Long Roads Poems
Long Roads Poems. Below are the most popular long Roads by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roads poems by poem length and keyword.
This now, is who I truly am
as my pen takes liberty.
What now, I write is where I ‘ve been
so much there for all to see.
Good and bad, the in-betweens,
the road walked down through the years,
a panoramic display of scenes
from sunshine highs to darkened tears.
But I am not so unlike you,
you who would glance across this write.
The road you’ve walked that I never knew;
are similar roads not brought to light ?
Know me by the writes you read
and I’ll do the same for you.
Writing is our consuming need
as to ourselves we must stay true.
***Debra Guzzi,
I was mindful of the syllable count in each line
as we’ve discussed in the past, but I had to let my heart go on this one.
(No reflection on your great teaching ability!!)
Wales to me
is memories of my children,
Going to school aged seven and four,
The open seas near Llandudno
Where my children played in sandy pools,
Our stone house near Abergavenny,
That had miles of greenery and bush,
The squirrels that walked to the door
To get their share of my son’s food,
Those winding roads that took us to
Our favourite haunt near Snowdonia,
That little green park near sparrow falls,
where i lay and dreamt on the soft grass,
the good old farm from our front gate,
Where herds of cows we stopped to gaze,
that market place with a tarmac
with slides and swings for tiny tots.
Those lovely days we spent in bed,
When weekend rains kept us in,
friends and neighbours we had Christmas with,
And the mulled red wine and ginger spice,
Long past are those days of pretty wales,
Blue skies, Oceans, meadows and water falls!
But that warmth of heart and friendship,
every now and then comes back on!
Sponsor Julia Ward
Written 4/06/2020
The greatest deception men suffer is from their own opinions. By Leonardo da Vinci.
In a chasm of hate, shards descend,
Crystallized thoughts; their paths now bend.
Splintered and cracked in a furious fall,
Merging, dreary roads white lines extend.
Evil spirits spew out an obnoxious bawl.
Minds split, mixed with a malignant appall.
The emancipator, a beacon of brightness,
His vicious grin tightens, he is eager to crawl.
The edge of a hewn sword is uprightness.
Might is evoked by the blade's fold tightness.
When challenged, demons flinch in fear.
The sturdiness of iron arms is their politeness.
A sword, from its sheath to its gilt hilt, appears.
A valuable emblem that shines luculent clear
Advancing onward, atop an equestrian beast,
Angels sing with lyres, trusting God's sheer
Fear hunts out the wicked, trembling at least.
As the lark sings, fetch a dull cloud from the east.
The emancipator, craving God's healing, is brave.
All day long, one's life is a sumptuous feast.
In this chasm of hate, shards break the wave.
Crystallized beliefs: all paths lead to the grave
But whilst their entirety, they are on display.
Defying the darkness, smashing the deprave
The fight betwixt right and awry is still sway
As the emancipator clashes, his goal will fray.
Hope revives with each swing of the sword.
And the devils fled and were spurred away.
1st place contest winner ??
Two roads divide in a modern wood
One paved for war - the other for peace
But which is the one most taken we ask
The common or the one least understood.
Blue skies beckon at the end of each trail
between tunnels of twisted trees that mask,
hidden meadows of fragrant flowers,
cathedral woods with sunlit veils.
So many promises - impossible to keep,
the endless struggle of Super-powers,
the other side - always misunderstood.
So many wars before we sleep
Will mankind learn enough to grow?
Who has the wisdom to bestow?
Whose world is this- I think I know!
He watches it blow-up below!
Feb 21st. 2020
For Joseph Mays.
Lines to Awaken your Muse Poetry Contest
I used: 4. Whose woods these are I think I know - Robert Frost
3rd. Place
Steady rain vibrating a tin roof
Refreshing breeze from a screen door
Untouched linen on a strange bed
A few luxuries, I adore
Roaring thunder rocks me to sleep
Birds in song for when I wake
Cat naps on the couch in between
Happiness, I can't mistake
Cappuccino and knit throw
Sipping wine as the sun retires
The aroma of steak on the grill
Chatting for hours beside the fire
Up before dawn, packed for a trip
Surviving on adrenaline, alone
Witnessing something for the first time
Learning something, I hadn't known
Anticipating the first kiss
Butterflies, a package deal
Old dirt roads on the side by side
Just me, behind the wheel
Taking a stroll in solitude
Not a soul to entertain
A question with a difficult answer
Finally explained
The completion of a daunting task
Receiving thanks and praise
Laughing too hard to catch my breath
Precious moments to fill my days
I stood where two roads curved away,
The light was soft, the air was still,
My Uncle DeVoe, with wisdom gray,
Said, “Take this path, follow your will.”
He pointed where the shadows played,
On leaves that whispered secrets low,
His voice was calm, his hand had swayed,
But in my heart, I feared to go.
“I know the way,” he softly said,
“This road will lead to peace and more,”
Yet I chose the one ahead,
For fear of what was held in store.
I walked alone, the years rolled by,
With each step, the weight grew cold,
I heard his voice, a distant sigh,
Regret it seems was growing old.
Now I look back, the woods are dim,
The path I chose now worn and bare,
But I see him still, his figure slim,
By the road I should have taken.
In dreams, I walk where he once stood,
His guiding hand, I long to hold,
The road I should have taken—good,
Was lost when I sought paths of gold.
Never did I wound the earth
As I wandered through green meadows,
On the edge of a mourning land.
Never did I steal a single grain
From the quiet grammar
Of nature’s rhyming fields.
Never did I protest the tender murmur
Of the morning air,
Brushing the skin of dawn.
Never did I fashion
even the smallest cage—
Not one a flea
Might call its own.
Never did I know where I misplaced
My better half,
Left unawares at life’s crossing paths.
Never did I summon a fellow soul
To walk beside me
Across long, lonesome roads.
And yet I passed,
Vaguely, before the facade
Of this promised land.
And now my eyes seek rest,
A closing hush,
A final staccato,
An eternal sleep.
The Hurricane was Harvey
By Franklin Price
8/31/2017
The hurricane was Harvey, what an unassuming name
Left the western Yucatan. across the Gulf he came
Building up his power to a category four
Slammed into the Texas coast with wind, and rain, and more
Coming into Rockport with winds one thirty some
Evacuate or hunker down, to damage he has come
He leveled many buildings, and shut the power down
He sent his rains to Houston, to sit there and to pound
Houston, a large city, fourth largest in the land
Rained so hard, in hours, was no dry place to stand
Rained a record fifty inches, that's the Roman numeral L
Overflowed the bayous, made life a living hell
Few had evacuated, of six million people plus
Would have been impossible, a traffic jamming fuss
Bumper to bumper everywhere with auto, truck and bus
Would even make the best of us, wring our hands and cuss
The water rose, it did not stop, covered roads from fork to fork
More area than the cities of Chicago and New York
No one quite expected Harvey to sit and pour
Until the first floors flooded and headed for the second floor
Water, many places, flowing fast and overhead
Rescue workers needed or thousands would be dead
Boats and trucks and copters came to do the work
Reminiscent of the rescue, of the soldiers, at Dunkirk
The heroes came from everywhere, left their families and friends
To risk their lives for others, and the rescuing begins
Hour after hour, from rooftops, trees and cars
Stranded ones were rescued by strangers from afar
The Cajun Navy from Louisian, the governor called the guard
Florida sent their Fish and Game, rescuing long and hard
Soon more than thirty thousand were brought to drier land
Rescuers so exhausted that they could hardly stand
Still they kept on going on helping all of those in need
And took them to the shelters where they could sleep and feed
Some died in the effort, not all in need were found
Some rescuers gave their all, and no longer are around
This is what life is all about, the way that it should fall
We should respond to others' needs, for the better good of all
Think about your fellow man, in all you do and say,
Don't be the Harvey victim, be the rescuer today.
Dust on my boots, sun in my eyes,
Rollin’ down a road where freedom flies.
Fields of gold, wind hums a tune,
Sky so wide, it swallows the moon.
Country roads, take me home,
Where the river sings and the tall pines roam.
Rolling hills, a southern breeze,
Ain't no place I'd rather be.
Mama’s voice calls soft and sweet,
Dinner’s on, and the smell runs deep.
Fireflies dance in the evening glow,
Memories shine where the wildflowers grow.
Country roads, take me home,
Where the river sings and the tall pines roam.
Rolling hills, a southern breeze,
Ain't no place I'd rather be.
Wandered far, lost my way,
City lights never felt the same.
But that red dirt road still calls my name,
Leading me back where my heart remains.
Country roads, take me home,
Where the river sings and the tall pines roam.
Rolling hills, a southern breeze,
Ain't no place I'd rather be.
Yeah, that old dirt road still calls to me,
Ain't no place I'd rather be.
Hope — is the little Light —
That will not say — goodbye —
It lingers — when the Sun has fled —
Still glowing — in the Sky —
It perches — in the quiet Chest —
A Bird — too soft to see —
Yet sings — when all the World is stone —
Its song — of Possibly —
It asks not Bread — nor golden Coin —
Nor Applause — from any Door —
It lives — in narrow Cracks of Night —
And asks for nothing — more —
When Storms — have torn the tallest Trees —
And Roads — refuse the Way —
Hope folds its Wings — but does not fall —
It waits — for maybe Day —
And if the Heart — should doubt its Voice —
Or Grief — grow loud — and deep —
Hope hums — beneath the broken things —
And will not go — to Sleep —