Here is a list of Allegory Poems ordered by Most Commented, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
SAILS BY ANY TIDE
I CLUNG THERE, SHIPWRECKED OF HEART UPON THE ROCKS,
CERTAIN OF MY FAITH, THE DEEP AWAITING,
WHEN YOU CAME BY, TO RESCUE ME,
A SIREN SURELY I THOUGHT, A MERMAID OF THE DEEP.
BUT YOU WERE AS HUMAN AS I, SMILING DOWN,
AS I CLIMBED THE ROPE LADDER TO YOUR DECK,
WELCOME ABOARD, ''THE TRUE LOVE'' YOU LAUGHED,
SHE SAILS BY ANY TIDE.
AND OUR EYES SPARKED, AS WE TALKED THROUGH THE NIGHT,
SOON, BELOW DECK, WE WERE LOVERS,
THE OLD SHIP CREAKING, AND ROLLING,
AS WE LOVED, UPON THE TIDE,
I HAVE SEARCHED THE SEAS FOR YOU, YOU WHISPERED,
UPON MANY TIDES, FOUGHT THE WIND, AND CONTRARY SEAS,
AS YOU THREW YOUR COMPASS, TO THE DEEP, LAUGHING,
LET LOVE GUIDE OUR ROUTE, THE STARS ARE ENOUGH FOR US.
AND WE SET SAIL, ACROSS TRUE LOVES GENTLE SEA,
YET WE FEARED NO TEMPEST, TRUE LOVE, KNOWS NO FEAR,
LASHED TO THE WHEEL, WE MADE LOVE THROUGH THE NIGHT,
AS LIGHTNING FORKED AROUND OUR PASSION, DANCING BRIGHTLY.
ATOP THE CROWS NEST, I LAUGHED DOWN AT YOU, AT THE WHEEL,
OUR EYES SPARKING, WITH LOVE, AS WE PLOUGHED THE WAVE,
AND YOU LAUGHING BACK, AS I CRIED TO THE WIND, MAKE WAY,
FOR ''THE TRUE LOVE'' SAILS BY ANY TIDE.
BEN999
CERTAIN OF MY FAITH, THE DEEP AWAITING,
WHEN YOU CAME BY, TO RESCUE ME,
A SIREN SURELY I THOUGHT, A MERMAID OF THE DEEP.
BUT YOU WERE AS HUMAN AS I, SMILING DOWN,
AS I CLIMBED THE ROPE LADDER TO YOUR DECK,
WELCOME ABOARD, ''THE TRUE LOVE'' YOU LAUGHED,
SHE SAILS BY ANY TIDE.
AND OUR EYES SPARKED, AS WE TALKED THROUGH THE NIGHT,
SOON, BELOW DECK, WE WERE LOVERS,
THE OLD SHIP CREAKING, AND ROLLING,
AS WE LOVED, UPON THE TIDE,
I HAVE SEARCHED THE SEAS FOR YOU, YOU WHISPERED,
UPON MANY TIDES, FOUGHT THE WIND, AND CONTRARY SEAS,
AS YOU THREW YOUR COMPASS, TO THE DEEP, LAUGHING,
LET LOVE GUIDE OUR ROUTE, THE STARS ARE ENOUGH FOR US.
AND WE SET SAIL, ACROSS TRUE LOVES GENTLE SEA,
YET WE FEARED NO TEMPEST, TRUE LOVE, KNOWS NO FEAR,
LASHED TO THE WHEEL, WE MADE LOVE THROUGH THE NIGHT,
AS LIGHTNING FORKED AROUND OUR PASSION, DANCING BRIGHTLY.
ATOP THE CROWS NEST, I LAUGHED DOWN AT YOU, AT THE WHEEL,
OUR EYES SPARKING, WITH LOVE, AS WE PLOUGHED THE WAVE,
AND YOU LAUGHING BACK, AS I CRIED TO THE WIND, MAKE WAY,
FOR ''THE TRUE LOVE'' SAILS BY ANY TIDE.
BEN999
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
About this poem:
FOR YOU MY LOVE, THE BEACONS ARE LIT, TO GUIDE YOUR SHIP INTO MY HEART, UPON THE TIDE.
Black Marbles
There are several visible evidences of your true beauty...
Some are invisible, some are half-seen...
Maybe I'm fixated on all the wrong things...
Regardless, I regard you as my Supreme Queen...
What a blessing it is to have the ability to see...
Through sparkling black marbles made just for me...
For they are the windows into your sweet soul...
A place of pure comfort....a space you control...
As a child, I loved to play with glass spheres...
I've never grown-up....I still have my fears...
Your eyes, they have hurt me, I shed forth my tears...
I'm still just a child after all of these years....
Some are invisible, some are half-seen...
Maybe I'm fixated on all the wrong things...
Regardless, I regard you as my Supreme Queen...
What a blessing it is to have the ability to see...
Through sparkling black marbles made just for me...
For they are the windows into your sweet soul...
A place of pure comfort....a space you control...
As a child, I loved to play with glass spheres...
I've never grown-up....I still have my fears...
Your eyes, they have hurt me, I shed forth my tears...
I'm still just a child after all of these years....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2014
About this poem:
Re-edit...A Child's Pain
I love to see a child cry...
When it's tears of joy pouring from their eyes...
I love to see a child die...
When it's laughter that causes the dying inside...
I love to see a child in pain...
If it's just from the loss of their new toy plane...
I love the sound of a child's screams...
When they wake up realizing it was just bad dreams....
I will cradle you with my comforting arms...
Keeping you safe from the pains and the harms...
I will wash away all your pains of the day...
No matter what you may do or may say....
When it's tears of joy pouring from their eyes...
I love to see a child die...
When it's laughter that causes the dying inside...
I love to see a child in pain...
If it's just from the loss of their new toy plane...
I love the sound of a child's screams...
When they wake up realizing it was just bad dreams....
I will cradle you with my comforting arms...
Keeping you safe from the pains and the harms...
I will wash away all your pains of the day...
No matter what you may do or may say....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2014
About this poem:
No words necessary.Dark Matter
The only thing that matters in this cursed dark universe...
Are things unseen in sick dark dreams that bring what surely hurts...
Invisible stars too far to reach elude me every time...
Dark matter is the element that can make your dark stars shine...
I love the feel of stardust when it falls upon my face...
I love to steal the taste you place in places of dark space...
I hate the feel of gravity when it pushes me away...
Away from you, my love so true, away from your embrace....
Are things unseen in sick dark dreams that bring what surely hurts...
Invisible stars too far to reach elude me every time...
Dark matter is the element that can make your dark stars shine...
I love the feel of stardust when it falls upon my face...
I love to steal the taste you place in places of dark space...
I hate the feel of gravity when it pushes me away...
Away from you, my love so true, away from your embrace....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
Post Comment
A Poem For My Fellow Poets
Can you see us bent over kitchen tables
And our pencil's warm erasers
As we pour our hearts into liquid words upon the lowly page?
Can you see us stopped in parking lots;
Searching for scraps among the floorboards,
Then, with pen to note, we scratch a word to show a life, a love, and age?
We who fight with nature
Never searching, always believing,
We strive against cold, heat and drought to keep the wolves from the door...
But the battle seems wan in comparison
To the war with words we wage,
As we seek to convey a thought, a poem to live and last forevermore.
Why, we were fine and fancy...
No cares beyond the gate
Our only worries keeping calves alive and shipping them eight months later.
Until we tasted immortality
On this life's stage or 'round a campfire
And you, who come to read our words, became the instigator
So we take it all in and write it down
In between the endless chores
Amazed and honored that there are people who read and listen and seem to care
We try to make you laugh and cry
In portraying all we really savvy
And somehow make it all of value and something worthy to share.
Most give little thoughts to such an act
This trying to capture in ink a sunset
When an artist or a photographer can hardly succeed at such a task
Without film or paint or music
Armed with only our imaginations
We connect the dots and record our lives
Our future and our past.
Thus we dance with you as partners
In this waltz of verse and lingo
As long as you continue to listen, we'll try to get it right
With words that bind us close together
Transcending time and borders,
For we are the poets
And you are the reason we write.
And our pencil's warm erasers
As we pour our hearts into liquid words upon the lowly page?
Can you see us stopped in parking lots;
Searching for scraps among the floorboards,
Then, with pen to note, we scratch a word to show a life, a love, and age?
We who fight with nature
Never searching, always believing,
We strive against cold, heat and drought to keep the wolves from the door...
But the battle seems wan in comparison
To the war with words we wage,
As we seek to convey a thought, a poem to live and last forevermore.
Why, we were fine and fancy...
No cares beyond the gate
Our only worries keeping calves alive and shipping them eight months later.
Until we tasted immortality
On this life's stage or 'round a campfire
And you, who come to read our words, became the instigator
So we take it all in and write it down
In between the endless chores
Amazed and honored that there are people who read and listen and seem to care
We try to make you laugh and cry
In portraying all we really savvy
And somehow make it all of value and something worthy to share.
Most give little thoughts to such an act
This trying to capture in ink a sunset
When an artist or a photographer can hardly succeed at such a task
Without film or paint or music
Armed with only our imaginations
We connect the dots and record our lives
Our future and our past.
Thus we dance with you as partners
In this waltz of verse and lingo
As long as you continue to listen, we'll try to get it right
With words that bind us close together
Transcending time and borders,
For we are the poets
And you are the reason we write.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
About this poem:
A cowboy poet's view on writing poetry and sharing it with fellow poets and readers.TWILIGHT
TWILIGHT
I LOVE BEST, NOT THE YELLOW SUN
OR LIGHT OF THE SILVER MOON,
NOR GREY, THAT SEEPS ACROSS THE SKY,
TO WHISPER, DAWN COMES SOON
FOR MY LOVE IS OF TWILIGHT,
WHEN THE DAY IS ALMOST DONE,
THE BIRDS, HAVE CEASED THERE SINGING,
GOD'S HAND, HAS ALL BUT QUENCHED THE SUN
TIS THEN I LOVE THAT STILLNESS
IN THE LAST BREATH OF THE DAY,
THE AULD WANS, ALWAYS SAID THAT TWAS
THE ANGELS, HOUR TO PRAY,
TIS THEN I PAUSE, TO STAND AND LOOK
FAR AWAY, OUT O'ER THE GLEN,
ASK GOD, TO LET ME LIVE TO SEE,
THE TWILIGHT, ONCE AGAIN.
BEN GUIRY { EXCERPT, FROM THE BOOK, FOOTPRINTS OF THE HEART }
I LOVE BEST, NOT THE YELLOW SUN
OR LIGHT OF THE SILVER MOON,
NOR GREY, THAT SEEPS ACROSS THE SKY,
TO WHISPER, DAWN COMES SOON
FOR MY LOVE IS OF TWILIGHT,
WHEN THE DAY IS ALMOST DONE,
THE BIRDS, HAVE CEASED THERE SINGING,
GOD'S HAND, HAS ALL BUT QUENCHED THE SUN
TIS THEN I LOVE THAT STILLNESS
IN THE LAST BREATH OF THE DAY,
THE AULD WANS, ALWAYS SAID THAT TWAS
THE ANGELS, HOUR TO PRAY,
TIS THEN I PAUSE, TO STAND AND LOOK
FAR AWAY, OUT O'ER THE GLEN,
ASK GOD, TO LET ME LIVE TO SEE,
THE TWILIGHT, ONCE AGAIN.
BEN GUIRY { EXCERPT, FROM THE BOOK, FOOTPRINTS OF THE HEART }
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
About this poem:
An old woman, who lived in a hollow part of the valley, climbed to higher ground, to stand by an old gate, and watch the gold, or pink hue of twilight, thrown out across the hill, which she loved dearly, sometimes while strolling of an evening, id met her there, and we muzed, to while away an hour, and watch the gloming. the poem Twilight, is in her memory, Babbie Johnson, may you rest in peace and stillness, of your beloved Twilight. auld wans, a local expression, meaning old womenKNOCKBOY
THE RAIN HAD CEASED ITS FALLING,
A WATERY SUN SHONE THROUGH,
THE GRAVEYARD SEEMED SO PEACEFUL,
WITH THE MOUNTAINS, WASHED ANEW.
WE WALKED DOWN THE ANCIENT BOHREEN,
TO THE GRAVEYARD AT 'KNOCKBOY',
AS THE BLACK HEARSE, MADE ITS FINAL STOP,
WE COULD HEAR THE CURLEWS CRY,
OLD WOMEN FOUGHT TO HIDE THERE TEARS,
THE MEN, TRIED TO BE STRONG,
AND AS THE PADRE, SAID A ROSARY,
A BLACKBIRD, CHIRPED IN SONG,
AND WAS IT DISTANT THUNDER,
OR DID WE HEAR THE ANGELS CRY,
THE DAY WE LOWERED, AULD MARY HALLAHAN,
TO HER GRAVE, IN OLD 'KNOCKBOY'.
BEN999
A WATERY SUN SHONE THROUGH,
THE GRAVEYARD SEEMED SO PEACEFUL,
WITH THE MOUNTAINS, WASHED ANEW.
WE WALKED DOWN THE ANCIENT BOHREEN,
TO THE GRAVEYARD AT 'KNOCKBOY',
AS THE BLACK HEARSE, MADE ITS FINAL STOP,
WE COULD HEAR THE CURLEWS CRY,
OLD WOMEN FOUGHT TO HIDE THERE TEARS,
THE MEN, TRIED TO BE STRONG,
AND AS THE PADRE, SAID A ROSARY,
A BLACKBIRD, CHIRPED IN SONG,
AND WAS IT DISTANT THUNDER,
OR DID WE HEAR THE ANGELS CRY,
THE DAY WE LOWERED, AULD MARY HALLAHAN,
TO HER GRAVE, IN OLD 'KNOCKBOY'.
BEN999
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2010
About this poem:
'KNOCKBOY' IS AN ANCENT CHURCH, JUST DOWN THE ROAD FROM MY COUNTY WATERFORD, MOUNTAN HOME, HERE N IRELAND, AND IS RATHER QUAINT, THE CHURCH IS FAMED, FOR ITS DOOR, AND WNDOW LINTELS, WHCH CONTAN THE PRECHRSTAN, OGHAM SCRIPT CARVNGS, DOUBTLESS THERE WAS AN OLD PAGAN SITE HERE, IN MORE ANCENT TMES.BORHEEN, AN ANCIENT NARROW PATHWAY, LITERALLY A NARROW COW TRACK.
CURLEW, A BIRD, WTH A HIGH PITCHED CRY.
'KNOCKBOY' IN GAELIC, 'CNOC BUI' MEANING THE YELLOW HILL, NAMED FOR THE PROFUSON OF YELLOW FURZE, WHCH ADORN IT.
Solar Storm * 4 Paloma *
On a pillar of clouds, supporting my weight...
I stand and I stare at the nacreous gates...
With reverent patience, I wait to partake...
In an aeolian state of the wind and its wake...
As the crier of time, oh the visions I've seen...
Half asleep, in my dreams, ataraxia seems...
Seems to be, dreamed by me, scenes of starlings...
Queens and Kings crumble.... psithurism cleans...
A solar storm of misery in a cosmogyral place...
A space reminiscence of your beautiful face...
Your strands do command a fine gossamer foundation...
It is within your piercing stare that I have found my destination....
I stand and I stare at the nacreous gates...
With reverent patience, I wait to partake...
In an aeolian state of the wind and its wake...
As the crier of time, oh the visions I've seen...
Half asleep, in my dreams, ataraxia seems...
Seems to be, dreamed by me, scenes of starlings...
Queens and Kings crumble.... psithurism cleans...
A solar storm of misery in a cosmogyral place...
A space reminiscence of your beautiful face...
Your strands do command a fine gossamer foundation...
It is within your piercing stare that I have found my destination....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
About this poem:
Dedicated to you dearest Paloma....THE LITTLE GIRLS GRAVE
IN PASSING HERE ONE AUTUMN DAY,
YOUR HEADSTONE CAUGHT MY EYE,
A LITTLE GIRL OF 3 YEARS OLD,
METHINKS TOO YOUNG TO DIE.
A PATCH OF CLOVER, FOR YOUR LEGS,
SMALL THISTLES, ADORN YOUR BROW,
AND TANGLED WEEDS, FOR YOUR FINE HAIR,
YOUR ARMS, ARE BRAMBLES NOW.
THE SWIRLING WIND, ABOUT MY HEAD,
DRIED LEAVES, ARE DANCING NOW,
AS IF IN VAIN, TO MAKE YOU SMILE,
BY JINGLING, ROUND, AND ROUND.
HOW SAD FOR YOU, MY LITTLE ONE,
TO LEAVE IT ALL SO SOON,
DID YOU BRING DOLLS, IN INNONCENCE,
TO PLAY WITH IN YOUR TOMB.
YOUR BROKEN HEARTED PARENTS,
TO LOSE YOU, ALL TO SOON,
AND LAY YOU DOWN IN HEARTFELT GRIEF,
IN ANCIENT INISLOON.
BUT I WILL STOP BY HERE AGAIN,
WHEN I AM PASSING SOON,
AND PRAY FOR YOU,THE LITTLE ONE,
IN ANCIENT INISLOON, MY LOVE, IN ANCIENT INISLOON.
BEN999
YOUR HEADSTONE CAUGHT MY EYE,
A LITTLE GIRL OF 3 YEARS OLD,
METHINKS TOO YOUNG TO DIE.
A PATCH OF CLOVER, FOR YOUR LEGS,
SMALL THISTLES, ADORN YOUR BROW,
AND TANGLED WEEDS, FOR YOUR FINE HAIR,
YOUR ARMS, ARE BRAMBLES NOW.
THE SWIRLING WIND, ABOUT MY HEAD,
DRIED LEAVES, ARE DANCING NOW,
AS IF IN VAIN, TO MAKE YOU SMILE,
BY JINGLING, ROUND, AND ROUND.
HOW SAD FOR YOU, MY LITTLE ONE,
TO LEAVE IT ALL SO SOON,
DID YOU BRING DOLLS, IN INNONCENCE,
TO PLAY WITH IN YOUR TOMB.
YOUR BROKEN HEARTED PARENTS,
TO LOSE YOU, ALL TO SOON,
AND LAY YOU DOWN IN HEARTFELT GRIEF,
IN ANCIENT INISLOON.
BUT I WILL STOP BY HERE AGAIN,
WHEN I AM PASSING SOON,
AND PRAY FOR YOU,THE LITTLE ONE,
IN ANCIENT INISLOON, MY LOVE, IN ANCIENT INISLOON.
BEN999
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
About this poem:
CAME ACROSS THIS LITTLE GIRLS GRAVE, WHILE DOING RESEARCH, IN THE ANCIENT GRAVEYARD AT INISLOON, FURTHER RESEARCH THREW UP THE FACT THAT HER MOTHER WENT QUIET INSANE WITH GRIEF AFTERWARDS, THE PROXIMITY OF THE HOUSE OVERLOOKING THE GRAVEYARD IN INISLOON, WAS TOO MUCH FOR HER TO BEAR, THE JAMESON FAMILY, MOVED AWAY TO DUBLIN, SHORTLY AFTERWARDS, IN THE MID 18 HUNDREDS. A QUAINT BUT BEAUTIFUL SPOT IS ANCIENT INISHLOON, AS THE RIVER MISTS SWIRL ABOUT IT, IN GHOST LIKE SHROUD.INISLOON=RIVERSIDE MEADOW.
Square Circles
Cornerless cubes descend perfect transitions...
Landing in perfect positions...
Geometrical-shapeshifter sick tragic visions...
In flawless conditions...
Rigid-bodied dynamics succeed...
Tipless triangles, lines in between...
Square circles...
Round rectangles...
Nothing is ever quite what it seems....
Landing in perfect positions...
Geometrical-shapeshifter sick tragic visions...
In flawless conditions...
Rigid-bodied dynamics succeed...
Tipless triangles, lines in between...
Square circles...
Round rectangles...
Nothing is ever quite what it seems....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
About this poem:
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