Strayed Poems - Poems about Strayed

Silenced like a strayed sheep, With no place to go, All my friends in the heap, Are strangers that I know. They see my pain and move on, In a line and in a row, All my friends in the heap, Are strangers that I know. We shared sun and rain, Stayed like arrow & bow, All my friends in the heap, Are strangers that I...

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We gather in groups many to be sequestered as strayed sheep Haunted and shunned by the societies we love Who can we turn to to ease the burning pain of neglect and asylum Who is our border collie the light to wrestle us in against the turmoil of everyday life But still we stay strong as it is human nature to endure and lift ourselves...

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Along the roads of grassy fields where thousands of sheep flit from Astray from the flock, flouting, fleeing with fear blindly following. Driven through the streets of London at the Barnet fair to the farmers there. But the way, takes an insalubrious plot. Sheer confusion along the countryside sets in on the herd, then stray when eddying rapids currented by...

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WHAT? Oh, for cryin' out loud dude, not again! Nod off for one lousy hour and off go them mangy sheep. Now I ain't paid near enough to hafta chase these meanderin' beasts all over God's green earth. Shoot man, I got a life. Well, not really. But listen, I get me some serious leg...

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Straying away from the straight path in search of sumptuous grass, Me and my friends meander to the mountain top on a crisp clear sunny day, The cottony white clouds mirror our soft tufts of wool, The sea is calm today, unlike us, who are restless; Raff rests his weary head on Walter, Sophie and Sara lay down side...

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Reigning in cluster the edge of steep scarp, the flock of mine sprawls so very proud. I’m a meek loner in the midst of them all, for each one is happy to be in the crowd. As I’m secluded in a ditch of sequestration, the kinship camaraderie they show with flair. For my innate nature I’m often jeered, since their line of...

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The scene of cliff, coast and a flock of sheep, a view of the blue ocean, sky, and wild mossy cliff; where sheep have strayed, too bewildered to leap, they stand, sleep, or sit among wildflowers and sniff. It was a case of follow the other perhaps in the rain, the painting by the artist is so gorgeous and vivid; now,...

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I am the unseen, resting amongst invisible butterflies, waning amidst wildflower wishes~ facing watercolor breezes, drifting between the sun and the sea, where the wind collaborates with the salt and skin of waves, like forbidden lovers engrossed in euphoric zest… I sing in silence with sanctified verses, where zephyrs breathe amongst paralyzed procrastinators, following a flock of clichés, amidst the slippery slope of rocky edges, veiling...

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Cliff hanger story - Freshly shorn scrawny Steady assembly ruptured Atop rocky bluff rugged Shivering survival questionable Seceder’s dream quenchable Reject herd abide proffer Select solo sailor prosper Convention no obstacle ...

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STRAYED SHEEP Today, we are all as strayed sheep Once together, and of one mind All have wandered and separated Finding independence is overrated Common values become conflated To such a life, many are resigned With different memories to keep What is family, it’s a difficult question All spread across the world we know Linked merely by digital conversation Different definition of a close relation Who is...

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A puzzled fold on a summit stands as though deserted. Though some seem cool, others look, by uncertainties, girted Is the shepherd careless or struggling with cares of his own? Staff and sandals are unseen. None of his features are known. Grass seems grazed. No streams are found. Some are tired. Some suffer thirst. With a scare of wolves in...

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Where is the shepherd Who left behind his livestock At the Lover's Seat? The hired hand sleeps Inattentive to the flock The sheep go their way They are unaware There is danger near the cliffs Though the grass is sweet Where is the Shepherd Will he retrieve his people From the Sinner's Seat? ...

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One of their own had wandered far; the others know it strayed away. From the high cliff, they stare and wait for the lone sheep that went astray. Yet there below, alone he roams perhaps a longing to be free and find new...

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They wander, free range sheep, Following a breeze, a wafting scent Clover…perhaps More likely the innate call To roam In search of themselves. Freedom, a dubious destination As jagged cliffs O’erlook the crushing surf Escape An unknown dream For wind and tide And nature Call them Home. ...

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Walk on by as I sit upon a ledge of self-destruction. I seek no sympathy, just a hand to hold and to pull me from the edge. I am deserving Aren't I? Those so-called words they forcefully allege Stepping forward by myself Never will I follow the leader, But this I will instead,...

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