Just outside Mountain, Wisconsin
the forest lies. It invites me inside
to hear the stories, it longs to tell.
Around a curve a puddle of water
from a fall of rain.
At each turn I never knew
what I would find.
A photo of a bear in the dark
is posted at the gas station.
The clerk said it is deep
within the forest when I
stopped inside for a snack.
No one can say for certain
where the forest ends.
I’m going inside to see
what it reveals. Another level
of secrets lies in undergrowth.
All trees stretch their arms
upward reaching for the sun.
I’m driving around the state
to find my time and place.
Lands once stripped, replanted
in a public works project
during the Great Depression
to give the land new life.
A glance through a crown
shows the sun as it shines on me.
Each morning asks me to start again
after I step outside the motel.
In the forest deeply hidden
There is a place that looks forbidden
To be seen by the naked eye
So peaceful a place as you pass by
Buried beneath the trees and flowery surround
Where trickling water the only sound
Nature has produced a miniature waterfall
Through a hole in the earth, not big, just small
A cascade of loveliness amongst the flowers
The water flows for hours and hours
Its watery spray the elixir of life it would seem
To the flowers its misty dampness a life giving dream
The Rocks down which it flows today
For many years have paved the way
To guide the waters downward spiral at ease
Like in a painting, an artist’s mural set in the breeze
Where it goes is anyone’s guess
It disappears, reappears somewhere else I guess
It has probably been there for a thousand years or more
Another opening of nature’s door
The window of magic she weaves constantly
Moreover, will always be a mystery to you and me
Muddy paw prints, feathery tufts
Last night's adventures across my stuff
A cat whose wondering
Led to unknown murdering
A crime scene on my kitchen floor
A fluffy tail swishing out the door
Goldberg fiddles, twirling his pastrami
Hears tell of this new Mayor Mamdani
Who would love to say farewell
To the State of Israel
Chicken soup replaced by a tsunami
The city lights are often burning bright
but who may meet in shadows of the night?
Around the corner lovers locked embrace
or homeless, roaming streets to find a place.
The bustle of the people passing through
some slowly strolling down an avenue
All mysteries of the city nights are shelved
tight secrets all within its borders held.
Somehow, this view left me discovering
That meeting in the dark’s another thing.
Haven't i been in this scene before?
Didn't i just pass through the previous scene's door?
Am i doomed to repeat my folly?
Slamming into where i didn't know the wall be
With any intentions spilling on to the floor.
A scene
serene
clear stream
day’s dream
a tree
I see
I sit
by it
sun shines
on vines
birds fly
sky high
I hear
sounds near
bird’s tweet
so sweet
thicket’s
crickets
they trill
goodwill
all this
brings bliss
*********************************
**sky dons *s*a*p*p*h*i*r*e* sheen**
*********************************
*********************************
flowers e^x^ p^ l^o^ d^ e s>p>l>i>t colors
((()))
~~~~scent of spring ~~~~r i p p l e s~~~~
~~~~((((((())))))~~~~~
~~~((((((((( II )))))))))~~~~~
II
II
II
==========
Spring
sunburst
sky sparkles,
unfurled buds smear
petals with bright hues,
fragrant zephyr
resonates
song of
spring.
Across the snow covered country land,
a rural scene with mountains and a barn stands
The valley holds the frozen river below,
and silence surrounds where I stand with what I know
Winter scenes bring impeccable beauty with peace
Like no other season I encounter in my fleece
All is still, like a lasting snapshot to keep,
in my memory during times that I may weep
But, answers to questions are frozen, alright for now
Because one day they will melt, exposing everything somehow
Heidi Sands
2/4/26
(C)opyright
There I was,
Horned out like a crooked starch in the dark,
Praying my way to the middle room.
Turn left right up the back of the front stairs,
and that’s when I knew things would never be the same.
Down the hallway towards the stink.
Reality freezes...............
ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK
ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK ZERO O'CLOCK
The longer in silence, the more you truly see,
that life is truly, both you and me.
Nothing matters, as it did before,
the day I walked in silence’s door.
You become center of attention you see,
what moves about, is you and me.
There are time’s I feel, I went so away,
and yet in one place, I seem to stay.
The silence, it has its little games, you see,
it has a way of pushing back, against you and me.
The longer you stay, the more clear you can see,
life is in the living, how it’s mean’t be.
To be wise as a serpent, harmless as a dove,
knowing that the Father, watches from above.
It’s not those things around me, no matter what they be,
it’s how I perceive it, make it reality.
It’s my shadow, that’s always hid away,
you’ll only see him, on a sunny day.
In the silence, things are different you see,
the changes silence holds for you and me.
If for yourself you truly care, silence is the best thing with self you could share.
I’m just saying, ya know what I mean,
it will be to late when we split the scene.
The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and forgotten summers. Light fractured through the roots of a tree, casting ghosts of an abundant life. Sharing a breath of dreams cut short by the ambitions of others – comfort in the knowledge of a life lived to the best of one’s ability.
just sitting with someone
in a time of
S T R E S S
words are
superfluous …
Flee the scene
before the dawn
frames the escape.
Treat with plenty of faith
& you can suspend belief,
like the irony
in how it takes a cynic
to persuade.
Poetic contracts speak
for a Man,
and a lord,
between a grave;
wonders death doesn’t come
when you’re aware of some strings,
even when waves roll back,
they tend to more often break
solely to come back again
and continue to take.
A power
to turn entire coasts
into the oceans deep.
A power
of breaking chains,
and setting free
the wings of angels
and their screams,
by tossing their guarded
and posts
into the tides
of the seas.
You’re not fleeing the scene
you’re redirecting,
and setting a stage.
Think again…
or, for once
and breathe.
Remember
of the unintended shadows
fallen in between
the ideas,
the words,
and the worlds of things.
You’re only claiming
of what you can’t see
of what we can’t know.
Anything can rise out.
Anything can become again.
That’s the curse of hope
that can never leave.
Let it go
And let it be.
What a sham,
I’m still fleeing the scene.
There was this man of loud theater
Who died acting in elevator
And pressed the lift button
To go straight to heaven…
Suspense, what might happen?
Not what so ever can,
For, a curtain was called thereafter.
_______________________
Limerick | 04.12.2025 | death, drama, heaven, humour
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.