The field of poetry is vast and ancient. This is only a minute sampling of styles with some brevity of origins.
A man watches the sunrise and the affect the sun and the sky has on the land around him. He understands how small he is in the scheme of things as he looks around the beauty of a landscape. For a moment he sees this wonder with the innocence of child before experience and education to...
It's a poem about a frosty morning. The grass is silver and trees have beautiful white coats that help capture a scene of a magical few moments. A pale sun turns the fields of pure gold as it catches frosty ground. Some see a winter morning as just that, a winter morning. But some see...
Something I wrote a long time ago not long after my ex wife left me. It was one of the most difficult periods in my life.
And wispy smoke that so gracefully curled Above the green young elms; to a sky If peace can be found in this fragile world The humble man might find hope here
When will we despise eternal fate. Urged on by twisted views of religion burned and branded into us. The infernal gate ensures we force ourselves into the passage of the flames. Everything has been told, yet untold.
There is a healing in a hidden place where one may yearn for peace and pardon. Find the gate, then walk on forever and you will be met by the Creator.