The street commenced,
and the unseen oval behind
triggered the turning heads.
The eerie breeze tested
the thin cotton’s hold.
With every careful step ahead,
the sliding eyes roamed.
A sight that stirred
the stillness of cloth
searched for the valley
where the night could lie.
Behind that valley
a trembling heart waited,
counting the steps remaining.
Waves rose and fell
within the restless mind,
reminding her
of the ship
that had once stayed strong.
a smile
in a sunny way
lodged in
the receiver’s heart
~ forever stayed
He loved her in a world that forgets too easily,
not like a moment, but like something that never learned to end.
She lived in him through distance, silence, and everything unsaid,
never his, yet never gone—
and somehow, that was enough for his forever.
I moved forward,
Tepid, yet careful.
But she stood where I left her,
At the edge of a brave choice.
She was braver,
Louder,
Unapologetically alive.
Perfect, like the first rain after a long drought!
And me?
A "maybe later."
A "be realistic."
A "don't be dramatic."
I called it growth,
She called it "fear."
And now she visits me,
In quiet hours, when the house is asleep.
I feel her there!
Still waiting,
For me;
To turn around!
Beauty isn’t the shine.
It’s what comes after--
when something still holds
in the quiet.
It lives in a chair
pulled out for someone tired,
in fruit split open
because it’s ready.
Beauty does not rush.
It stays in ordinary things,
long enough
for us to notice.
A clean cup.
A sure hand.
Light resting
on what stayed.
Nothing needs to be noticed,
what is here is enough.
I moved with Time—
its pulse a shadow
beneath my ribs—
until sunlight fractured glass
and thou appeared,
a sudden flame
spilling laughter
across
the hollow of my chest.
I tried to hold it,
fingers damp with warmth,
yet it slipped—
as water flees
the novice’s grasp.
Thy breath lingered in my palms,
thy sorrow curling within mine,
and for a moment
the world itself paused
to witness
what I could not name.
I might have walked,
joined the tide,
yet awe, stubborn as a child,
rooted me to one glance,
one impossible, human weight of being.
The tiny shop was nestled in the historic Strand Arcade
and on every shelf, a treasured item was carefully laid.
On a gramophone, a seventy eight record was played.
Such a grand, delightfully soothing ambiance it made.
Curiosity drew me to examine everything displayed,
through piles of old clothes I could painstakingly wade.
There were wonderful period dresses of dainty brocade,
Gentleman's coats so well made of waterproof suede.
The softness of a Dior silk scarf with the edges frayed.
To be found, fine jewellery with precious gems inlaid.
There was a pendant and earings all fashioned in jade,
with a necklace that ornately allowed pearls to cascade.
Seeing the Aladdin's lamp, my joy was outweighed.
Presented in a velvet lined box, definitely first grade.
I was curious as to how much that needed to be paid.
Approached the owner, the price, hoping to persuade.
Maybe you were right all the times,
Silent truths hidden in your rhymes.
Whispers lost in crowded halls,
Echoes fading off the walls.
Nobody saw it that way,
Blind eyes chose to look away.
Judgments made in haste and pride,
Truths dismissed, shoved aside.
But one soul stood, clear and bright,
A steady beacon in the night.
All you needed was a listener's ear,
To hold your words, to keep them near.
What could I have said to make you stay —
Would you have paused for me that day?
You were the wind, and I was still —
How could you rest upon my hill?
So many words were lost in eyes,
Our silence spoke, yet time defies.
I wished you’d linger, hold the hue,
But fate had other plans for you.
Your laughter still lives in my air,
Each evening whispers you were there.
I tried to hold you, heart would say —
“What’s meant to leave will fade away.”
And yet I wonder, time and again,
If you had stayed — would love remain?
Everyone slept after spilling their pain
into arms that held them without asking,
while I sat wide awake,
longing for someone who never came
to ask me how I was holding myself together.
If only someone had been mine,
maybe sleep would’ve held me too.
But every time I get close—
they remind me gently, cruelly,
that solitude stings less
than love that leaves mid-sentence.
I never pushed anyone away,
never closed the door.
It’s just that hearts grow full,
and when they do,
they walk out—
without looking back,
without checking
if I had more to say.
And still, I stay.
Still hoping the next one might stay too.
In English, we say:
"I can't stop thinking about you."
But in poetry, we say:
I know we just met,
but I couldn't sleep last night—
your voice played on repeat in the quiet corners of my mind.
This morning, I kept wondering...
how it feels when someone runs their fingers through your hair,
how your heart responds to a touch that speaks without words.
What do you grab to eat when you're rushing out the door?
How do you look with sleep in your eyes and your hair in beautiful disarray?
I know it's too soon,
but I don’t want to let you drift away.
I know we just met, but last night you kept me awake ----
The trees grows tomorrows leaves
it's yesterday and Spring was here
it waited for the Summers Eve
and Autumn's spread of gourd ease
and winter's rest on Christmas gifts
a world of wander opens the gate
and behold their living past are
now at last alive again into your
loving open arms and you are
mindless to stench of their
scent turned to zombies
and start eating your flesh.
Well, that's a new version
of your dear precious Terra
or is it Terror, well it's my turn
Frankly I don't give a dang!
Wooo--tossed your cookies have you!
I left my state to study afar.
A church college lured me to go west
where it’s so dry and no fireflies are.
But I was young and followed no star
that could lead me to what would be best.
I left with no really firm goal.
A psychology major I’d thought
to pursue. My apathetic soul
got off that bus. A different role
I took when a new bus I caught!
Off this new bus, I found myself flung
onto a path I had never thought of -
to ESL teaching I then swung.
Also I fell into marriage quite young
and always lived far from kinfolk I love.
What if I had never moved away?
Was my aimlessness part of my fate?
Would I be happier living today
where all through my youth I used to play?
One can’t know what one can’t recreate.
Home cooked meals daily
cleaned, dried, and pressed laundry hung
body heat from sheets
Grandpa tomato worm was once again sorry today
That he had switched to apples last Thursday.
Tomatoes were easy, you could chew them up fast.
Chewing up a hard apple is a strenuous task!
I wish I had stayed around to get my raise Grandpa worm said.
His old boss was holding a grudge; her face got all red.
You were the one who left, she said. Have a great life!
It got worse when he got home, for she was his wife.
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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.