And if I wouldn’t see you there
I wouldn’t know the sense
Here comes the meaningless nowhere
Presenting its offence
Aren’t we just names imprinted by
A memory that fades
But then it suddenly revives
And I can see your face
There was a time for us to share
Our garden was in bloom
Then came that letter from nowhere
It flew into your room
It didn’t say the time has come
Though, on the other hand,
I felt that something must be done
But failed to understand
The clocks were chiming rather loud
The wind was blowing high
Last time we talked there was no sound
You sang no lullaby..
We are the darkened sky I keep
I never let us go
The coastal waters become deep
The seagulls fly too low..
It was nearly without sound,
Save a tree-brushed mountain breeze
When I rose beneath fog's blanket
And stepped lightly through the trees.
In reverence of the aura there
Subdued in temperance;
Without a word, just in tears
I offered holy reverence.
Before me in this quiet place
A lake, in still perfection,
Lay without the slightest wave;
Heaven's mirror gave reflection.
As I gazed into the glassy lake
My soul and spirit swooned
With God's creation holding me
He healed my hidden wounds.
No greater ambiance nor scene
Has since renewed my core.
I found the Prince of Peace that morn
On a pristine mountain shore.
Next, the sun began to rise
And the Quakies clapped their hands
Creation birthed a brand-new day
And I began to understand:
God is a God of perfect peace
Who in countless ways can bless
Whether heaven sent or by a stream
He gives the seeker rest.
If your world has left you wounded,
"Come unto Me, sons and daughters"
God offers early morning grace
To bless beside still waters.
Psalms 23: 2 (KJV) “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;
He leadeth me beside still waters.”
On waters, ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ sunset so purple,
¦¦¦ sings ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ smashed wings' ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ it claims,
¦¦¦ bloody set of ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ flames,
¦¦¦ death ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ with fear, ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ of lovers’,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ with prophetic truth
¦¦¦ lips that ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ foam covers!...
(Blackout of Gamajun the Prophetic Bird by Aleksandr Blok)
baptismal waters
anoint our first and last breaths
another folly
As grasses, trembly-tender
Blown, and holy, through
Topped with flowers, at its base
Do we mark their fall.
Stand, you men, as sensitive
Here, 'mongst us, upbent
With that instilled spirit's means
Makes reverential?
REFLECTED WATERS
distinguish
paridisal
feelings
knowing
perceiving
speculative
portions
subsumed
in
unpredejudiced
awareness
seeing
with
visionary
interchangeable
coherence
from
achievements
wholeness
to anticipate
learned
linguistic
language
evolved
externalities
convince
deviation
&
aberration
with
genuine
feelings
Muddy waters makes dirty tea
a glass half full is still half empty
Only love can mend a broken heart whole
and only love can break a heart so
To be first will someday pass
others better will make you last
To tell a lie can ease the truth
Baby Ruth was named for Babe Ruth
Texting while driving where does it lead
six feet under in the cemetery
I drink my coffee black with sugar and cream
if whispers aren't heard better scream
Silly is silly and fun at times
it's even better if it rhymes.
How do you go from what you know
To a place you've never been
I trusted in the flow of water
To quench thirst again...and again
This time is different, without a grid
To weigh and measure progress
No anchor for this vessel
To feel safe where a nomad could finally rest
Provision changed to daily bread
The system of fear is finally gone
His mercies are new each morning
Bringing peace from darkness to dawn
It's the judgment that kept me away
It stymied movement in what should be
WORD requires one to follow
Without confirmation from brothers in ministry
No money, no car, no home, no job
The four walls have become flying air
What is the point of true freedom
If no mark in time can define when soul is "there"
Just over the threshold of the new
We wait for the water to move us on
So difficult, for thoughts to cease
When the old ways are still not gone
Written by Trudy Schrader on 06-01-2026
gracing our waters
wearing your stripes with pride
far from dry grasslands
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
I don’t mean to sound selfish
But I often wonder if my name floats through your conversations
Like a ship on calm waters
In this land’s crevices the clear waters seep
These shallow waters that runneth so deep
Gushing on forward with its own natural force
It has made its own path, its own life’s course
Cascading over layers of shallow stepped rock
Surrounded by nature’s own tree lined copse
One can only admire it in its wonderment & awe
This unassuming place of beauty felt to its core
It’s as though the river is taking its own small leap of faith
Before cascading into the pool below in its own grace
Where it has been reinvigorated into a more calmer state
Before descending further down the river at its own pace
Just a precious moment in time captured with my own eyes
Absorbing all of its beauty before saying my last good-byes
aquatic palace
world of fins and scales
and shiny fish hooks
My eyes are uncharted waters that you must cross
All men are fallible..I am one.' That is why I
Advocate, you accept Gods Son..Admit you
Are but human, and have failed; and will fail, beg Jesus His forgiveness, and take His Holy trail.'
The rivers cough,
Their waters grey and sulk,
With exhaustion bitting at the banks,
That once held children's laughter.
The lethargic trees wear ashes like armour,
Leaves brittle, whispering warrnings,
That no one listens to.
Drifting smoke climbing like a theif,
Stealing the blue from the sky,
Painting the sun in dull bruises, where
We pretend not to see.
Even the weak wind carries a taste, of
Metal and sadness;
The birds sing quieter than ever,
There wings heavy with weight of
A world forgetting how to breath.
Yet somewhere beneath the ground the
Earth still hums softly,
Waiting for hands that will not choke it.
For mouths that will speak before the last
River sleeps.
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.