Valleys Poems - Poems about Valleys

he never learnt to fight back he never learnt to give up as well he climbed the mountains with a weight on his back he jumped from the mountains and into the valley but still survived living a life with no place to die i recall the last words he died fighting bravely in the war a child born under dark clouds you were never the problem i...

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he is always mad at his own child for the stones that come his way but his child will forever be grateful for what he has done for him he is always mad at his own child the one he raised under his roof to make him into a man, only to crush him under his own trauma now grown into an adult he...

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We've traveled many roads, some steep and long, kept steadfast on our walk, forever so strong. Through our ups and downs, we traveled this road, for all those times we carried life’s heavy load. Valleys and peaks may have always been there, with courage we walked, not always with despair. Below those peaks, shines a...

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All things great and small He made them all God made them all Those lives that are secure Like a heart that is so pure He made them all God made them all For salvation for the least He gives them all a great peace He made them all God made them all When you're in the valleys low And you don't know where to go He...

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In the quiet corridors of my mind, where thoughts flow like rivers through ancient valleys, I ponder the nature of wars and the battles fought not for land, but for the dominion of words. Language, the most lethal weapon forged by man, sharp as any blade and subtle as a whisper, Cuts through the fabric of reality, shaping...

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dry thirsty valleys sheltered by high dreams around ~empty rivers through~ grey sorrows slide down the big warm naked mountains ~stormy above us~ hopes paint a rainbow ~pouring raindrops from heaven~ quenched mouths for a while ...

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In the deep valleys of the spirit, where dreams boil in the overflowing cup of consciousness, I wander aimlessly, seeking countless treasures not in gold, but in scattered words. There is no money in poetry, only echoes of emotions woven through the fine threads of time, Like an ephemeral butterfly, flying over the green fields of my soul. Where...

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In the twilight valleys where shadows weave endless tapestries, Where the breath of dusk embroiders the horizon in shades of evening, A hermit dreams, his window an eternal portal flung wide open, To skies where eternity whispers secrets to the gathered stars. He is the sole architect of the divine murmur, Casting his heart as a sacred manuscript upon the...

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A new day of change, the process is near, Valleys rise to meet the sky so clear, Mountains are made low, in humbling grace, Paths once blocked, now are cleared space. Where once we couldn’t go, now access find, Yesterday’s hard places, now bloom in mind, Sparking heart’s desires, like flames anew, Breaking barriers, breaking through. Walk to the beat of your own...

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On the pathways in the valleys, where the sun weaves with the eaves' shadows, April's flickers spill to adorn the pale oases. Winter's shadows are extinguished, broken in the wait for buds to bloom, Melting away in the golden dawns, lofty beneath the proud morning's loom. The industrious rays of the sun begin to sprinkle golden threads Over the endless...

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Those highs and lows Peaks and valleys Appear to be arising.. It is the script which Seems as a script Or seems not..these "Seemings" are Simply not two.. Rendering the scripts Filled with the Freedom of what is Unknowable... ...

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Through the valleys of shadow where longing enthrones its reign, I have come to you, in search of the elixir of forgetfulness' gain, Heart healer, mend my suffering with a phoneme's mend, Banish the storm of feelings, that prison of mourning without end. At your altar of blood and crystal, I have taken my vow, Please offer me a mystical...

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As some traditional leaders joining some politicians their people finding screaming in deep valleys  On the trolleys and no one to uplifting them quickly....

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How do I start this story, Let’s begin with an optimistic reader, Who happens to be my brother, I got to tell you I really revere him He says when you’re on top of the hill, You never acknowledge the valley, Let alone thank it for existing, Yet without it your hill wouldn’t be real, Your hill would be nill. And...

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In parts of Derbyshire and Yorkshire there are still pit-valleys, where industry and nature collide, marry, and have their natural born children. The earth once gouged, raped and laid desolate, is landscaped by those who once despoiled. Time plays its part, plants its seeds, it up-roots high piled slagheaps, softens broken mountains of concrete. I have walked these valleys, in some I had to stumble...

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