All poems found containing the word dawns
Daniel Farrand-Bolas "But then again it dawns on me"

The best dream I ever had went by far too fast
It had me lying in the grass looking up
Resting next to blades blowing
Inward as I inhaled

A swirl flowing up and outward
In all directions the wind whirled
A washing machine around me
Wailing and wanting me to get carried away

But I maintained a straight arrow
Stare at the stars and
Saw so many of them shooting
I swear they were
Cosmic passing cars
A traffic jam of celestial
Extraterrestrial vehicles

In this lucid moment
I had that same epiphany
That we all have had consciously
One time or another in the same
Seemingly safe serenity

We are sand

Watching pebbles fly far away
Some already lived their lives
But still wink their eyes at us

Others hit the brink and
Try to breach our safety
A questionable security

As I see through this
My eyes align with clarity
I open my arms and
Allow the spin cycle to to complete
It's cleansing

I realize I'm soaked to the bone
With the wind knocked out of me
Again looking skyward without cyclone

I heave to catch my breath
But I know it was never really thrown
Through each huff and puff
I feel at peace with the unknown

I start to wonder if in this dream
I have a handful of quarters
To start the dryer

But then again it dawns on me
Wet with wisdom is where I want to be

Eyes open awake shut
Them forever

Johnnie Rae "Oh say can you see, by the dawns early light"

Oh say can you see, by the dawns early light
that doesn't shine so bright anymore. For soldiers are walking blind into a battle from which they may not return. But they stand tall as they wipe the blood from their wounds, because they know that they're helping a cause greater than all of us.

Diptesh "If I too find such dawns lovely:"

Early morning
After a sleepless night
Of thunderstorms and shrieking winds;
Now this clear dawn, the empty roads,
This sleeping world:
The orange ball rises, shyly,
Turning the snow-white peaks red,
Lighting the green valley
That lies ripe with yellow mustard.

Utterly beautiful,
Quite impossible
That such loveliness exists.

I am greedy.
I have this strange yearning
For an off-season mango,
And your presence;
The mango months
Are half a year away,
And you and I
Are forever split by the bounds
Of customs and propriety.

But this is a make believe world.
I find you by my side,
Laughing at my mango fondness;
You ask me, sleepy eyed,
If I too find such dawns lovely:
I answer, tongue-in cheek,
With a warm smile,
“Impossibly so”.

Diptesh Ghosh

Lambda "Night falls after dusk dawns."

Stripped skin,
Get your intoxication on;
Night falls after dusk dawns.

I can't justify it,
Only explain,
It's on my mind,
Choice, Change.

Less than three,
More than words,
Under the influence
and high on her.

Olivia Kent "Everyday dawns,"

Black Soul Baby!

Yesterday,
I played in blue,
Today,
I'm back in black,
He is a phantom,
Dashing delightful,
Skids down razor blades,
Rather risque,

It's believed!
In black,
Suited and booted,
Tied up in chains,
Remains of the day,
Call of the wild,

Echoes of everything,
A shadow passes,
Trapped in locked vaults,
Imprisoned in vague suffocation of breathlessness,
Everyday dawns,
More excitement he creates from his chasm,
As each day conspires in new writes,
Love is my black soul baby!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Henry Yarbrough "When morning dawns"

When morning dawns
And these dreams fade
No longer see
Your lovely face
Soft and low
Promises made
Where have you gone
Diamonds n lace
Visions of you
And angels sigh
I reach for you
And wonder why
I believe
You are my grace
When these dreams call
Your eyes the chase
Just to live
In your dark embrace
I would give my life
Give up this place
Can't you see
Your smile is starlite
Can you not see
You own the sun
When your not here
My tears like rain fall
I dream you near
When night is come.      Hy

mark john junor "dawns breaking mist"

she folds her man back into
his neat lines
she folds her lies back into their
well defined places
she drew a bath and drown the fears
she drew blades and let loose with
a little light carnage
always good for the soul
always good for the complexion


her false faces placed neatly aside
in the small hours of night
tears would come
small and dainty
perfumed and practiced
the tears would mirror the tale
would mirror the woe that must have
been in her heroines heart
been in her heroines soul
the tears would flow picture perfect
captured in a small vessel
to be tasted later
to show her true felt sorrows

in the the dawns breaking mist
a face dimly perceived
a man she would have known
if she had not chosen this path
a man who should have saved her
from herself
and she runs up the battle flags
and the the guards fire
volley after volley
till the apparition is vanquished
till the man withdraws
she folds him neatly back into the box
from whence he came
and carefully locks it up again
lest he escape

i lay in the ruin of
a distant castle
on the scottish shore
warm in my bedroll
with another woman by my side
such a distant place
of darkness long forgotten
a place of such hates long left behind

Keith Rushing ""Oh say, can you see by the dawns early light""

Often the news gives me the blues
I really ought to choose
to simply refuse
I mean really, what will I lose

Schadenfreude?
no that isn't it
truth is stranger than fiction
more like a fascination with the surreal
or a blinded  self-affliction with the scroungy real deal

Talking heads  that speak for work
punctuate sentences with erratic  head jerks
nobody normal talks that way, they ask  rhetorical questions
when the answer's are known, they’re killing time
“rephrase the question, run the clock  out
a commercial will spare us the embarrassment of doubt.”

Take’s a special person to face each new day
with zillions of prying eyes  hanging on every word you say
the mendicant voyeurs  of utter destruction’s  charming new  day
the slashing  machete melt down of the abject speakers foray
"Oh say, can you see  by the dawns early light"
What's become of your people  and their obsession with fright
desensitization  is paramount  to  achieve  an abeyance of light

Frankenfoods, and "side affects" hideous monsters in the making
high resolution mayhem require victims for the taking
awaking half-dead like Dracula’s  each dusk
they'll find a cure, there's another vaccine, there’s always dumb luck
maybe you won't be the sucker that makes that dreadful scene
bludgeon your mind with a another  faker, a different fresh  news team
fobbing  your leery eyes you ponder “they can’t  possibly all be  the same!”
different day, different month, different  year, same game

Josh Morter "As this fact dawns on him, knowing he shall always be alon"

A frail old man wanders aimlessly along the boardwalk of a deserted beach
Hunched over like the the boughs of an oak tree weighed down by its branches
Things burden this man.
Heavy in weight on mind and body

Once swarming with tourists in a way similar to flies around a porch light this beach is now dank and dismal to the eye
The preconceptions of flashing lights and rowdy parties filling its strip just reside as a distant memory in the depth of the deep blue.
On which he gazes out to after taking a long wheezing breath into his shrivelled lungs.

He stands alone reminiscing about previous conquests from his long distant youth
Thinking about all his relationships with friends and loved ones
Perusing through his memory bank as of he were a granddad proudly giving a slideshow to his only grandchild
And as a tear slowly trickles down his weathered face he reconciles with himself that like seeing the last copy of an acclaimed novel being sold he definitely let the one get away.

As this fact dawns on him, knowing he shall always be alone
He takes a deliberate pace towards the steps leading to the sandy wasteland that used to be so glorious and golden.
Gradually picking up speed and stumbling over himself he makes the journey to the edge of the water

Fully aware of the desire that is overtaking his mind, body and soul
The sea begins to seep into his shoes then dampens the tip of his trousers
Now with the water up to his waist he is shivering and struggling to catch his breath
But onwards he walks becoming stronger as he battles the waves cascading against his body.

Is this really what it has come to,
but as the last strand of his silky grey hair disappears into the salty blue
He feels the weight of the past float away and he is at peace
The water has cleansed his soul, rinsed his mind
Deep in the depths of the sea shall his regrets remain forever.
And as his body floats to the surface his soul rises higher and higher up to the clouds

Reaching the end his eyes catch a glimpse through the pearly whiteness
Of a silhouette he recognises
It stands facing away seeming to exude beauty like a single rose in hand of a romantic gesture
When he steps through the gates
The silhouette senses his presence and turns
He knows in that moment, he has made it
He is in Heaven.

Written on 22/02/13 by Josh Morter ©

I wrote this whilst on a journey; for no reason other than seeing the sea. I think I wrote for an hour and then stopped. Still unsure on name, but can't think of another one.
Sara L Russell "For in that worst of cataclysmic dawns,"

306 British & Commonwealth soldiers were shot at dawn for desertion in WW1.
Inspired by this fact and by BBC1's drama The Village

I

Good-hearted soldier marched away to war,
Sad-eyed mother and father watched him leave
To help a noble cause worth fighting for;
Or so the government had us believe.

Bereavements swiftly followed. He returned
For time on leave, a changed, embittered soul;
Troubled by death where distant fires burned
As month on month the shelling took its toll.

Mentor and loving brother, man of peace,
Such was this force of nature we once knew;
Now weighed down with all war's catastrpohes
So guilty to be of the living few.

Oh bitter hindsight, cruel hand of fate,
That says what we must do when it's too late!


II

I saw him walking back along the path
That headed to the seaport, bound for France;
So full of care, lost in the aftermath
Of bloody conflict, as if in a trance.

Then suddenly he stumbled to his knees
And crawled, down on his belly, cautiously
As though bullets were coming through the trees
As though to shelter from the enemy.

He raked the grass with darting, trembling hands,
His staring eyes were wide with urgency
His legs would not obey his brain's commands
His lips whispered a plea for clemency

I saw my love, he didn't see me there
Longing to save his broken soul with prayer.


III

Never was a more terrifying sight
Than naked terror, screaming from his eyes;
I still recall him staring, every night;
It haunts my dreams from dusk into sunrise.

I wanted to embrace him, stroke his hair,
To whisper words of solace from the Lord;
But sometimes prayer hangs on the empty air,
Sometimes we cannot rescue the adored.

Later I visited his lonely room
To find him on his bed, facing the wall.
He turned to meet my gaze, eyes full of gloom
As if no soul resided there at all.

I made him pray with me, for love Divine;
Heedless of God, he pressed his lips to mine.


IV

I blush, I burn with shame, when I recall
I gave in to his kisses willingly;
He wanted heaven's solace not at all
But took his earthly comfort all from me.

So long I'd waited, through his years away,
Wishing to win his love through some kind deed
Now in his trembling grasp, too lost to pray,
I lay entranced by passion's burning greed.

When it was over, I looked at his face
He seemed to see some bright epiphany
Perhaps at last he knew our Saviour's grace
At last his breath came slowly; evenly.

He murmured something as I rose to go
I knew I loved him, but never said so.


V

I never said I loved him. With the dawn,
His doomsday clock was ticking down his hours.
I never said I loved him, I was torn;
For what love sanctifies, wartime deflowers.

Hindsight has pierced my heart with bitter thorns,
Trampled my dreams, stolen all future joy;
For in that worst of cataclysmic dawns,
I never said I love you to that boy.

I never even said a last farewell
Though warm kisses still echoed on my skin;
My silence tortures me, I am in hell
I burn in silent wars I cannot win.

The Redcaps came and took away my Joe.
I loved him; and now he will never know.

 
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