There's a path that winds its way, through shadows dark and deep,
A journey of solitude, where none can creep.
No companion can walk alongside, no hand to hold or guide,
A solitary voyage, where body and soul must divide.
Unlike life's vibrant roads, where laughter echoes free,
Where friends and loved ones stroll, in joyous company.
This journey's different, a lone pilgrimage, devoid of sound,
Where footsteps fade into silence, and hearts are left unbound.
The most poignant sorrow, is the disconnection's pain,
No words can bridge the gap, no visits can remain.
When one departs, they're gone, without a tomorrow's light,
Leaving memories to whisper, in the darkness of endless night.
In this lonely passage, we're left to face our fears,
With only shadows as companions, and tears that dry through the years.
No laughter echoes back, no smiles to warm the way,
Just the weight of final goodbyes, in the fading light of day.
Yet, in this solitude, we're forced to confront our soul,
To find the strength within, to make our hearts whole.
For though the journey's lonely, it's also a chance to grow,
To find the peace that lies within, and let our spirits glow.
dense mobility
of learners in chairless room
stops at wet market
It's not so bad, I say,
Part of our ride today,
Health and mobility our stage,
To this golden age,
Wake up to say,
"Let's get positive, yah!"
Old power chaps and miss
You have so got this,
No need, negative blip,
Ageing process is our trip!
Rise to the occasion
Platform shoe trend
Fashion history that came to an end
Walking high
Thinking tall
Ever so careful in not to fall
There’s a get up and get down
Disco fever
Back in the day platform shoes were the fashion
Today they are a mention
Men got plenty of attention
Today’s heritage
Honor with a privilege
Head up
Move bold
Dance floor beat
Platform shoes on the feet
Man’s fame
Feet that had no tame
No shame
What’s in a name?
Platform shoes were a big deal
For real
Alive and true
Compelled to pursue
Walk on with a step up
Highrise
There where nature
manufactures an outfall,
drop by drop,
a river is born...
The natural history,
covers the sands of tempo,
under the water
hidden...
Before eyes
who only sight,
what wet feet
step on...!
They roam their territory, out in their jungle
and with plenty too fell, it gives them a smile
It is their mobility, that makes them agile
with a sense of smell, here comes a new arrival
Not being revolutionary, because their home is not vial
they don’t have to yell, because that’s not their style
Well known in history, to which one is so vital
they should ring their own bell, to make sure they stay primal
The Dial-a-Ride crew are here for you,
ready with a smile we go the extra mile,
take you door to door - who could ask for more ?
We take your wheelchair for no extra fare,
£3 each way is all you pay,
so you can afford to come on board,
call us now to find out how.
I remember a time when I felt like being on the outside looking inside.
It was a time of great intentions but very limited abilities to make changes.
I knew that there were greater things to consider in my future.
In time, those horse and buggie days gave way to the jet age.
And since then, I have been building a good life for me and family.
03012018 PS Contest, 8 Word Challenge, Robert Haigh, 10P
Possession wonderful mobility of thumb
Is an important feature of the human race,
That feature separate us from the apes.
But, for some people, it is the only one.
As setting sun trails off behind a peak,
I lie in utter lone tranquility
here tethered to my earthly home. I seek
a sundering. . . A new mobility.
I focus on the hidden, inner me,
forgetting awkward limbs and hands and toes.
My body must entirely flaccid be,
so placidly I keep a still repose
that soul might elsewhere go past mountain tops.
Then suddenly, I feel my spirit pitch.
It spins; I’m on the brink. . . and then it stops!
I think this failure’s more than just a glitch.
I open up my eyes and see afar,
now twinkling with amusement, night’s first star.
(true story about my one attempt long ago for an OBE.)
My Lord, you are the Poet,
Who notes me with thy strong hands.
I can only aspire to know it
And extend thy word to all known lands.
You have set in me for the sun
A tabernacle for his regal throne,
From which he arises for his daily run
Throughout heaven's every zone.
Each morn I await his excellent ascent.
Onward with his golden lamp of God,
He begins at one end of the firmament
And runs on with the light of Aaron's rod.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.