Walking in a field
found a flower or two
can't quite remember
lost in a daze that day
going through my thoughts
I wish I could remember
We're they red or blue
oh well it was a just a day
walking in a field
I'm sure I'll do it again
maybe next time
I will remember
red or blue

© Jennifer Delong 3/2018
You ask me how I am feeling and yet I can't begin to describe the jumble of feelings I keep hidden inside.
I can't tell you I won't always be this way
I can't tell you why I've hidden away.
Most of all I can't make you stay.
As much as I want you I can't help but watch you walk away.
Maybe my feelings will never see the light of day.
I guess in the dark I am here to stay.
Jack Bennett Feb 24
Mountains, paths

Beginnings and ends

My soul leaps for the sky

When I take that first step
Watching car grills shimmering in the Southeastern sun
Listening to music with my mind on pause.
Jumping out of cars and walking home on my own
I see a tall blonde woman and a short black man walking home
She's holding her shoes, he's stumbling.
And I'm home before I know it, peeling my velvet jacket off, taking a long shower...
I listen to the music again,
Because it's always there.
I'm walking away, what I really want is for you to give me a reason to stay.
A reason for me to stop feeling this way.
Did I really mean nothing to you?
Is it the way I behave that drives you away, don't forget you made me this way.
It's supposed to be unconditional Love, I guess it's not true what they say.
You can't love me and I will be ok, maybe not today or tomorrow or a year from now.
I will make my life better somehow.
Then you can live with knowing it was nothing to do with you, the person I will become and the person I am now, the one you never knew how to love.
Free from a life, without trouble or strife.
Andrew Ewen Feb 12
Life can be tough, when it feels like you're walking your path alone.
The problems of your past can make it hard to let anyone in.
It maybe okay to be a lone wolf sometimes, but does it make you happy?
No one to talk to, to make you smile or to make you laugh can make this world a lonely place to live.
Are you lonely by choice or are you scared to let yourself feel vulnerable?
Is it better to have the emotional capacity of a robot or to be an open book?
Some people say you're born alone and die alone, but who says you have to live alone?
Who do you create memories with?
You are unique and your perfect match is out there.
Jackie Mead Feb 5
The sky was bright blue
The clouds were white
The sun was shining gold
But not a bit of warmth came from the sun it was still bitterly cold

You dressed in a winter coat, a scarf around your throat, gloves upon your hands
Still the wind came blowing and chilled your bones, your face and ears and even your toes

Walking brisk and quickly the sun began to get stronger and you began to warm
Soon your removing your scarf and gloves as the wind drops and the sun shines and you begin to glow

It's a beautiful day, a classic winter day with the
Sky bright blue
The clouds bright white
The sun shining gold
And now you've warmed up the wind has dropped and your headed for home
Inspired by my walk today,  it really was beautiful out but freezing at the same time
I can see the latest
colours come walking
down the street.
Soft pavement at
the feet.
Lovely leather covered
So pampered
and so neat.
As you're
walking down
the street.

I can see the latest
fashion come walking
down the street.
Pastoral print
You do not stop
to greet.
Soft pavement
at the feet.
Lovely leather covered
So pampered
and so neat
walking down
the street.

copyright 2006  Verlie Burroughs
Originally titled Thanksgiving 2006.
sarah Feb 26
walking through the city streets
the sky dark
yet the world aglow
with street lights
and stars alike.
the air is cold
yet warm with presence,
for despite being alone,
there are people all around you.
I step out of my problems
as my feet trace the path
that follows the narrow stream.

People miss the forest for the trees,
but those of us who probe
at where distracting thoughts begin
find themselves striding to the rhythm
of the beating heart of the woods.

I walk here each day,
and cross at the same brook
a large family of ducks.
Every time I see them,
the ducklings are less in number
and the foxes look a little fatter.

And yet the wood is overflowing with life
in spite of such loss!  
When my own time comes,
as my breath ebbs away,
maybe I’ll remember those lost ducklings–
brothers, family, friends–
but will I weep
or will it be as a dream
where I’m a stranger to myself?
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