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03-29-2007, 03:28 PM | #1 |
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My Latest Poem
I wrote this poem not too long ago. It's about a place not far from where I live. This is where a gentlman friend of mine lives whom also I receive my hay from for my horses.
A long story short...But I have a girlfriend who is in love with this man. I wrote this poem for her. Eight Bales Of Hay. Taking a dirt road, winding and turning A silent sigh, a breath taken Eyes not needing to see Exactly knowing the special path Leading to eight bales of hay. Feeling the road underneath It brings you alive Breathing the air, lined in dust A smile covers the heart Taking each twisting turn slowly. Moving forward, revealing its truth Looking back an angel follows Wings protected in steel rushing Anticipating, she follows willingly Leading to eight bales of hay. This place is magical, singing If you stop and listen you will hear Echo's of dreams being made. Reaching out, surrounding tightly captured Selfishly taken for our own. The horses whisper Knowing the secrets told Carrying our dance, each step with grace. A pounding force never hesitating Patiently waiting,, following Leading to eight bales of hay. Every direction lies beauty Embellished streaks of sun on our backs. Bittersweet thoughts ring true Not escaping our minds, Stories told to few. Smiles embraced with a friend Sharing life's similar passion Each understanding a different path Leading to eight bales of hay. For a moment time has stopped Captured by a tear or a smile. A story told taking a journey Making it each our own. Our destination lead by the heart Being drowned with sips of life. Holding onto separate meanings, It's the same path we take Leading to eight bales of hay.
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~_/> , /\/\ ,,, Sheryl When I grow up I want to be a horse whisperer! Last edited by rivermom; 03-29-2007 at 03:30 PM. |
03-29-2007, 04:03 PM | #2 |
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Very very beautiful Sheryl. You are a very talented woman. Have you thought of or tried to be published?
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Traci |
03-29-2007, 04:05 PM | #3 | |
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Quote:
Oh heavens no Traci. But thanks! I just write for fun. Some of my others are a bit twisted.
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~_/> , /\/\ ,,, Sheryl When I grow up I want to be a horse whisperer! |
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03-29-2007, 04:09 PM | #4 | |
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Quote:
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03-29-2007, 11:13 PM | #5 |
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So glad you posted this! You sent this to me before my ofther computed got fried, and lost it. Now i have it back Thanksssssyouuuuuu
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03-30-2007, 03:12 AM | #6 |
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That was very, very nice. Sheryl you really should send a few of your poems off to see if they will be published. You're very talented.
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To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. ECCLESIASTES 3:1 |
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