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MV Blake Mar 2015
Tired and tied tight
To the unyielding plough,
I scream myself hoarse
Into the silent field
Of endless toil.

Knee deep in the sludge,
Shackled and blind,
A waning force
Too stubborn to yield,
Too proud to kneel.

At the last pull I fall,
Too weak to climb up.
My health they endorse,
Their intentions concealed,
"Come back when you're healed."

The carriage arrives
To take me away.
The knacker's draught horse
Bought from the field,
Naught but bone meal.
Meg Howell Feb 2015
With an outstretched hand
and an open heart
You make your mark on what you know
You'll take your mind
and a steady body
and create a life from the dust

Though there's wind outside
and a crackle in the sky
the fear that lurks is of a different kind
You tell me softly
with a quiver in your chin
that your fear of love keeps you hidden in

You say one day soon
when the clouds roll away
and the sun begins to shine
you'll love me that day

With a brain
deeper than the sea
the blue waters can't compare to what's inside of you
I know your pain
and your reason for shame
but I will hold on this wavering ground

You say one day soon
when the clouds roll away
and the sun begins to shine
you'll love me that day

And the flowers in the field they call
take my hand and sit with me
they cannot take away the thoughts you have
keep them locked away
keep them locked away
keep them locked away

You say one day soon
when the clouds roll away
and the sun begins to shine
you'll love me that day
This was written as a song. I have a deep, deep yearning for people with well, deep, minds and kind hearts. I believe that the person this song is addressed to is also part of me somewhere. It kind of is about a fear of committing and loving and thinking because the world/culture makes it seem like these things are foreign and wrong. The world makes it seem as if one night stands and meaningless *** is what life is about. There's no love in that. I want something real and something the world can't take away. That is absolutely what this poem/song is about.
Those very alluring eyes,
that sparkles even in sunlight
Those curly and shiny hair,
that i wish to run my fingers through
You're very handsome face,
that I can take to look at every seconds left in my life
I never believe then in love-at-first-sight,
But at the very moment I laid my eyes on you,
I started imagining my life with you
Seeing you for the first time,
Is the best 5 minutes of my life
I believe that we are destined to see each other again.


.
Heeeeey, happy hearts! The one I'm referring here is someone I saw during our field trip in an amusement park. He has a curly hair which attracted me most. That is why I called him Eros. After that moment, his face never left my mind.
skyblueandblack Jan 2015
A girl once wandered along a field of flowers, feet bare
Carefree and unafraid of what she might encounter there

She knew the thorns she removed from her staunch heart
were the launching point, from the point of depart

With the promises that come with the freedom of wings
that portend magical Hope and other beautiful things.

She stopped in the midst of flowers abounding
held out her arms to soak in the sun’s rays astounding

Her head raised high, her eyes serenely closed
no more tranquil an image could have been posed.



Soon thereafter, a feather from the heavens fell
suddenly appearing, as if cast from a spell

It gently danced and glided, sought out her hand
as if searching for a place to land

A feather of the most vibrant hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

No sooner had the feather ended its flight
there followed a most ethereal sight .

It was the most exquisite bird,
and suddenly,
something within the girl’s staunch heart stirred.



On her outstretched hand, the bird gracefully landed,
peered into her soul, her attention it commanded.

Resplendent and fine, its feathers in all those dazzling hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

She could not help but caress those fine feathers,
as she stood amidst the irises and the heathers.

The bird sang a melody so sanguine and so sweet
only briefly it lingered in sorrow,
a song reminiscent of times long past,
and a subtle promise of tomorrow.



As the bird then moved to the palm of her hand
its beauty, a stunning mesmerization;
the awareness that it may soon fly away
was a sudden and terrifying realization.

She held it with care, grateful for each moment
treasuring each offering like a gift from a lover
Is your heart here to stay, she wanted to ask,
or does it belong to another?

You are not from this place, she thought to herself
You belong in paradise, your heavenly abode
Are you visiting, dear wanderer? Or lost, searching for home?
Still pursuing a path along your designated road?

How easy it would be to close that hand
hold the exquisite bird there forever..
It would sing to her every day,
A bond that would not sever.

But love is not of a forced possession
In her being, this she knew.
That vibrant light would surely dim
There would be no more vibrant hue



And so she wandered on in the field of flowers,
towards the blazing horizon of the dusking sky.
The majestic bird perched upon her open hand
as it sang the songs of days gone by.

Fear remains, along with many thoughts awoken
they set behind the fiery orange-crimson sun,
they hide behind fragile promises spoken,
and gold-gilded intentions begun.

Twilight descends, infused with the disquiet dark brings
accentuated by the stillness of night..
‘but the morning brings strength to her restless wings*’
and Hope, emerges with the Light.
“Behind the blood-stained curtains of Love,
there are fields of flowers where lovers wander...
To wander in the fields of flowers, pull the thorns from your heart.”
~ Rumi
http://skyblueandblack.com/2014/04/09/wanderers-in-a-field-of-flowers/
*Jackson Browne
Chase Gagnon Jan 2015
You're my stillborn butterfly
afraid of your new beauty
with limp wings,
pried from the safety of your cocoon
by my old hands
in a forest where everything
is charred.
Only the skeletal trees
once lush with life and birdsong
can admire your strange elegance
as you lay listless on their roots
that thirst for a storm of passing love
and thunder.

I want to carry you away
to my field of wildflowers
and resurrect you with the unmasked glow
of the shy moon, who only shows its face
in this meadow of lies.
I'll watch the breeze wake you on my fingertips
then let you fly away, carelessly
into a world of color
I'll never compare to.
Lynn Greyling Dec 2014
I  am  a  sight  so  sorrowful
I  cannot  bear  to  think,
what  ­little  children  feel
when  they  stumble  upon  me.

When  I  n­od  to  show  them
what  my  intentions  are,
they  turn  and  ru­n  from  me
and  watch  me  from  afar.

When  I  smile  and  bec­kon
them,  to  come  to  me,
I  sadly  have  to  see
them  cringe  a­nd  cry out loud.

When  I  beg  them  to  stop
and  listen  to  my  song,
they  look  at  one  another  
and  stare  at  me  in  awe.

Oh ­ why  can’t  they  come  closer
to  see  my  beady  eyes
a-blinki­ng  with  my  tears
wherein  my  sorrow  lies?

Oh  why  can’t  they  come  close  e­nough
to  see  my  shoulders  frail,
bent  forward  by  the  wind­
and  rain  and  storm  and  hail?

Oh  why  cannot  they  see
my­  body  hanging  limp,
a  lifeless  shapeless  pity
with  only  w­ithered  hope?

A  sad  and  lonely  scarecrow
standing  in  a  lonesome  field,
destined  to  spend  my  days
­in  endless  sorrowful  ways.
Sometimes a role necessary to fulfill is not recognised by anyone as being worthy.
matt Nov 2014
dreams i haven’t had a dream in what feels like years. dreams are a foreign to my head at night there are only nightmares. i guess i could always buy a crappily made dream catcher from the dollar store but what use would it really have. the fact that some people believe that a dollar store dream catch all the nightmares is silly. I’ve had nightmares for years and no sign of any dreams. i guess it was a waste of a dollar. until a life changing event happened. suddenly i was flooded by dreams. dreams of the future of the past of the present and of what could have been. that last one doesn’t mean much to me anymore. its funny now that i think of it I’ve had somewhat of a reoccurring dream the last few nights. there has been a figure off in the distance looking towards me. i can’t tell who or what it is its been to far away to make out the shape i can only tell it is human like from here. but as the dreams continue the figure becomes less blurred and comes out of the shadows. the figure is still unfamiliar to me at this point but last night i had another dream. i was standing in a field alone and out in the distance i could see the figure closer than ever. i could see ****** features almost perfectly. i can’t believe my eyes when i look and see that figure is familiar to me i didn’t believe it. when i looked at the figure well it was you.
Harper H Halite Nov 2014
Wild flowers kiss the ground
The dawning sun warms the sky
Tiny clouds float on by
And fields of shiny golden waves
Whisper hi.
This is my rendition of Selah Washington in the early morning as the sun is rising and the earth is beginning to wake.
William Keckler Nov 2014
The field of red flowers
on white stems.
Hurry home.
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