Back then, some 15 years ago was when,
I didn't realize it, but God knew
that I needed a friend.
And then, along came you.
The light was heavily blocked
by the moon of my stubbornness.
Dwelling in the shadows and inspired
by the spirit of restlessness,
I stood by a cave, not far
from the pit of despair.
And then, along came you.
The environment was isolated
and filled with polluted air.
And then, along came you.
At a time when I had drifted
off the beaten path, nearly lost
and feeling all alone; in a season when
I wasn't very strong; when my life was
no longer a happy song but more like a
complicated puzzle or a game of ping pong.
And then, along came you.
With friendship fresh and pure as
the morning dew, along came you.
I dread to think where I would have gone if you had not come along. Perhaps I would have continued to roam, never finding where I belong.
So my friend, that is why, from the depths
of my renewed heart, I say, "Thank you".
My Valley
Tucked away in the north-central part of the state, about ten miles or so from where the clear and slow-moving water of the Grand River mixes with the quickly rolling mud of the Missouri River. Was my isolated valley. A tiny insignificant place dotted with small farms and rolling pastureland of bluestem, switch, and Indian grass. Somewhere just off the beaten path and a little left of “where the hell am I anyway”. From high up in the hills where the Crabapple and Cottonwood creeks merge just outside Log Cabin Station, there is a small creek that begins to snake its way south for thirty miles or so along the northern boundary of that rich Sugar Maple bottom land. For seventy centuries the Sioux Indians fished, hunted, and thrived there. They were the first to speak its name. The abundance of wildlife in the area led them to believe that that small waterway was the ‘River of the Great Spirit’, and they called it…Wakenda.
Life moves in circles,
Like the oceans ebb and flow,
There are no shortcuts.
Take me back to Akureyri, sunshine capital of the north
Through lava fields and bluest waterfalls rushing forth
Summer solstice came and we never saw the dark
A perfect time of year for an adventure to embark
Natural hot springs buried like hidden treasure on the way
Find them off the beaten path when it feels you've gone astray
Sipping water from a stream melting off of glacial snow
Refreshments courtesy of Skaftafell near Arctic Circle, just below
As the sun dipped down at 3am to quickly greet us once again
The feeling of a lit up ghost town emanates a calming zen
To see once more the humpback whale and smell the fresh sea air
One day I'll buy another ticket, and tell them, "Take me there."
Jan 5, 2023
I enjoy wandering off the beaten path
not knowing the path taken
nothing pressing
no schedule
moving slowly
stopping often along the way
listening to forest life
melting into nature
problems seem moot
Another revolution 'round the sun:
the plans are laid, the resolutions penned.
This is the year at last to be the one:
lose weight, exercise more, curtail the spend.
Then life, it seems, jumps up, gets in the way:
the unexpected call from a dear friend.
Your planner list can wait another day,
for it was just a minder in the end.
The days then turn to weeks before you know,
and now you’re so far off the beaten path,
the goal you set not very long ago:
completely hopeless, when you do the math.
It catches you off guard, and you’ve begun
another revolution 'round the sun.
—————
for the Orphan Sonnet Poetry Contest
sponsored by Emile Pinet
written on 05/01/2022
We meander off the beaten path,
A veritable sally,
Admiring the flight of lively swallows
Above the green vast valley.
Puffy white clouds form and reform,
Methinks, one looks like a galley.
The twittering birds in perfect harmony,
Look like a rally.
Sheep graze here and there,
How lovely to be able to dilly dally.
We find some rest beneath a shady willow
And steal a kiss from my pretty Sally.
One Kiss? What a poor show,
Finally, I could not keep the tally.
Enchanted and happy,
We just meander back to our alley.
Take me as far off the beaten path as you can,
and stay with me..
In my sweat I am drowning
My passion is the coast ward soaker
Off the beaten path resounding
What could there be more purely mediocre?
I was a weather forecast and you a gale
In my tears I'm crying, I am drowning
Off the beaten path resounding
What could there be more purely mediocre?
I was a weather forecast and you a gale
That moment my soul grew chill
As I fell down the hill
My throat coughing
I crave the cool, chilly calm
And so you came gently gurgling
I am coking off my own vomit drowning
Resounding the gasp, of grasp of our last embrace
Towering over me more purely mediocre taunting
If I could just have but just a taste
Off the beaten path resounding
Deep into that darkness shivering
All my soul within me delivering
'It's that northeaster wind,' I muttered blowing
That moment my soul grew chill
As I fell down the hill
My throat coughing
I crave the cool, chilly calm
And so you came gently emerging
My last thrill, even still
If I could just have but just a taste
of your spirit soul's breathe in my drowning
1/22/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
it’s off the beaten path
this adventure she’s living
her courage and imagination
an effervescent passion
her mom can’t fathom
and follows her
accomplishments
with pure delight
and silently wishes
she could somehow
grow wings on her own
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
I chose to follow the road
Even though i know not where it goes
My thoughts alone the only hope
To help my through this life alone
I guess i could just let it go
But then the end i'll never know.
I wonder if you know
Why the world around the road
Has changed its tune as i go
Maybe that's just how it goes
When you think you are alone
But the truth is what you hope.
A silhouette becomes a hope
And you know i already know
That i never really was alone
Because you were walking down the road
Never knowing where it goes
But like me you chose to go
So together here we go
Bound together filled with hope
Still not knowing where it goes
Truthfully i don't care to know
We don't even need the road
Its enough to not be alone
Now i ask are we alone?
Off the beaten path we go
Off behind us, gone is the road
A life alive that is the hope
We cannot be the first to know
That the road forever goes
Now we know just how it goes
Everyone feels all alone
But we’ll tell you what we know
Come and rest before you go
Eat and let me give you hope
You are not alone, just the road.
A shadow falls over the ruins.
As the path leads her to where
She wants to go.
The adventures played out
In her mind.
Heading off the beaten path
Is what she read about
so many times.
In search of hidden gems
That sparkled and shined.
4 am 6/ 13/ 2017
Gundabooka Sam
Old Sam squats at Gundabooka
Somewhere out the back of Bourke,
He lives in a shanty hut,
Doesn't seem to do much work,
He wears rope-held trousers
And a long-john undershirt,
His crumpled hat's seen better days
Always covered in red dirt.
Old Sam he has a kookie
That sits upon his hat,
It always laughs its loudest
When Sam reaches for a pat,
He also has a hairy-nose
That follows him around,
That is when that wombat's
Not digging in the ground.
Sam, Sam, from Gundabooka
Always quick with an outback yarn,
Tells tales of outback men
And how some came to harm,
You can hear his raucous laugh
When he cracks a bush joke,
Rolling, rollicking, frolicking,
He's one hell of a squatting bloke.
Sam’s hair and beard are quite red
Although the locals aren’t quite sure,
If it’s just where the red dust gathered,
Maybe they were black well before,
The time he came to live
In his Gundabooka shack,
So far off the beaten path
Even the boomerangs don’t come back.
Dog and Man
the man thinks
he is leading the dog
but the dog knows
the opposite is true
where the dog goes
the man follows
when the dog tarries
the man waits patiently
collecting warm souvenirs
the dog left
in its wake
a subtle reminder
of the man’s
function and presence
the dog has mastered
all of the tricks
of the trade
entangling himself around impediments
probing crack crevice and undergrowth
for evidence of those
who came before him
pausing at random moments
to leave his trace
off the beaten path
straining at the leash
like a kite
catching a whiff of air
hoping to pull free
bound off and away
leaving the man
holding the dangling leash
“Come aside and rest awhile,”
Said the Master to His disciples one day.
He chose a spot off the beaten path,
And led them along a “different” way.
Sometimes He says to each of us
As we busy ourselves with many “things,”
“Come aside with me and rest awhile.”
When we obey the Master, Oh what peace it brings!
Down and off the beaten path
if I just keep going now
there’s a place that I have seen
and I am not quite sure how
From the roar of the valley
is the flowing blood
of a waterfall nestled
behind the cottage wood
the rocks are gleaming
and streaming
with the mist
as the water
tumbles
and breaks
Moss is the carpet
bark is the wallpaper
leaves are my ceiling
the water is my guardian
It’s constant pitter patter
I cant even remember
not hearing
its everpresent chatter
I wonder what the sky
must be saying high above
the canopy of the forrest
where flies the dove
As I walk into the depths
and the grotto now before
I yearn to see it with my eyes
and make my hear soar
Just like the place in my head
not a single twig out of place
there stands the waterfall
and the cottage full of grace
and I feel the roots growing
and the trees always knowing
that they must do their silent work
with the babble of the brook
But all together now
they must play a part
of the bigger picture
where everything else must start
And to this place I was drawn
and I’ll never understand why
but I think I’ll stay a while
‘til dusk turns to dawn.
Sub Categories
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.