For decades they have known each other,
touching tears, flowers, gunpowder,
and grass on the same ground,
with their bellies.
So many journeys they have walked together,
scratches and dents telling tales of their perseverance
to face the day and night for decades.
Finally they rest together, closely knit on a wooden shoe-rack;
their final resting place.
Sometimes their owners put them on,
to remember how it was back in the days jazz
brought strangers together;
to remember the days neighbors randomly
visited each other, with ready-made cakes;
to remember how it felt to be young and free,
in a land no one claimed its title deed...
The shoes carry memories in them,
that only their owners can remember.
For it could be seen
Someone else, other than me
I would choose a geisha girl
Walk on wooden shoe
In my small, petite like steps
Artist of the unseen world
House on hill apart
from the rest of us. Sometimes
its lights mimic the stars.
And have you heard the story
Of Captain Sean McGrew,
Who sailed the mighty oceans,
In a square rigged wooden shoe?
His first mate was a salty dog
From east of Lilla Bay.
The ship's crew hailed from Lilligo,
In Lilliput, they say.
Then one sad day, he lost his ship,
His crew, and all his loot,
To a roguish band of pirates,
In a rapid sailing, chukka boot.
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.