Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"untravelled" poems
#Hair styles Hair colors Hairdos Hairfall Blonde Brunette Redhead Grey Or just black A few strands of which I found in her comb In one untravelled recess of wardrobe An untouched memento From past two decades Not graying Not growing Undeclined Undestroyed black and thick the only relic for her son!#
0
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 6:23 AM UTC
Hair
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn— A print of a vermillion foot— A purple finger on the slope— A flippant fly upon the pane— A spider at his trade again— An added strut in Chanticleer— A flower expected everywhere— An axe shrill singing in the woods— Fern odors on untravelled roads— All this and more I cannot tell— A furtive look you know as well— And Nicodemus’ Mystery Receives its annual reply!
0
2.7k
An altered look about the hills
My shy hand shades a hermitage apart, - O large enough for thee, and thy brief hours. Life there is sweeter held than in God's heart, Stiller than in the heavens of hollow flowers. The wine is gladder there than in gold bowls. And Time shall not drain thence, nor trouble spill. Sources between my fingers feed all souls, Where thou mayest cool thy lips, and draw thy fill. Five cushions hath my hand, for reveries; And one deep pillow for thy brow's fatigues; Languor of June all winterlong, and ease For ever from the vain untravelled leagues. Thither your years may gather in from storm, And Love, that sleepeth there, will keep thee warm.
0
1.7k
My Shy Hand
she departed forever never looked back never came back lit up like a phoenix August forest perished in blazes of passionate hope she departed forever to lands unknown and roads untravelled left behind her innocence lost and youth gone by never looked back never came back
0
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
she departed forever
You're the dark blue hue set over the beauty of untravelled worlds Drawing me back to the blanket of a comforting home Drowning me in sickly sweet memories Turning my hopes and my dreams to pointless could of beens You're the poloroids stuck to the shabby cabin walls A constant burning reminder of what I left behind A snapshot of a non-existent place That I yearn so hard to go home and find You're an anxious longing for untouched perfection I wish to hold it in my gentle hands A love for the soft yet constant melody Of an old song from my favourite band You hold me back, hugging me in the comfort of your wooden arms I'm oblivious that the plane I board will turn your wood to charcoal And my perfect metallic palace Will rust in the acid rain
0
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 3:36 PM UTC
Hiraeth
As I pond-       er the stream               Of life, I brook                        Our oceans              Lost, our rivers         Unexplored, estuaries    Untravelled, tributaries       Unseen; our courses   Diverged,              our ways Parted like                  the Red Sea,     We drifted                on the tides    Like ships                caught on waves Carried on                   torrid floods,      Riding the             cascading torrents        Over strange      uncharted waters,        And yet if our     paths ever flow              To meet in some channel                    On a distant shore,                        Expect no tears,                             No weeping,                                   I won't cry                                         You a river
0
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
A Lonely Voyage
Whatever. I thought that I: lost the power fell from grace left behind the Presence Yet it remains anchored Steadfast It cannot be stripped from me by a church that has exiled me I was never to a Sunday Christian anyway The gifts and the call of God are irrevocable ...were not given to me by man, only confirmed.. Man cannot take it away The heart I was given the spirit that defines me the gifts I share The most important lesson I have ever learned - that: "To love is to give" will not be blotted out of my notebook. So what am I? I don't know All I know is that my purpose here Is to guide to reveal to those whom I sent "You are not mere clay...Breathed of God is your first breath...and the light of eternity will shine upon your last" No river is crossed No path untravelled No passage unjourneyed ...to which the gateway is not found within. Beyond the boundary of the accepted, tolerated, comformable is where you will find this cleric Preaching in bars reaching out on the streets My only prayer: Let me continue to defy Assumptions of what can, should be done. And in the end... we shall all be on the long road home
0
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 5:31 PM UTC
Why I am not an Ex-Missionary
What could have been, What should have been, Sometimes seem more appealing, Than what is The roads untravelled, The dreams never sought, The desires compromised, Sometimes take their toll. Who would I have been, If what could have been, Had been. Would I still be writing this poem, Wondering, What would have happened, If I had taken a different turn Or, would I be just writing different lyrics, And try to have them fit On the same old music? I guess, There would always be A road untravelled, Or a poem left abandoned, unfinished Stories ending before they could begin, The mystery behind the what could have beens. So, this is a shout out, To all the lives I'll never live, And the people I'll never be, But where I landed, And who I'm, It is up to me, To make it worthwhile, And I reckon, It is still a feat Worth celebrating 'Cause, As appealing, as the roads untravelled might be, Nothing beats the experience And the excitement, That the roads we travelled have brought
0
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
The roads not travelled
An orphaned sky so painful blue shone on wasteland beautiful travel save, ye lonely bird and take care of your thought and word a single beat, a single song abandoned lands, a moan so long hurting kind, oh bless my soul melancholia will take its toll contoures blurred in a view unkind the difference of the second sight a stone uncarved the tide unfilled unequation - remain in light straight ahead neither left, nor right straight ahead, nor left, nor right things unsaid, things undone, things unsomething, songs unsung, the road untravelled, the weakness strong, the deeds so many but too many turns wrong oh faithful breath ye gentle wind make me see the morning light straight ahead not left not right…
0
Apr 8, 2022
Apr 8, 2022 at 3:00 AM UTC
things
Skimming down the road, Fingers embraced by the passing wind, Trying to race to the western promises. Passing into lands previously untravelled, Towards the glow emenating from those golden opportunities, Almost as if taking flight towards the stark blue horizon. Not long to go, Just a push and a plunge, A great fall to the left on the map. In search of a better future, As great plains are traversed, The beacon of answers to great questions lay ahead. Skimming down the road, Fingers embraced by the passing wind, Trying to outrace the eastern storm. Lessons in the trunk, A case of tenacity in the passenger seat, Goals hogging the back seat. The wind tussling hair as it passes, A gentle greeting as the countryside opens up, The air clearer with every mile. Everything seeming sharper, Like a previously unknown haze being pulled from the eyes, Colors vibrant and new. Skimming down the road, Fingers embraced by the passing wind, Chasing the setting sun and running from the night.
0
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
Westward