Starting Over Poems - Poems about Starting Over

Glimpse of tears, dewlike, crystals Painting moments in gossamer webs, Defeated dreams and lingering prayers, In voices of gentlest grace, Stirring souls with sensitive prose, Poetry in stolen sighs, Stories so alive, faithful and bright, Birthed in halos like milky pearls, Moonbeams and stars, Grieved by the hearts who sing, In soft winds, Remembering the tones Breathed beyond the azure sea, Where yesterday believes Yes, the heart still...

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I have seen that house a hundred times, The one upon which the old vine climbs. So poignant and so melancholy, That place had once been the omphali. Now it was abandoned, dark, and drear And seeing it made me shed a tear. I always wondered what sort of joy, And happiness the house did enjoy. Was there pain and hurt and deep...

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Some kids sleep To sounds beating Beating scared hearts Beating man starts Beating woman scarred Beating black tar Racing for life Faking out time Speeding the night Open eyes fright Closing blue eyes Praying through cries Hearts hopes dream Perseverance purple green Arch angel wings Borrowed brown blessings Morning raises shade Man still raged Kids know stay Sleep until safe “Woman come back!” Clothes are packed She leaves, kids go too Man looks doomed Police were called Red...

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My mind is made up leaving all the bad behind wiping the slate clean...

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Sometimes life leads us to start over and wipe the slate clean...

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The bird sheds the feathers, of Autumn's pain Welcoming winter, with open wings Scents change, with the new breeze...

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Start over This breath is new Even for the despicable Breathe Start over This cup of coffee is new Like never before Drink Reborn again This body is dry again The wine in new skin As Christ promised Reborn again Temptations made new Baptized by Pinot Noir Humbled If only I would believe I come out the womb again And again If only I could believe In faith in...

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When he had gone off, Amos did come in, Aaid, “I wish we didn’t have to lie to him” Joanne just scoffed, “He’s kept me here six years, rather than be man enough to cry tears. Nearly ruined me, he too has much sin.” Now ‘Gunther’ it seemed did much love his wife, each year he ‘returned’ and she bore new...

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“Harlot! How dare you betray my dear son! Now bearing a damned vagrant’s little one!” But Joanne cocked her head, looked quite confused, “But father wherever did you hear such news?!” And then affected to look rather stunned. “The evidence is clear,”he said pointing, to where her stomach was round with swelling. Joanne just laughed, and said, “Oh dear, father, don’t you know...

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Some people did gossip, but Amos played the part of a shy, young man seeking pay, desperate for work, and with nowhere to go, some laughed at this, and he let them do so, knowing what waited at home every day. Beyond that he dealt with Preacher John’s sneers, learned his routine, so he would not be near, not have to deal...

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A naughty glimmer then came to her eyes, she grabbed her man’s wrist, and led him inside, and for a month this arrangement went smooth, sure, some people talked, but naught could they prove, until Preacher John saw things with his own eyes. Three weeks later came that stern and tall man, frowned when he saw Amos clearing the land, he said...

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..But when he looked at her, sad as she was, he knew he just couldn’t leave it because she fired in him something way down deep, entered his dreams when he lay down to sleep, stirred in him something much deeper than lust. “I wish I could help resolve all your woes, I can’t, but I’ll still help you with these...

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“I haven’t seen you at all in the town, never got the chance to talk until now.” He introduced himself, she did the same, but he struggled to get more than her name, of strangers Joanne seemed nothing but down. Rebuffed in this way, he hemmed and he hawed, no good way to get to know her he saw, but Amos was...

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It was back about 1803, there stood a small cabin near to the sea, where a widow lived by the name of Joanne, who could not grieve for the death of her man, since six years back he’d vanished completely. Now Joanne was about thirty-two when she came within Amos Delby’s view, a young man who was younger by ten years, new to...

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Starting over, nothing more. Search the path that you explore. Learn the things that put you there. Remember how you went before. The chosen path may not be fair, And side-to-side cannot compare, Make your own; stay on the trail. Don’t turn around in great despair. And when you live to tell the tale, You’ll see desire shall not fail, Live and learn and don’t...

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