boasting about myself
Rather, it does be best to lend to helping hand
It does be best to guide Man
So that someday, when all our eyes shall open up in another world
We would not be accused of having lived with our eyes covered with a blindfold
22 July 2016
We were two souls separated by a wide river,
and to cut the distance we needed to build
a footbridge enhancing the green landscape;
that would have been our wonderful dream
to meet on the wooden bridge and watch
each evening a rose-tinted sunset so unique!
And the hummingbirds would come to build
their nests in the ever-green shrubs and bushes,
dandelions and daises would grow on each bend;
gorgeous butterflies lured by them would float
on the whitest cherry trees that bees would love
by greeting spring with their intense scent dispersing!
Even night would seem more realistic to the eyes,
there would be stars and fireflies; Earth would become
a scintillating scene which would have nothing to envy
the endless Heavens so distant and fading from view...
as the glowing sunrise would turn into a refulgent light
showing once again the walkaway of the footbridge!
Then a multitude of larks would take flight shrilling,
we would look up and see how happy they are!
When Man protects Nature and embellishes it,
true harmony is heard in mountains, hills and valleys,
no creature needs to fear anything, but roam freely;
and us enthralled by this vision, walk home serenely.
Written on 7/35/ 2016
At the footbridge of time...
It lies just ahead, the path worn and clear.
How many others found their way walking here?
Oak and maple to the left, leaf covered river stones on the right
and in between, the well traveled path clear in sight.
So many times in the past, I parked the car
hiked up the cliff then found the path aligned with the north star.
Getting a foothold here and another there
your hand in mine as we stepped into the clear.
Straight away we walked together, crushed the leaves where we stood
with a crunch now and then of dry, broken potential firewood.
The hill stretched up and at the top we could finally see
pathways to the footbridge just below the trees.
We hardly spoke but silently we knew
choosing to take the steps forward without a clue
This path and the footbridge standing solidly in place
helps looking back with not one step to be erased.
Like the wood used to build it lay the stepping stones
to another place across the wide expanse still unknown.
Yes, been there once, five times maybe more
yet each new venture opens brand new doors.
This time, I walk alone with memory in heart
let me begin again with another start.
Step quick, step slow
contemplating when to go
across the footbridge of the past
to the present future is all i ask.
The hoarfrost bites the tender limbs, with hard snow on the ground
The water surface mirror like, in the forest there's no sound
The footbridge wears a coat of ice, flashing in the sun
Awaits steam blowing joggers, out on their morning run
The birds sit on the branches, wrapped in feathers warm
The morning is so peaceful, not the slightest sign of storm
The badger curled up in his set, he waits for stronger sun
You can't dig worms in iron hard ground, winter life's no fun
The fox patrols the open ground, where the rabbits dig for grass
They are deep down in their burrows, wait for early morn to pass
While Owls eat mainly insects, Voles and Field mice don't stray far
From the warmth of grass lined burrows, safe haven that they are
In time the winter turns to spring, the freshness that it brings
The green grass back, the leaves on trees, all the pleasant things
Soon will come the Caddisfly, with larvae for the fish
The same that later in the year, end in the anglers dish
And so it goes the seasons pass, as they have always done
Since the time this earth our home, created by the One
While each of us is not here long, it behoves us to take care
Of what was given us to use, I'll do my best I swear
With trembling fingers I’d opened the bloodstained envelope
But I shouldn’t have been surprised at the state of the paper …
you work as a butcher
Your message was short -
Meet me at the footbridge at midnight
I’ll bring the blue tartan blanket .. I have a surprise for you
My heart skipped a beat when I recall the last time we met
We had a moonlight feast then made mad passionate love
Our bodies rising and falling like the tide
Then came crashing back down to earth on the blue tartan blanket
I hastily gathered together some tasty treats for our picnic
then put on my white gypsy top with black ribbon lacing
which accentuated my curvaceous figure
You could feast your eyes on me whilst we dined!
Hurrying along the towpath; my black cloak swirled in the autumn breeze
I felt like red riding hood carrying my brown wicker basket
I could see you standing on the footbridge
Your huge frame silhouetted in the moonlight
You ran to greet me and your lips crushed into mine
Arm in arm we strolled to the shelter of the gnarled oak tree
I spread out the blanket, unpacked the picnic and we ate hungrily
You asked me to close my eyes …I smiled and waited for my surprise
Two days later a dismembered body was found
Lying on a blood soaked tartan blanket
24th August 2016
Steam from a passing train funnel
wrapped under and over the footbridge
like regret around a jilted lover.
We were walking home from school
(people walked places, then).
Afternoon sun was glittering
on the maturing wayside grass,
tall and feathery.
Term was ending.
I was leaving primary behind.
The "big school" loomed.
Just then, Tiddler came up.
"Good afternoon, David,"
said my mother. I hadn't known
Tiddler's actual name, ere this.
Tiny, fine-boned, frail,
he was in some way underformed.
Some mysterious brush with something
grown-ups, hushed, named "diphtheria".
"What's that, Tiddler?" ventured I.
His end-of-year school photo.
He proffered it, reluctantly.
My raucous guffaw split the air.
I don't remember handing it back -
just my mother's voice,
softened by sadness.
I'd let her down.
"Do you suppose," she said,
once he was safely out of earshot,
"he wants to look the way he does?"
I was already burning with shame.
"He'll show that picture
to his mother, and she won't see
the defects that you find so funny.
She'll see a little prince."
I watched his skinny legs,
trotting on ahead,
felt acid tears etch my cheeks.
There was more to this being big
than simply being big.
I wanted to hold him in my own arms,
and tell him how handsome he was.
Or even just refer to him as David.
But he trotted on,
his image guarded tightly
under one withered arm.
"Lake Tear in the Clouds" was an indescribably pretty scene
Lewis Pugh hiked in the rain; clouds lifted, he felt serene.
He dove in, swam through hemlock, maple, ash and birch
An adventure starting in nature's wooden church.
Vanderwhacker Mountain, Bad Luck Pond and "Flowed Land"
Through turbulent "Opalescent River", hand over hand
He saw beavers, osprey, an eagle in the sky
Just 300 miles to go, an experience you can't buy.
The tides reach Troy and pure fresh waters cease
So Lewis often swam at night, in quiet and in peace
He would do the backstroke to gaze at the Milky Way
Sometimes the romance of night surpassed that of the day.
A blue moon was rising, the river bathed in light,
The dark waters glowed beneath the stars of night.
Past the Catskills the sun rose, and he was still on a roll
He looked east at Poet's Walk where writers used to stroll.
He passed 200 feet under the Walkway that once was used for rail:
The longest footbridge in the world, and it connects to a long bike Trail
Then Breakneck Ridge, named when a bull fell off the wall
He passed the Croton River, where Paddleboarders try not to fall.
He passed the little park where I often take my mom
People sit there on lawn chairs, tranquil and calm
Past the Palisade cliffs, and the cycling road below
Past the north end of Manhattan and the Spuyten Duyvil flow.
Past the Cloisters with its Unicorns and medieval art
Past the place where Dad first stayed, ambition in his heart
Lewis joined the Hudson's legends, and he made a lasting mark
When he climbed soaking but happy, at the end, at Battery Park.
City dwellers may take the river as a backdrop, mundane, just a given
Some people live walled-in lives, it might be better to be driven
Henry Hudson found here "as pleasant a land as one can explore"
Try looking at the familiar with new eyes, let’s go down to the shore.
follow this bridge to the other side
there is a world there where a troll can hide
you can keep your nudity, so enjoy the walk.
be aware of things overhead that squawk
optimistic troll loved crunchy leaves
he stomped them hard; it was a breeze
the old bridge said ouch but winked his eye
this encouragement made him want to try
he figured it would take a week and a day
to cross that footbridge, but what the hey?
the only thing you have is your time right?
It was scary when it got dark late at night
He heard a WHOOO and it scared him so
He covered up with leaves and refused to go
How this story ends, is anyone’s guess….
Tune in next week to hear the rest.
At the footbridge day and night
Dreams meet and dreams avoid
The footbridge is never annoyed
Smiles Sigmund Freud
At this end the highway
At the other the park
Connects the two contrast
The footbridge smiles in the dark
Dreams in the dark chamber
The fountains turn and toss
Listening to the footfall chaos
The footbridge I walk across
Hurry up says the red bird
The police inspector is there
I run across the footbridge
To my easy chair
On one side the blood and dust
On the other your restless bird
The footbridge one has to trust
To bear the world very hard
___________________________________
July 18, 2016
The Ornament
A cold December morning,
sparkling air so clean
We hold a tiny ornament
a snowflake crystalline
Suspended by a wire,
a’ glisten in the light
Searching for the perfect tree
to hold it ever tight
An image so created
for all the world to see
In winter formed illusion
of snowfall majesty
Along a trodden pathway
a wooden footbridge calls
Initials carved the railing
neath whispered leaves a’ fall
An evergreen does shimmer
‘pon branches flows the breeze
Magnificent it beckons
among the many trees
So chosen for its beauty
along the water’s shore
To place this silver snowflake
to last for evermore
A symbol of the season
and love to share this scene
Affection fills this gesture
now swept within a dream
For in this forest setting,
a little peace to find
Does sit within this snowflake
to tell the world you’re mine
As spring shall bring the roses
and summer, days so warm
Fall, the vibrant colors
come winter we are born
And every year that follows,
if you accept my hand
An ornament the world will see
on each tree in the land