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chitragupta Oct 16
The sky exploded red that evening
as the sun descended on the valley
and in the silhouette
I remember
the oil lamp lit up by her door

With cold winds and tired legs
I made it up the stony trail
and through the fatigue
I remember
her little hut puffing chimney smoke

A simple meal to fill me,
a fire to remedy the frost
and in the light of the flame
I remember
her eyes adorned with a desolate shine

Night fell soon after
stars danced in the naked sky
and as the moonlight kissed the peaks
I remember
her warm hands subtly grasping mine

On the morrow
we said our farewells
but as I started my descent
I remember
a sudden pang of insoluble woe

and I rushed back
the path of green and stone
with all the nerve I could muster
I remember
leaving a letter in a makeshift envelope

As often as I was entitled
I found myself back in the lone hamlet
as if to keep an unspoken vow, every time
I remember
her eyes of sadness, her smile of greeting

until the day we broke tradition
for there was no familiar face
where the trail ended
I remember
the cruel north wind cutting me open

A decade since,
of prayers to false gods in prodigal shrines
and with eyes shut
I remember
her hair billowing before the winter snow

In the monotony of city lights,
of skyscrapers and street neons
rising cigarette smoke up in the sky
I remember
the dance of the stars, the warmth of her hold


Every time
I dare go up the hill since
and gaze at the empty summit,
These memories seem to keep waning

So as I move across the highway this time
I remember
to forget the trail route to heaven.

love is not multi dimensional.
its just a multitude of single dimensions.
Bhill Oct 2020
a pleasant memory of riding in cars
taking us to places so near and so far
looking out the windows in amazement and wonder
as we pass all the sights that make our minds ponder
the freeways, the streets, the canyons, and alleys
rolling along at great speeds and right through the valleys
through the window you see, a whole different world
as the wheels roll along and the sights are unfurled...

Brian Hill - 2020 # 298
Fheyra Apr 2018
Let us summon the Name of Everyone and Everything.
An accolade bestowed upon His greatness,
Where doves soar to the valleys of wisdom
Seeking for wonders love by Him.

Put a tune, or a note
To a song of faith
Is here to guide you in...
           "Gotta keep soaring high
             Keep climbing mountains,
            ' Till I rise my Heart
              Never gonna hold back
              Never gonna stop
              You know I won't give up
              It's the Spirit You put in me
              And the fight is to believe
              Oh, I'll be chasing clouds
              'Till I reach the edge of Life"

Take courage and have faith
For God is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
Oh Lord, bless us all.
LC Apr 2020
she stops at a plateau.
everywhere she looks, she sees
distinct memories from her past.
to the left are cotton candy skies,
fields of rainbow gumdrops.
straight ahead are the ruins,
ash and tar darkening the land.
to the right are serene clouds
paired with flashes of lightning.
she's not sure if there are
mountains or valleys ahead,
but after seeing her past,
and who she is now,
she's ready to continue her journey.
#escapril day 5!
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
by Michael R. Burch

Here the hills are old and rolling
casually in their old age;
on the horizon youthful mountains
bathe themselves in windblown fountains . . .

By dying leaves and falling raindrops,
I have traced time's starts and stops,
and I have known the years to pass
almost unnoticed, whispering through treetops . . .

For here the valleys fill with sunlight
to the brim, then empty again,
and it seems that only I notice
how the years flood out, and in . . .

This is an early poem that made me feel like a “real poet.” I remember writing it in the break room of the McDonald's where I worked as a high school student. I believe that was at age 17. "Observance" was originally published by Nebo as "Reckoning." It was later published by Tucumcari Literary Review, Piedmont Literary Review, Verses, Romantics Quarterly, the anthology There is Something in the Autumn, and Poetry Life & Times. Keywords/Tags: hills, mountains, valleys, time, seasons, years, fall, leaves, flood, cycle, horizon, brim, rim
Aruna Jan 2020
Drifting through the mountains and valleys,
Shinning stars creating a trail in mist,
Lost and found myself in clemency slowly,
Clearer the thoughts, hope at last.
The soil that has found that ultimate happiness is forgiveness.
Bones of ebony ivory drunk ate sing
Shaping the plates numbered nailed
Narrows nine hanging sneakers.
A fading necklace
Tying her laces.

Know yourself to the wells of valleys,
She sang, her voice was swelling
Understand yourself like the
Valleys leading wisely
To the eternal tides.

Cliffed-edge hanging dresses blowing
A flag below her waist over wheels
Of her brave weathered suitcase.
Crystal wing bends portraits of
Dinner plates in place.

Lush hair lady ebony-pale ivory sang Through the valleys dressed like
Her portraits of dining plates
Which weathered storms
She would have chased.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
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