I recently went walking
On grounds around a lake,
Pristine as the morning dew,
Pure beauty mine to take.
The silence there was deafening
The purity profound,
And the meaning of life itself
Was all around.
Not even birds could quite be heard
Or the humming of the bees,
As I was lost in time and space
Where I never felt so free.
I felt the breeze inside of me
In each heartbeat and breath I took,
As Love revealed from a bottle unsealed
With new eyes through which to look.
Although alone, forever at home
No one to interfere,
With whom, why, what or where I was
To see the world so clear.
The sky so blue I felt imbued
With traces of the immortal,
And rendezvoused with family and friends
Somehow through this lake’s portal.
And wandered ‘round so quite unbound
In body, mind and soul,
Until waking from this splendid dream
And feeling lost and cold.
© Terrell Martin, 03/12/2025
I found a poem the other day
By someone I knew well,
A lady of grace and beauty beyond
Anything my mind could tell.
We were all but friends out on the fringe
Between true love and something less,
She was a princess from another world
And I, a pauper in distress.
She spoke like an angel from heaven
And didn’t seem to care at all,
That I was a wayward traveler
Hoping to be her bell at the ball.
We played tug of war with our feelings
Both giving and taking them back,
Always leaving my heart a ‘reeling
While I wondered how she felt about that.
But always did she answer
In a circuitous kind of way,
While giving a coy and curious look
As if wanting to dance and play.
Although delighted with our arrangement
Obligations spoiled the game,
As she was betrothed to another
And I a mere flickering flame.
As time ran out and she left me
A poem of pure beauty and class,
Saying “I’m sorry and always will love you”
And that’s more than enough to last.
© Terrell Martin, 03/09/2025
Too many days I’ve watched you from afar
And carried you like feathers all around
More lovely than the light from distant stars
And soft as flower petals scattered ‘round.
And saw you as someone who just might be
Still looking for more love somewhere inside
The mirror image of someone like me
To lift you up and spread your wings to fly.
And free you from your dismal prison cage
Where time was torture of the fiendish kind
Until you saw the light of love one day
In the eyes of another soul like mine.
No longer must we walk this earth alone
With you, dear love I know I’m always home.
© Terrell Martin, 02/25/2025
I often wonder if it’s worth the effort
with a keyboard or paper and pen
to pour out my thoughts, heart, mind and soul
from the ocean and rivers within
The marrow in my bones
hidden deep within these veins
“This universe is a miracle,”
I’ve heard Einstein once proclaimed
Though admittedly, I’m not near his kind
(far beyond my likes, by stars)
I merely try to follow those
I think know where they are
A few more miles ahead of time
“Out yonder,” my dad would say
where I can only dream of writing
a splendorous sonnet someday
Or perchance a valediction poem
a goodbye to the past
or my rendition of a benediction
thanking Hymn for all the love that lasts
And open a few doors with some metaphors
enjambment or anapest
find inspiration from alliteration
while striving towards my best
Thus, here I rest in the morning air
inhaling hope, exhaling despair
as birds fly bye and gentle winds blow
and pray more thoughts of beauty will flow
© Terrell Martin, 02/25/2025
To all the poets near and far
Alive and well or beyond the stars,
I bid you peace, I bid you rest,
I bid you all the very best.
Life and death may er’ contain
All the fruits of love and rain,
Showered down upon you all:
Promethean poets, great and small.
Long before we learned to write
But felt inside that burning light,
To share all thoughts, hopes, sadness, dreams
Propitious poets bear it all it seems.
From long ago and far away
And right up through this very day,
Countless came and left their mark
And we too, shall make a lasting spark.
Perhaps a mere morsel, a line or two
That lands upon a mind imbued,
With someone who like you or me
Finds sublimity in words like these.
Though words are not real things we touch
Like rivers, rocks, seashells and such,
But point the way back deep inside
Where memories last and love abides.
But I for one am smaller yet
Then everyone I’ve ever met,
Who picked up paper, pen or quill
And found their calling in the still
Of quiet nights and early morns
Waiting for ideas unborn,
From spirits sweet and dewdrops soft
I bid you all good thoughts aloft.
© Terrell Martin, 02/21/2025
I watched a caterpillar climb a tree
Wondering why in the world not me,
Taking it as a fortuitous sign
While seeing that poor critter climb.
Holding my breath with squinted eyes
Thinking to myself, how very wise
We humans are by strange design
While seeing that poor critter climb.
Minute by minute in our eternal now
His journey and mine combined somehow,
Over the branches and through the vines
While seeing that poor critter climb.
Under summer skies and wandering winds
Waiting to see where his journey ends,
When butterfly wings suddenly spread
And that critter flies before my eyes, instead.
© Terrell Martin, 02/09/2025
Unquenching thirst in scorching sands
With doleful steps as if once banned,
From mother home, lost paradise
While wandering wayward days and nights.
As scorpions sting and vipers’ hiss
With broken bones and loneliness,
Filled with weeping, creeping, seeking
More, crawling ‘long the desert floor.
While raining rockets fill the skies
Smoke and ashes blind the eyes,
Hoping all the hellishness will end
Praying silently to ascend.
As dreams no longer ease the mind
And all the saints you once thought kind,
Have left you here to drift, bereft
A solitary soul, misfit.
In search of that lost pot of gold
The one they say is Mighty old,
And glistens with the light of love
Ubiquitous mystery, soaring dove.
Still stumbling, tumbling, moving on
Faith shattered, battered, nearly gone,
Yet mercifully a dimly lit discerning,
Incessant, quiescent,
Great yearning.
© Terrell Martin, 02/10/2025
The winter snow and freeze killed everything
I planted in the spring,
Rhododendrons, roses, Hawaii hibiscus
And the bougainvillea orange king.
Parsley, sage and thyme are gone,
Peony and pansies too,
The daisies died and I still sigh
For the loss of primrose blue.
No more azaleas or alyssum,
Passionflower or peppermint,
The coleus did not last nor sassafras,
And goodbye to rosemary’s scent.
And all the leaves on the lemon tree
Look more like a weeping willow,
Sagging sadly as if begging madly
To finally let her go.
But Spring is looming ‘round the bend
And new seeds await good earth,
To come alive in sun-filled skies
And signify life’s worth.
As all things come, and all must go
In a whisp of place and time,
Like flowers and plants in a cosmic dance,
The seasons of life are Sublime.
© Terrell Martin, 01/27/2025
Mornings are made for paper and pens
In the hands of a would-be scribe,
At each day’s awakening between sun and shade
And silence is coming alive.
From out of the dark, the touch of a spark
Of light on the distant shore,
This time of day has always been made
For would-be scribes for sure.
When the mourning doves and whippoorwills
Begin their ritual songs of life
Of cooing, wooing and renewing
Everything in sound or sight.
And the would-be scribe tries not to hide
His or her thoughts too deep,
But let them all rise like dew in the sky
And eagles to snowy mountain peaks.
Let the words come forth
Like cool water from a riverbed,
Bringing thoughtfulness, kindness and ponderings
Wherever hearts and minds are led.
Let no one cease this ancient peace
Of writing in early hours,
The writer’s way of flying away
Turning tragedy and tears into wildflowers.
Let their words be heard and hearts be stirred
In the twilight of the day,
Excelsior to the would-be scribes
And all they have to say.
© Terrell Martin, 01/25/2025
Another year older no balder –
dash,
Wishing I could write my life ('s)
perfect poem before I
pass
Out of this world to the other
side,
While dreaming of my mother
And can’t wait to
fly.
One more circle around the old solar
disk
And it won’t be long before I’m not forgetfully
missed.
Not that I’ve done momentous things
Deserving of remembrance too sad to
sing
But only that I’m still here today, thankfully
having another undeserved birth
day.
© Terrell Martin. 01/17/2025
I’m sorry I’m not by your side now;
I know you must be disappointed
Because I’ve chosen to spend my time alone this evening
Reading, writing and thinking
About how we’ve grown…
Old together over the years
Since I first laid eyes on you
And we held hands.
I hope you understand
It’s not that I don’t want to lay down by your side
And hold and comfort you,
It’s just, I’ve things on my mind
That are longing to come out
As if a flower is about to bloom.
And you know how when something’s
Bothering me or needs pondering,
I’m going to give it all I’ve got
Until I’ve been fulfilled
With all the yearning, burning in my mind and being.
And thank you for seeing
Me for being the man I am and you
For being the woman that you are…
My one and only bright and beautiful forever
Shining star.
© Terrell Martin, 01/10/2025
I’m going down to the river today
And talk to some old friends of mine;
Sit down by the water’s edge and watch the river roll and wind.
I pray to converse in the form of free verse
With all the residents around,
Who call it their home and are rarely alone, in the air or down on the ground.
I’ll spend a few moments in reverie deep
As if on some far away plane,
Thankful to be alive and breath all the sweet air in my veins.
And bow down my head to where I’ve been led
Through all these years come and gone,
For all the triumphs, tears and woes and those once loved and now gone.
Then lift my eyes beyond blue in the skies
And praise the Maker of all things,
This river of life, the darkness and light and reasons and seasons to sing.
Then say fare thee well to this riverside spell
And sanctum of meaningful peace,
And continue to roam in search of the home, forever this soul hopes to reach.
© Terrell Martin, 01/11/2025
A slumbering mind drifting in time, far out on the Ithacan shores,
Striving to sleep while trying to seek another pristine, poetic door.
With words of wonder, praying for plunder deep down in the cell’s domains,
Like Jonah in a whale, a humpback’s tail or looking out from a drop of rain.
Where insanity ensues the better of you and the pounding goes on and on
Like the drumbeat of a thousand drums beating out a brand-new song.
Tossing and turning, yawning and yearning for the perfect rhythm and rhyme,
Feeling defeated but not near retreated, seeking the soul of Devine.
While the muses fly in like sweet seraphim and you swear you can see the wings rise
Around in your head where you know you are led on a transcendental ride.
As the heart beats measured grasping for treasure you know is buried down deep
In the sands of time inside your mind still waiting for the soul to sleep.
And on it continues like a river you’ve been through: Deja vu again,
Nothing to do now but pray somehow, for this dreamscape never to end.
© Terrell Martin, 01/09/2025
There’s nothing better than a warm winter fire
Burning in the hearth at home,
With a cup of coffee and a book to read
Stirring one’s mind to roam.
To a realm of virtual reality
Where ideas take to flight,
Between a few pages lost in the ages
While reading by firelight.
It may be a new novel of love and romance,
Mired in political intrigue,
Or maybe a mystery, history or poetry
Like the tale of “Annabell Lee.”
Perhaps science, astronomy or psychology
Will suit some other tastes,
For the curious mind those kinds will find
Satisfaction made, in haste.
There are no limits to winter’s charm
When it comes to warming hearts,
With an open mind and a moment in time
We all can make new starts.
© Terrell Martin, 01/09/2025
Right when we think we’ve reached
A new plateau
In our hearts and minds,
When we believe we’ve risen
To a secret degree of sweet sublime…
One step closer
To that ghost within,
Another Johnny - come - lately
Steps right in.
Stealing the spotlight
From all our glory
And making us dream
Of a whole new story
About who we are
And where we’ve been
As a new star is born
And we bow to him.
His mind sparkles
Light a diamond jewel
Shining like the sun
And making us drool…
Wishful thinking
We could be so wise
But the truth of the matter
Is way up high…
Beyond the blue,
The moon and stars,
Others will outshine
No matter who we are.
In the morning frost or evening chill
A humble heart
Is the perfect pill
For jealous minds who must compare
Themselves to others
Are doomed to despair.
© Terrell Martin, 01/09/2025
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.