Meandering Poems - Poems about Meandering

Vast as a landscape, not a straight but a meandering one Sometimes placid sometimes storms, but always moving It is alive; always flowing getting lost in eddies of distraction Sense of timelessness flowing for millennia,shaping the earth Thoughts shape you like a quiet meditation on introspection It doesn’t always follow a straight path and takes its time. ...

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"There's a river meandering through the mind" I love nature and wandering among the green trees, and following the bubbling path of a cool blue river; as it meanders and twists by jagged rocks and reeds, where ducks and swans make nests in the shade, And when I go to sleep at night I meander that river; I explore...

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It is a beautiful spring day, birds are singing their little hearts out. I am rocking in my favorite rocking chair, as a cool breeze covers me like a blanket. What could get better than this, I ask - as I sit and ponder? "There's a river meandering through the mind," with many thoughts. Thoughts are running wild, like the river meandering around...

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Do you believe in aliens? I do. Not the type that are green with big black eyes and tentacles, But the ones that are just like you and me They sit imprisoned in classrooms And worry about bleaching their hair And if red lipstick will match their dress And where their next meal will come from. A normal life on a normal planet In...

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Whenever I look upon his poems I wonder: Why so many words today, words concerning so many things, expressed so aimlessly as if to meet a deadline? He must have so drifted, rambled, this way or that, who knows? Today - or was it yesterday? - he wrote of the creature who lives next door. Oh, human, of course, but this is how...

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I have a dream and a wish and a great thirst to write to fulfill an innermost need deep within to nurture my soul with words like a cozy blanket of memory and let thoughts flow communicate a messages open the curtain of long ago and write a letter to the world a poem where I expose my scars my wounds oh, I have a story to tell of a...

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A Meandering Cocophony of Thought that Evades Fate Contractual obligations toward your future self Non-Factual invocations that deprive you of your health Actual comparisons between poverty and wealth Emmanuel on the eve of a heavenly operation of stealth Bellowing antiquities of integrated life forms moving Fellow things that have consummated the notions that you are grooving Yellowing age old...

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meandering stream splashes on pebbles, whispers ~ ...

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Old Bald Frog and a toad named Ander saw Sally wander down by the road. Said Frog, "Now Sally, me and Ander been wondering where you do meander?" Now, Ander was a three-toed toad, had four before that Sally strode upon his feet, a feat that slowed and hobbled Ander’s hopping mode, and took him longer when he mowed. See, Frog and Ander,...

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I worked very hard I worked harder than I thought Day in and out...

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wind e c h o e s through tangled emerald trees ...

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meandering thoughts dearest, loved friend calls out after the human meandering thoughts a dearest, loving friend stalls at the old human meandering draughts lonely, loving friend thirsty watching them drink up 12/13/21 Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©...

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Meandering stream of dreams, That flows beside the old willow~ Where laughters of my childhood echo Upon the river rocks of blue and yellow. I throw a stone upon her bosom~ To see at least a tiny ripple, Instead I see lilies blossom, In the meandering stream of dreams. September 9, 2021 For “M” Contest, New Only Poetry Contest Sponsored by Constance La France ‘Your...

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Join us in our blissful meandering spree Circling around our yard, leisurely free My special child and I --- bonding with glee Expressing partnership of “Mom and me.” Guiding him in wheel chair for sun-bath drive I delight that steadfastly he does strive Maneuvering well, so we can arrive There --- for fresh air bask, exchanging high five. Wheeling himself with mobility zeal Gladly...

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One spring day meandering in a meadow, I saw a butterfly whose beauty matched that of May's azure sky. With blue silken wings like that of a fairy, she flitted here and there - aimlessly as butterflies seem wont to do. Oh, to be that butterfly, alighting on any pretty flower whose scent delighted me - unhurried and unworried. I would be that butterfly...

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