I´d like to say goodbye.
To the girl who smiled every time she saw a butterfly.
To the girl who always saw joy in sorrow
To the girl who dreamed of tomorrow.
I´d like to apologize.
That I didn´t prepare you for all the starless skies
That I didn`t warn you about all the heartbreak.
That I didn´t warn you about the tears after every mistake.
I´d like to say
You´ll feel better one day...
You´ll be happy
Just wait and see
There was a young girl who lived in the bush,
There weren't many people around, she looked.
There were a lot of trees, tall they stood.
Bugs tiny and fast,
take care of them, Mum said she should.
When the sun rose, her skin felt good.
When the sun set, it was time to read a book.
When she picked berries, she was careful how many she took.
When the grass russled, she didn't take a look.
When the fields called, she put on her boots.
When the skies turned dark, the stars would shoot.
There was a young girl who lived in the bush,
There weren't many people around, she looked.
Though the flowers, birds and muddy puddles filled her heart up just as good.
A young girl held love deep in her heart,
For a young boy, though she didn’t know where to start.
Pressure and abuse, her parents’ jealous hand,
Yet her dreams kept growing, like the sun over the land.
She saw the boy working, never out of breath,
Sacrificing to feed her, keeping hunger from death.
Advice to go to school, encouragement he gave,
Yet pressure would call, like storms over the brave.
Despite all obstacles, she never doubted her way,
Believing her love could grow, come what may.
She saw her dreams, far yet clear in view,
Turning into examples for youth, for hope to renew.
Suffering reached her soul, hair fell, body grew thin,
But she never gave up, her fight came from within.
The first person she loved was herself to embrace,
In reality, self-love became her saving grace.
Her dreams kept growing; she feared not to lose,
Building her life, proud of all she could choose.
An example for children, to show life is a fight,
But strength and self-love will always make it right.
There was a young girl Petronella
who heard not a word I would tell her
for no matter the call
she knew it all
that's why I'm no longer her feller
The xanthous muse flies
New book scent and candle wax
Waltz of butterflies
Soft turns wonder at flashbacks
Waits for exciting climax
Have you heard the story,
in all of it's fun and glory.
It is about a young girl named Lori,
she went with a boy named John Dory.
She went running to the lavatory,
was this going to become inflammatory?
Eating blue cheese and old pickles each day,
sitting by the bay.
Her boyfriend John Dory just wanted to play,
she kept saying no way.
Now on her birthday,
she is getting a baby not a blue jay.
Once upon a time, a hidden song was sung,
In shadows cast, where innocence was young.
A whisper carried in the still of night,
A soul confined, seeking a flicker of light.
Within the pages of a diary's embrace,
A world unfolded, penned with grace.
Thoughts unbound, carried on unseen wings,
A reflection of a girl with secret dreams.
In silence, she painted a world so vast,
Between the lines, her hopes steadfast.
Amidst the chaos, a voice of unwavering truth,
A beacon of light in the darkness, uncouth.
Through the walls of time, her spirit flies,
Touching hearts, reaching across the skies.
A testament to courage in the face of fear,
A legacy etched in each hidden tear.
So let her words echo through the ages,
A reminder of resilience in history's pages.
In the quiet whisper of a hidden room,
Anne Frank's life blooms beyond the gloom.
Forced into hiding from the Nazi's, Young Anne's account moves me to tears
Mom: “Beware
guys that smile
all the time!”
Dad: “Avoid
boys that don’t
smile a lot!”
Older sis:
“Girl, you know
they conspire!”
January 27, 2023
written for the Tricube Contest
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
If I should paint a day in May,
it must portray a distant time.
Young girl in sunlit garden's way,
her long skirt falls in folds sublime.
Her basket has been over-filled--
lilacs, roses, lavender rest
among blooms so secretly spilled
upon a day in May so blest.
May 5, 2022
for A Lay for a Day in May poetry contest
by Andrea Dietrich
howmanysyllables.com
Second Place!
I once walked with you on Lombard Steet.
Little Maria~with the the western golden sun
Highting your long, shiny brunette hair.
Your tiny patent, Mary Janes, blessing the San
Francisco Streets.
It is all now just a foglifter's dream.
Dreams past and gone too fast!
Now you pat my head and hold my hand.
Assuring me my hip will definitely heal.
And with me ~ you will always stand.
Me, wishing, we were on Lombard Street.
Climbing the hills, on Cable Cars laughing.
But time has its way with us.
Never knowing what's coming our way,
A new day, a new surprise!
What a daughter, a hundred percenter dream
of a woman!
You must know by now, Maria, that you are..
My rainbow, twinkling, heavenly star!
Twinkle, twinkle, my little Maria.
God be with you, wherever you are....
June 14, 2020
10:00 pm PST
Poem # 1, 242
The lone rose never asked for much
and never once complained…
She was happy when the sunlight reached her
and when her petals filled with rain.
She grew outside the young girls window
and always found a way
to stand a little straighter
when the young girl smiled her way.
Not once did the young girl forget her…
for every day she chose
to open her window, smile, wave
and say, “Good Morning!” to her rose.
And they were happy with their relationship…
It made the girl and her rose glow…
until the change of seasons
and the fall winds began to blow..
Soon it would be winter
When her single rose would die
and so the young girl and the rose
prepared to say goodbye.
“What can I do for you?” The young girl asked
“since you’ve given so much to me?
The rose had but one request
“Can you take me to the sea?”
“I’ve seen the sun, the moon the stars
I’ve seen the birds the trees and more…
but I would love once before I’m gone
if I could see the shore.”
And so they traveled to the shore
to where the ocean meets the sky…
and here they sat and watched the waves
and it was here they said goodbye.
If a young girl cries in her bedroom,
And no one’s around to hear it,
Does it make a sound?
What say of the echoing of her screams,
Her whimpers in the night,
And her fists she'll use to pound.
Disregard her furrowed brows,
Her tangled hair,
And her smile yet to be found.
Drops of innocence trailing down her cheek,
The universe fading from her eyes,
And her heart falling to the ground.
Will she tough it out and be brave,
Picking up her shattered pieces,
Leaving everyone else around?
Or will she give up and give in to the pain,
Causing her heart to grow cold,
Stuck in the same place she was bound?
No matter her choice,
Her heart still aches,
And her life fades into the background.
But if a young girl cries in her bedroom,
And no one’s around to hear it,
Of course it makes a sound.
There was a young girl from Marfee
Her nickname was young cute blondie.
Teeth were all rotted
Men were all sotted
She's a firm forty-two double dee.
I met a young girl today,
and I treated her as such.
This young girl I met today,
made the mask fall off my face,
when she taught me about grace!
date: 4/21/19
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.