I thought we'd be each other's home,
but you decided to roam.
But it was all your blame game,
I wish I'd known the same.
You said you looked me in the eyes-
can you tell me how many goodbyes?
Can you see the signs in my cries?
All wasted now, my tries.
I hope God lets you sit in this ache,
that you caused, this heart to break.
But I hope you recover in the end,
and may you never receive the love I send.
When ravens croak at mid of night
Their echoes spiral to the sky,
A solemn sound shifts on the breeze,
A sullen chill flows in the high.
My mind commences to roam free,
A darkened thought begins to chime
Distant shadows, I start to see,
Or maybe just the turning time.
I sense their voices sharp and deep,
A language I can almost guess,
Secrets that the tree leaves keep,
While the world waltzes warmly to rest.
I listen close and hold my breath,
Shaping myself to greet my plight,
Reminisce life and silent death
In the grim darkness of the night.
Perhaps not death, just quiet rest,
While the weather is cold and grey,
As ravens know what serves me best
To grace the earth anew someday.
The winter path, footprints in snow
Impressions by those who may know
Cold outside doesn't reach the heart,
for those who choose from birth to start...
a purposeful life to fulfill
caring deeply, with inner will
Beyond the trees lies open land...
Plentiful space to understand
I see two woodpeckers on a tree,
hammering the bark before me
Their purpose a daily mission
A door to home with ambition
A nice place to settle safely
In their cozy hole in a tree
I walked this winter path back home
Holding freedom from where I roam
Heidi Sands
2/9/26
(C)opyright
*8 syllables
my time of childhood, I could roam free
without any worries, without any care in the world
from breakfast to dinner mum would never see me
an innocent child with happy laughter and smiling glee
life seemed simpler, time never twisted or twirled
my time of childhood, I could roam free
whether on my own or with a friend i was let be
my passion to roam afar became my world
from breakfast to dinner mum would never see me
cuts and bruises never bothered me
they were trophies of life in my golden dreamworld
my time of childhood, I could roam free
my young angelic eyes saw no danger around me
an innocent child whose simplicity was unfurled
from breakfast to dinner mum would never see me
i unlocked the no fuss door with my key
my imagination soared high, spun and whirled
my time of childhood, I could roam free
from breakfast to dinner mum would never see me
Oh West, there my heart lies bare,
At rest between hills and hallowed mountains fair.
The lands I roam are bleak, so westward still I seek,
For no black earth nor blue sky rivals paradise so sweet.
Rocky Mountains rise, stalwart and timeless,
Their timbered slopes alive in green since the dawn of man.
The rolling plains, the winsome lands,
Made richer still by care and strong, enduring hands.
Oh, Thoreau spoke true: “Westward I go free,”
And those words resound in hearts like mine.
We cross long miles, old lives left swiftly behind,
For what lies eastward but death, Abaddon entwined?
For there rise steel spires, pressed by the hands of men,
Tall things that crowd the breath and dim the soul.
The weight of countless wills, their evils drawn to one place,
Settled deep into that forsaken soil.
You shall not turn me toward those ways again.
No force nor claim shall drive me to return through those lands and fen.
I may take rest, yet ever shall my eyes be drawn
To the lands of my heart,
To the West for which I long.
Haunted Cemetery
Carved stones stand in a silent place,
The moon sparkles on every face,
Not live faces, but carved in bones,
Where whispers warp and shadows moan.
On moonlight nights, near tangled trees,
Spirits roam, with their will quite free,
Beseeching stuffs from passers-by,
Rolling their tongues with a blunt sigh.
One night, close by the graveyard`s gate,
A spirit in white, crossed my fate,
Pleading for a candle as gift,
I took to my heels, with a rift.
Our hearts romanticize the vagabond.
To walk away from all that brings you down.
It’s true we’re free to get up and be gone.
In search of new horizons to be found.
Always snipping at the ties that bind us
And doing all you would just as you may.
Worries can all just be left behind us.
‘Cause in the morn we simply walk away.
Dodging all responsibilities now.
There’s nothing holds you down or brings you back.
Thinking and just doing as you please now.
All you might need you carry in your pack.
But this, my curse, my cross: to always roam…
Cannot you feel my loss: O! Where is home?
There was a day, I lost my way,
Then I was young back in the day,
I enjoyed that my aimless roam.
Though I was many miles from home.
I bothered less about the tears,
How my absence would've caused fears ~
In the minds of my peers and rents;
Though deep in my soul it torments.
When hunger finally set in,
Then I knew how stupid I'd been.
By then the day had faded out.
Only the stars could hear my shout.
Though hunger had stolen my voice,
Nothing again made me rejoice.
Then someone flashed a light so bright ~
Last thing I remembered that night.
Pure anemoia,
a feeling inside;
The fans of secure
lure my stormy tide;
Inner deja vu,
clue cannot be seen;
You some way have been,
spin the vision’s clean;
I’ve seen it before,
story holds my heart;
Core will hit my drive,
dive in I jumpstart!
It smells just like home,
gnome out back on guard;
Roam and trust that fit,
sit in that sick yard.
a cute catacomb
place where we would like to roam
there we have our home
find a place to hide
we should see quarterback slide
first down was denied
she was with a smile
while she had walked down each aisle
number can compile
devil avoid
as well as slip by Freud
friend an android
Probably should have made it four entries instead of only one.
it was a day
not unlike this one
when an archaeologist
… sore knees
… paint brush
… Friday fingernails
held my earthen skull
in his hands
and spared me a thought
his dirt-stained eyes
filling my empty sockets
and
for a speck
of epochal dirt
neither of us
heard the sun
Walking along a road, diagonally,
through someone's house briefly
and back out where there isn't a door
across their vegetable patch and
eventually over the bones of some buried
unknowns.
Cows are currently grazing in someone's
hallway, while a tree grows in the kitchen.
As I walk, I trample through a Roman bath
where in a different time a rotund, well fed
Roman is relaxing in his water.
My next foot down stamps the hand
of a warrior who has just fallen to the sword
As he, in his battledress and beard,
lays in someone else's hearth
where a herb-filled stew is being cooked.
I tread effortlessly over walls and pits,
rooms and murder scenes, above oceans
and below oceans.
These layers of time leave layers of life
which layer the ground silently screaming
voices and echoes of stories once told.
There will then be a layer to come
where someone will tread their feet
over my life, my house and my bed.
I move as my soul moves...
I sway with the tides,
and drift along the shores...
I soar over valleys with the wind,
and run wild through natural habitats...
Anything to not live in stagnation if I can...
Freedom is my calling...
Patience my jest.
Come as you can
Before I am gone again...
In earnest I would comb the earth
Through desert, mountain, forest, firth
Cross highlands, lowlands, rolling hills
Swim oceans, rivers, fjords, and kills
All to find out where you are
No distance is too great or far
That isn't worth the trodden way
To be with you at end of day
My love is with a passion quite
Enough to make the darkest night
As bright as daytime, all things seen
So clear, no thing can contravene
And though I walk now by myself
My deepest feelings on the shelf
They're all still there, restrained yet strong
Oh Bluebird, how for you I long
I have so much yet to unpack
Poems, love songs, none I lack
I write for you, it's easy to
My heart composes them on cue
Patience Love, sit, wait and see
In case someday she flies to me
Until such time that day may dawn
We'll roam across this world alone
where can I roam where is home
the skies are dark with cloudy vibrations
sounds behind the celestial sphere there is a chill
sidewalks, streets, cold doorways
half open stores, partial windows
where is home turned into an old earth creation
ancient life in the skies bluegray and shinning heavenly stars
what blurs between reality and what lies beyond
I wonder at a strange and recovering life
existence the essential unity of all
where can we create home
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