Poems (Page 10)

A woman in a light mauve dress sits on the side of a grass-covered mountain in Switzerland. At the base of the mountain is a clear, pale blue lake.

Inspired I write.
Tired I sleep.
Stressed I can’t.
Lonely I weep.

Enabled I do.
Afraid I don’t.
Excited I thrive.
Ordered I won’t.

[continue]. . .

A garden of purple, pink, and white sweet pea flowers beside a trellis, with a single red rose blooming among them.

The beauty of a rose,
wrapped tight within the vines,
upon my trellis waiting,
just waiting for her time.

Bursting open, petals stretch
unto the light of day.
Exploding colors all around,
for Spring has come to stay.

[continue]. . .

Out of tune and out of time. An old, broken-down piano with well-worn keys was found abandoned in a derelict Irish farmhouse.

Why do we employ pen and paper
or, having been given words,
dutifully put them to rhyme?

Why do we apply oil to canvas,
or form a masterpiece
with not but sound?

[continue]. . .

Image Credit: "A boy in a superman costume runs across the green field at sunset" by megaalex11590

Heroes stand tall,
for those who feel small,
lifting their spirits to the sky.

Lost courage regained,
we move past the pain,
never again asking why.

[continue]. . .

Sunlight illuminates the well-worn hands of an older man wearing a tan sweater. In his hands, he holds a young, green plant nestled in soil. Fertile ground, with young plants, is seen in the background.

Of what more worth are we than dirt,
with vain ambitions nigh?
Crawling up on spindly legs,
to gaze upon the sky.

[continue]. . .

Image Credit: "Man making a puzzle on the wall. empty wall with space for text" by chaiyapruek, "Soft Rose" from Lene (composite by E.L. Redwine)

Some poems seem to flow out,
while others take their time.
A collection of thoughts and feelings,
that don’t always have to rhyme

Sometimes they’re full of depth,
and others skim the surface.
Exposing feelings that are raw,
expressed with simple grace.

[continue]. . .