When he leaves
It takes everything in me
To not follow
If he can’t lead
So far east
That the sun too flees
From mornings of sorrow
For westward peace
And it soothes to be held
To be loved like I am someone else
Still the fool, never quelled
Loving him as I should myself
Categories:
westward, heartbreak, hurt, sad love,
Form: Free verse
Westward wanderlust,
Wagon waltzes with Winter wine,
White watercolor walleye, windy-wallop.
Wading where wafers wage war,
Where warmth wanes without warning.
Wary whispers; weather will weather, whatnot.
Categories:
westward, imagery, snow, western, wind,
Form: Tautogram
Westward
in the winter mist
unwavering
wing-beat rhythm
thrusting
purposeful
powerful
pale creatures
of a pale world,
outstretched
magnificence
reshaped
from the haughty elegance
of arched necks
and curved wing-folds
white
on a summer’s placid lake.
On a cold foggy morning in Dorset, England, in January, 1992, I heard the distinctive wingbeats of swans approaching. Three of them passed by just to the north of me, giving me a very brief view before they merged back into the mist.
What a wonderful privilege to delight in God’s Creation!
Categories:
westward, beauty, bird, creation, england,
Form: Free verse
In the dance of thoughts, we twirl,
a symphony of whispered musings.
Words, delicate as a butterfly's kiss,
flutter from our lips, sometimes exquisite,
sometimes in the gentle decay of letters.
Oh, how we interweave with the tapestry
of our innermost reflections,
uttering soliloquies to the silent echoes.
Each syllable, a gem of contemplation,
we carefully place within the gardens
of afterthoughts, a secret burial ground.
Speak, ethereal Shadow,
your stillness a reflection of my motion,
a silent dialogue in the theatre of existence.
You breathe life into ages I struggle to fathom,
yet here, in the rhythmic cadence of breaths,
I persist, a witness to the art of living.
"The world unfurls, a canvas of cerulean,
moving in tandem with clouds and oceans,
westward to east, a celestial waltz."
Such is the grandeur of our cosmic ballet,
where time pirouettes in endless grace.
:: November 14, 2023 ::
Categories:
westward, poetry,
Form: Free verse
As the scorching earth turns the parched earth to dust,
Making each day an effort to continue yet we know we must.
Behind them was Missouri and the life we had,
It was a happy life until things went bad.
Papa tried to make it work and for a while he did.
It was not long after the war things changed,
It soon was noted that nothing would ever again be the same.
It was mama who suggested it was time to move on.
So in this wagon that now serves as our home,
With three hundred other souls we travel along.
Categories:
westward, adventure, history, journey,
Form: Rhyme
Wagons packed, gunny sacked
Wheat flour, beans, preserves
Wild nature sojourning
Worn axles, oxen, health
Winter weather challenge
Wealth aspiring visions
Wonder-filled golden hills
5-10-2021
Plieades W Contest
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Categories:
westward, adventure, america, dream, environment,
Form: Pleiades
The Westward Wind
The westward wind whistled,
As it whisked wildly pass,
Weeping willow trees.
Weary eyed women watched,
As winters wayward wrath,
Wreaked havoc through its breeze.
Waffling warm winds weaving,
As wounded workers,
Walked, the winding path.
Wailing Whippoorwills whispered,
Welcoming words of warmth,
From the westward winds aftermath!
Written: 3/17/16 ©
Submitted for contest: Elements Part 2: Wind
Sponsored by: Brian Davey
Categories:
westward, nature, weather, wind,
Form: Alliteration
(Blank Verse Sonnet)
The wagons slice a trail across the plains
in search for gold or land to claim and build
abodes where independence rules supreme;
my great-grandfather leads them west for gain
all while his wife and sons work on the farm.
The trails he carves become long rails of iron
throughout a nation sworn by force of law –
that each man’s peace now lies within his hands.
Yet greed breeds theft, and swag digs ugly wounds
across the land where freedom banners wave;
while bondage of the poor and frail prevails
and brother murders brother, flushed with rage.
A government now sets the bar too high,
as mothers, east to west, spill bitter tears.
.
Categories:
westward, betrayal, conflict, family, grandfather,
Form: Sonnet
The ground is damp
it bleeds through my thin cotton skirt.
Crest born, I sit and wait the dawn.
My fingers weave into the high rye grass.
The house below is quiet still.
The children sleep.
The dog’s with me.
We sit high upon the hill.
Peaceful heart, Venus I spy
the morning star, the moon, and dawn,
God could see them in my eyes a tilt.
Barefoot bliss, Champ for a pillow
down I lie and sigh.
The children sleep.
My man’s returned.
Now, we sit high upon the hill.
He lies with me. Grass stains my skirt.
He weaves dewed daisies in my hair.
Crest born we writhe beneath the sky
above our farm on prairie grass.
The house below is quiet still.
The children sleep.
The dog runs home.
We sit high upon the hill.
Contest: Into Night's Dwelling
Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Date: 1/8/14
Categories:
westward, devotion, love, peace,
Form: Free verse
The Quakers, being religiously persecuted, set sail from expatriated England;
they were the first settlers to reach the shore of New England: a free land!
Later the Puritans came and settled in other eastern, bustling colonies
seeking the same religious freedom, but their urge was stronger than dreams.
Many moved westward on foot, on horseback and on overloaded wagons...
exploring the American wilderness plundered by indigenous Indians;
they searched for grassland everywhere, to let their cattle roam and graze;
first they built wooden shacks on vast, lush prairies full of Queen Ann's Lace.
And out of this American westward expansion, came the fearless pioneers,
who sought gold mines...despite the wild cowboys causing troubles
with heavy drinking and desire for unscrupulous women, seeking money and pleasure,
who served them more whisky and lured them to a room with a demeaning measure.
Beyond the Rocky Mountains' and the Appalachians Mountains' skies,
these diligent pioneers obtained wealth with sweat and sacrifices...
changing and shaping the wild landscapes of arable land,
avoiding the drudgery of getting stuck in mud and sand.
Categories:
westward, cowboy-western, family, food, history,
Form: Quatrain
F O H N
G U S T
V A L E
G A L E
Categories:
westward, nature
Form: Shape
Onward my westward sun
But before you fade away
Tell me you shall rise again
To light my way for many days to come.
Awake me and tell me it is not the end
Let the gloom of night cloak me
But only for a passing wind.
So then the breeze of the east takes off my night's garment
And along with the song of a whipporwill
Revive my spirit upon every hill.
For as long as I am alive
Each morning I shall breathe in this life
With all the magic of a tequila sunrise.
Categories:
westward, adventure, imagination, inspirational, uplifting,
Form: Free verse
Sails unfurled in disarray
Helm unheld to swing away
Canting yaw in surf wet roll
This ship of state without a goal
Some would call this gone adrift
While fools would call it freedom
Some of us are somewhat miffed
While shoals just wait to see them
Passengers without a clue
Trusting to a motley crew
Of greed crazed re-elected fools
Who just ignore their rusted tools
And shed their blame by pointing
And know they're worth anointing
Categories:
westward, natural disasters,
Form: Sonnet