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Best Donald Williams Poems

Below are the all-time best Donald Williams poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Donald Williams Poems

Details | Donald Williams Poem

What Lurks Within

What Lurks Within

I picture in my mind an old colonial room,
With a door to the garden where my flowers can bloom.
A window in the back to see the main house,
A leaky roof and the scurry of a mouse.

Mold on the floor and old bricks in the wall,
And a door in the back to the main kitchen hall.

A stack of hay to the left leading out the front door,
To the gravel path that wraps around to the front porch.

The smell of moisture in the air so damp and so cold,
I can get some water and try to scrub up the mold.

A mat by the door to clean off my boots,
I can get into the car to start my commute.

So much I can picture for this small place,
Nothing to hold back my imagination, but space.

-For Seren’s What Lurks Within Contest

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Donald Williams Poem

Can You Imagine

Can you imagine how it would be?

I remember when I was young.
To dream and wonder what I'd become.
The girls that I liked.
Holiday happiness with joy and delight.
My future in front of me is all I could see.
Can you imagine how it would be?

All the things, I could not wait for.
To be 16, there was nothing I wanted more.
To learn to drive and be my own man.
The time passed so slowly, I could not understand.
It seemed to me that fate was being too mean.
Can you imagine how it would be?

All the things I could do when I turned 21.
I wished for that everyday, I wanted to be on my own.
Having fun and going to the bar.
Being on my own and it seemed so far.
On to college to earn my degree.
Can you imagine how it would be?

Finding a girl so sweet and in Love.
My emotion is high and I'm in search of.
What to do now, I just don't know.
I love her so much, I want to be her hero.
Then comes marriage and our baby you see.
Can you imagine how it would be?

Watching my children grow as they do.
Life has changed and more bills come due.
I've grown up and now have more responsibility.
Life isn't bad at all, just a different party.
Kids move on and far away from me.
Can you imagine how it would be?

I've taught kid all that I can.
Now I can watch my kid become a man.
The days grow longer and the nights are hard.
I can spend my days working in my yard.
Life seems so short and not lonely.
Can you imagine how it would be?

I found happiness in all of my life.
Not just my kid or my loving wife.
With all my work throughout the years.
Through all the good times and the tears.
The most important thing was my family.
Can you imagine how it would be?

I open my eyes to see the bright sky.
My dream has ended and I know just why.
Today is my birthday and I am ten.
It's all a dream thinking back then.
My future is in front of me and that's what I see.
Can you imagine how it would be?

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Donald Williams Poem

The Rarest of Things

I gaze at the wind as it blows acorss the grown wheat.
My neck bends down and I stare at the grass beneath my feet.
The thoughts I have go far in the past.
In the time before when there was no grass.
Dreams of how the land was in the time before.
I can imagine how this once was on the ocean floor.

How dark and so cold it must have been.
And all the creatures that lived so deep within.
So many living down in this dark place.
Each life to live in the ocean's fast pace.
Flowing through the currents as a leaf on the wind.
The ocean floor covered with clams that never end.

Seperate individuals that we all are today.
Much similar to the clams that lived here that day.
We all have special minds that we can share.
Not one is alike so special and rare.
Once in a lifetime there's one person we meet.
We can share all with them and it makes us complete.

Once in our lifetime theres a single event.
Like clam that catches a dirt fragment.
We hold on to that feeling with all that we are.
Always lighting our way like a nothern star.
Like the clam that holds one little piece of dirt.
We hold on to the one that gives us comfort.
After some years this clam has a pearl.
As rare as the feelings of love for this man or this girl.

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Donald Williams Poem

How The Memory Flows

Can you remember this feeling very much.
Hearing something in the kitchen making a fuss.
I can remember it so well, it's like yesterday.
Pots and pans wrattle, as I'm outside to play.
I would be playing in the dirt or kicking a beach ball.
Hearing mamma in the kitchen, hoping she'd call.
I know that she's cooking dinner in there.
I'm not sure what it is and I don't really care.
I am completely dirty from my head to my toes.
Is there dessert or ice cream, she only knows.
I can smell the cooking from the yard and all sides.
With realization I know it's sloppy joe and french fries.
How it was when I was young.
Freedom around the yard I could roam.
I loved my mamma and daddy for just being there.
I'd be nothing without them, no love or no care.

-No contest, just some things I was thinking.

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Donald Williams Poem

Golf Limerick

There was a man from faraway lands.

He held a golf club in his right hand.

He said this to me.

What is that I see?

No club in your mitt, or ball to hit.

-For Contest Golf Limerick

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Donald Williams Poem

Morning Coffee Catastrophe

The morning seemed quiet when I got up from my bed,
The air was still, as I shook the cobwebs from my head.

I walked slowly into the bathroom to wash my face,
Work must be done and I must prepare for my daily race.

Brushing my teeth and running water through my hair,
I know this day might be good and the weather is so fair.

Streams of sunlight peer through open shades,
I walk to the kitchen, barely awake in a daze.

Open the cabinet for the coffee just inside,
I notice it's empty and then I almost cried.

I gather up my clothes, in a such a terrible rush,
The coffee helps me focus, gives my brain a good flush.

I jump out the door with the speed of lightning,
Into my truck, without coffee my day is frightening.

A few brief minutes passes by as I blaze into town,
My trucks roars down the street with my gas pedal down.

I see Starbucks ahead and my mouth is watering,
Can't wait to taste my coffee for this morning.

Roll down my window with such hast to order my prize,
I ask for a large hazelnut coffee with joy in my eyes.

I make it to work a few minutes early today,
Knowing that I made it, but only halfway.

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Donald Williams Poem

The Warrior Who Trains

 I slash with my sword and I push with my shoulder. Every muscle and every tendon is screaming in agony. I can feel every pressure when my blade makes contact. I’m grunting with passion as I push every extremity to the very breaking point. I let my mind wonder to the past, where my family was butchered and mutilated when I was 10 years old. I lost everything I loved and anything that mattered to me, but my passion. Revenge echoes in my mind over and over, like the rumbling of thunder in the summer storms when they pass. Revenge against those who could do the things I’ve seen, beasts that slaughtered my whole family. I have spent years here, learning the warrior’s way, feeling the grunge and toils from everyday training.

 My sword is now a part of my body, so swift and true. I can draw it sharply and silent to bring it up my enemy. I spin my body and crouch down low, dodging my enemy and thrusting my sword into his chest. My body has become one single weapon for me to use. My mind is sharp and ready for the challenges of all those who oppose me. I will fight for honor and what is right and damnation to those who are evil and selfish. In the distance a voice echoes in my ears, “Piiid!” “Pid!” This sound grows louder as I strain my muscles and sharpen my skills. “PIIIDDD!!!” “HAULT!” and then I realize that master Baracus has been calling me. Turning around, I see Baracus standing there with a puzzled look on his face. He is a tall elder man with a chiseled chin and scars across both cheeks. His skin tone is deep red from the Sun’s scorching heat of the day. His balding head has traces of white hair around each side and the tunic of a trainer is all black with gold trim. His deep blue eyes gaze upon me in frustration, “You must focus on all things around you Pid, you will leave yourself open to attack without it”.  

 Baracus turns to walk towards the shelter as he mumbles various curses at me. “You young bucks have no attention and focus” as he slowly walks to sit down. “I was focused on my training you old goat” I persist. As we both sit down, he makes his brittle response, “Damn young blood makes poor fertilizer for our fields” as we both bellow with laughter. He is my mentor and trainer, but most of all he took me in and called me his son. He has trained me in the way of the warrior and what it means to be honorable and noble.     

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Donald Williams Poem

Good Morning Cruel World

I open my eyes and I can hear the clock radio blaring it's tunes and screaming at me to get up. I lazily reach my hand out to find that button, the button that is larger than the rest, hoping I can press it one more time to return to my slumber. 

Aching and stiff from laying on one side or the other I drag my feet and legs off the sheet to tip them over the edge of the bed. I can feel the carpet under foot and I reach to flip on a light. Looking down now at my feet resting on the carpet, I wonder, what excuse could I come up with to go back to sleep? 

Softly the clock radio continues it's morning tribute and I am still thinking and dreaming of my slumber. All is lost now, I must put forth my effort to rise to a standing position. I can feel my muscles tense in anguish as I push my feet firmly into the carpet. I continuely apply more and more pressure to rise up and stand, for at the same time I know, My slumber is at an end. No matter how hard I think and my body screams to return to that peaceful bliss of slumber, I must push on. A new day has dawned and I must prepare for it. 


Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Donald Williams Poem

My Lunch

Oh my great salad come to me,
your tomato juices soon to please.

Look at those beautiful green leaves,
A little spark of yellow with the cheese.

The sweetness of my ranch on top,
I'll eat you all up, I could never stop.

Those little crunchy bits laying just there,
Could be seeds, could be bacon, I don't care.

The nice crispy texture so great when I bite,
A little bit of cucumber makes it just right.

Come to me, my super great lunch,
I'll eat you all up and I like it a bunch.

My lunch adventure is all gone I'd say,
I eat every bit, I like it that way.

My lunch was just really good today - Donald

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Donald Williams Poem

Spring Morning

Slowly the light comes into my eyes.
The morning is here and that's no surprise.

Thin lines of the sun's rays shine through.
An open curtain from across my bedroom.

My eyelids are heavy and feel so dry.
Trying to wipe the long sleep from my eye.

The tiniest particles of dust float softly from my bed.
Splatter across thin lines of light just above my head.

I wonder to myself, should I get up or just stay.
The covers so warm and wishing to remain this way.

The smell of fresh coffee is permeating the air.
Who could it be making hot coffee out there?

A bright new day has started for all of us, not just me.
Come into my dream with me and see how great it can be.

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013