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Bhill Mar 2020
are we lost in the curves of life
winding in, and around, and straight through
straight through the crazy reality
in and around each other
all of us, surrounded by ourselves, but not really there

Brian Hill - 2020 # 78
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2019
Life is life
Winding streets
Moving feet

Take every step
With cautious care
You will get somewhere
Written 2010.. found it in my facebook memories
annh Mar 2020
Love travels sideways,
Down dark alleys,
Along winding country lanes;

Arrives late,
Hesitates too long,
Leaves early;

A journey to take,
A destination unmapped,
An invitation to linger when we least expect it.

Her clear lazuline gaze ******* my clumsy attempt at transparency, an unambiguous hesitation the length of a skipped heartbeat. I watched her eyes darken and spool as realisation ebbed and flowed, and ebbed and flowed again. 'Let’s go,’ she said, pulling me gently to my feet. 'And listen to the ocean breathe.'
annh Jun 2019
... intricate weavings unlaced,
winding steps retraced,
unleash the magic of the maypole,
god and goddess made whole...

Stark Nov 2018
Wind it up
So it beats
At a rhythmic pace

Skim your finger over it
Cherishing it
And its fragility

Shatter it
To let the emotions flow outward
As you have broken my heart
AD Letwixt Oct 2018
I follow the winding, the way beyond the farthest places
between trees knotted menacing with darkened faces
under mossy roots that twist and trip with a mischievous cackle
over heights and falls that beckon death's clanking shackle
and if you fall in, lose your precious breath
to tree limbs tangled scratching at vulnerable flesh.

A green roof above and green floor below
but my eyes look ahead, to where the silver meadows did grow
Remorse remembers all that passed before the eye
burnt of fire forgotten and ash was strewn across the sky
and now only memory does remain
of silver meadows and the golden rain.

This land is dampened with the morning dew
that daren't melt but for the light of moon
where mossy things are stowed in sunken places
and beautiful wonders lay behind rock faces,
I know the way, but do not lightly follow
As sunset brings forth demons beyond tomorrow.

I wish to find her: the lady silk
Her hands weaving threads of fates who twist and separate
her threads she brought from those older places past
Where nascent fauns with youthful voices fastly gleam and chatter
and deftly danced to delights in the silver meadows
When all was false and truth was shaded
all liars happily in reflections reflected
pale faces feinted in humorous deception
and all charismatic affectations were familiar expression.
singing songs of passing pleasures in strange dialect
All was serene was silver mirrors reflecting
save the flow of golden liquid cool and still
which seeped from sky to hill and then chalice filled.

I walk to see the lady
who has one eye black and one eye white
and carries a silver knife which- in moonlight flashes bright.
I will wearily watch for it's flashing tomorrow night,
for she doesn't know it, but I was also born of moon's pale light.
Wyatt Mar 2018
I've only ever had
myself as company.
It's given me
too much time
to bury in thought.
Collectors of life,
visited by death
every night still.
Future and pasts alike
share their space in present.
The wicks are thinning
and the hourglasses
are sinking in the sand.
Some give out their
welcoming presents
while others recite
their final words,
there's a will in every way.

Down the winding road
you meet friends and enemies,
but I will die clear and clean.
Broken every rule,
hurt harder than anyone.
Loved with all I had in this
little, shattered heart.
And anybody out there
who told you different
told the largest lie.
My stature will never
meet Mr. Potential,
but at least he tried.
Colm Mar 2018
are like sips of whiskey

is like the first Great River.

are because of my thirst

will flow forever
through the valley of eternal consciousness
Pulled straight from my first old thought journal.

I was told I had potential
That I could do great things
But nothing has transpired
Into the glory that it brings
And so the bar gets lowered
As far as it can go
Until, it can get no lower
No room for me to grow
Perspective is welcomed greatly
Opinions come and go

Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow

I've been stagnant without direction
As the years pass and I grow old
The consensus is its never too late
Or at least that's what I've been told
It's far, so far beyond my vision
Down that long and winding road
I once thought I held it in my grasp
But it slipped right through the fold

Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow

Greatness isn't given
Or earned through years alone
It's what we say and how we say it
It's with our words and tone
It's possible you've reached your peak
Up the mountain through the snow
It's still no cause to lower the curtain  
After each and every show

Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Nothing is more conducive
Than letting shine your inner glow

If there's a chance then you should take it
Show us all how much you've grown
From the prince who lost his kingdom
To a crowned king on his throne
Not everyone can make it
The choice is yours and yours alone
Just don't become complacent
When the world is yours to own

Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Nothing changes without change
When you still have room to grow
This started as a writing prompt many months ago. Directly due to positive feedback, it was made into this poem and ultimately, into a song.
This winding road I've traveled,
Once forgotten, twice removed.
Has left its mark upon my heart
Lost among the shadows, clouded by the dark.

This winding road has made familiar
Each trial I've had to bear,
Each turn a passing ray of light
Embracing me with care.

This winding road I look for
Each day I hasten now my pace
To quickly find the matter,
The secret to the race.

This winding road a test for me
To answer to the call.
God calls fourth his mighty army
To give witness to it all.

This winding road a straighter path
Familiar now it seems,
Not so deeply meant to be
A puzzlement for me.
September 20, 2000
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