Free Verse Poems (29,535)

Ever so often, we may find ourselves
cringing and bracing ...
But no need to suffer too long...
No need to go through it alone,
for together we can indeed be more strong ...

Maybe if you look into mine,
inspire you it might ,
and help you with your own pain...
To see how I deal or cope with it,
even though the grief
seems to not willingly wane ...

Maybe if you witness
how I try to see Life's worth ,
so instead of each day just surviving
I'm somehow also thriving ...
Then perhaps it will aid you
to realize more , its own beauty and value,
so to withdraw into one's self
won't come back once more
in deceptive stealth .
For as it jeopardizes your very health,
I would loathe to see you, my Love, so crumpled,
your very essence imprisoned & strangled ...

Though it's not always the sauce for the goose
applies for the gander in real life ...
Maybe there's anyway
always something good to learn
and be gleaned
from a loved one's own strife ...

And while we more often start alone
facing our shadows, perhaps there
for reasons unknown,
And because I believe in you ...
to not be a Shakespearean tragedy,
but instead, your own success story
that you have every right to be ...
Maybe it won't be so scary
to take that hand ,offered lovingly,
of one who cares for you truly ,
of one who sees all the good in you openly ,
(even though you may fail to see
your valuable worth with clarity ...)

Together to strengthen, inspire ...
I can keep you company
in life's challenging but worthwhile journey,
affectionately ... understandingly ...
and, not the least, devotedly ...

I posted this in 2013 and felt the urge of posting it again.

Under my username as Summerwind, (aka windyweatherly), which I replaced in honor of the person who meant so much to me then.

With special thanks to Ondos who created this video.

Dedicated to all those in pain, like me and those who make the difference like my friend, Tess and Reguiny. Phil you taught me a lot and I am blessed to have met and be your friend.

Forever grateful,

Phyllis

Polly wanted love so much
she saw all the other girls chased by boys
smiling..holding hands....kissing (gulp!)
folks barely spoke to Polly
and especially not boys
she crept through life as an embarassment
a silent mass of skulking apology
her stiff legged teetering strides
left observers shaking their heads
she could rarely bring herself to look another in the face
....never in the eyes
her face always appeared as though frozen
her eyes an empty void
almost lacking life
blank of all emotion, except one...
fear...trepidation...dread
her mind a whirling nest of confusion
she had little family
her mother died in chidbirth
...Polly's birth
her fire and brimstone preacher father
had nothing to offer Polly but guilt
paralyzing her every thought and move
so she learned not to do much of either
she had no brothers or sisters
left isolated to live the hell...
her father was always ranting about avoiding
he tendered no warmth, no love
leaving her cramped alone in a cold miserable space
today is April 1st...Polly's birthday
her eighteenth, though no one would notice
but on this spring day
in her final year of high school
she became aware of something...different
in class that day, there was a new student...a boy
he acts like a shy, quiet person, she mused
later, as she sat alone during lunch break
she noticed that someone was standing beside her
it was the new boy at school!
as his voice cracked he stuttered...
'may I, um, um, sit at this table, um, with you?'
Polly was unable to breathe
til at last she squeeked out 'uh, uh, okay'
he sat down across from her
never raising his vision from his food on the table
he spoke 'uh my name is uh, Paul'
Polly's head was reeling...
a boy was sitting with her, talking to her
she muttered 'uh huh', then was taken mute
staring glassy eyed straight down before her
her heart beating as if to burst!
but not another word passed between the two
Paul ate his meal, then stood up, hesitated for a moment...
then silently, merely strode away
Polly's downward stare was transfixed...her food half-eaten
Paul and Polly never spoke to one another again
it was over...between them

Paloma ending;
The curtain comes down
For the night.
Raven beginnig;

FOR HER HEART RACED AS RAGING RIVERS
AND ZEALOUS LOVE
THE DANCE OF ANCESTORS
WILD AND UNTAMED
WITH A FIRE LIT INSIDE, SHE TURNS
WITH A WANDERING SPIRIT
FULL OF SPRITE
INTO HER CAMP SHE DANCES
TINY FEET COVERED WITH GOLD
THAT JINGLE WITH EVERY MOVE
HER HEARTH IS WARM ALL AGLOW
LIGHT ILLUMINATES FROM HER BELOVED
AROUND SHE DANCES
HER SKIRT MAGICKAL SWAY
WITH A LAUGHTER OF SWEET MELODIES
HER HAIR BLACK AS A RAVEN
WILDLY FLOWING FROM THE SOFT BREEZE
EYES DEEP WITH MYSTERY
SKIN RAVISHED FROM THE SUN
AND SOUL BORN TO BE FREE
A SENSUOUS CREATURE TO BEHOLD
HER DELICATE HANDS PAINTED WITH HENNA
THAT TRAILS AS IVY
SENSUAL FULL LIPS AS IF PAINTED
AND A FACE OF EXOTIC BEAUTY
SHE PLAYS AMONG THE FAIRIES
AND KISSES THE SUN
FOR HER FORTUNE DOETH AWAIT
IN TOWNS UNKNOWN
FOR HER SECRETS ARE IN THE CARDS
AND PATRONS DO PAY
FOR THIS TINY DANCER
CAN SEE
TALES OF OLD
BUT IN THE BASK OF MOONLIGHT
HER BEAUTY UNFOLDS
ONLY CREATURES OF NIGHT
SEE A MAGICKAL SIGHT....

Quashing mendacious Reps achieved 'Swear Jar' way
for each action unbecoming they should pay
Simply fine Politicians and Media $1,000 per falsehood
erase National Debt in short time it would

After voted in candidates ditch promises to you
facilitate corruption is precisely what Politics do
Open border policy every true patriot decries
gov't 'of, by and for the people' rarely applies

Dems pretend Empathy to solicitate illegals vote
when about Americans suffering they literally gloat
Perpetually spewing lies liberals adopted style
In 'Most Wicked' competition Leftist by a mile

Green New Deal devastating our Mother Earth
she's managed magnificently alone since birth
Good and Evil engaged in Ideological war
at present evils prevailing if keeping score

Haves and have nots reality from beginning
after dust settles righteous ends up winning

copyright 3/6/22

Talk to me slowly you should know me
Trust my reply even when you are blue as the sky
Never let your heart be a pretender
When love is real we both surrender

Words of love will never grow old
Ours is a love story that's never been told
And as we walk together our eyes will see the future bright
Eternity will be our treasure and God will give it to us with his delight

When magic is something only your heart can hold
A magic love story that's never been told
One day when we tell it angels will decorate heaven just right
And then together we will tell it with delight

My Friend


Don’t fret , there is no threat
We have the will
For all the thrills and frills
It’s just the beginning
What comes our way is very enduring
Journey is rough
We have to be tough
Dying to hear your first spoken words
Just like one of a very young baby
Our first meet to look
In each other’s eyes
And to ask in unspoken words
Where have you been all my life ?


Silly me and my childishness .

Rubber and tin
tonic and gin
deep in Malaya
Wallace rose
to the sight
of Atkins
parading
like the Sultan's emissary
towards his hut
No finer man
could he have procured
for such a mission
he determined,
resolutely confident
amongst his peers.
"A day for the cool of the hills Wallace"
"Indeed Sir" he responded, "'tis destiny that finds us at the mercy of this wretched jungle but we shall overcome the odds my good man"
He drank from the rainwater vessel before they set off for the interior.
On a rise they took view of the valley plateau that ran from the river to the distant mountains, green with wild fruit trees and rice paddies.
"The objective Atkins is to wrestle a lease from these inhabitants, should they be disposed to entreat us so, we must give the impression that the Sultan has allied with us in spirit my man, that these lands are bound for greater duty to humanity"
Atkins stared at the hills, the prospect amused him as it had when presented by Wallace's predecessors.
"A vision it is Wallace" he replied somewhat unctuously
"A vision it is"

Midnight in the darkness

The large snow flakes fall

Illuminated only an instant

Passing by my window

Slowly growing in a pile

My eyes still longing sleep

Stare blankly into the yard

The white lines running

Follow down the length

Of the red barn boards

Silence of a winter night

Even the softest sounds

Are absorbed and muffled

By the soft cold feathers

Of the fresh fallen snow

Glowing in the gray mist

A hidden moon struggles

To keep in celestial flight

Giving an even duller light

And barely a tree a shadow

Midnight in the darkness

The riverboat eased downstream Wallace resting
on sacks of fruit, he cursed his boots as his feet swelled.
Two laconic barefoot fishermen squinting in the evening light
ran lines into the opaque waters.
He could observe the jungle expanse from his post,
verdant and vined, primitive noises and life, it seemed neither friend nor foe.
At least he had met Atkins, who he trusted with jungle lore, and despite his
apparent predilection for opium, he knew Atkins had sway with the village elders, and could muster men to a cause. Tomorrow they would set out across the flats towards the hills, with rifles, supplies, water and quinine.