Where are my Wings

Where are my wings

Where are my wings?

I need to fly!

I think I did,

Long ago,

On winged words,

Hovering on,

Intense emotions,

Taking flight,

On delirious thoughts,

Breaking free,

From the tedium of life,

Soaring high,

In a flash.

Spiraling up,

In potent imagination,

Transported to,

Distant lands,

Which in time,

Never existed.

The mind,

Barely understood,

Thoughts,

Scarcely reached,

Ideas hardly stretched

Dreams faintly grasped,

Imagination alone,

Could reach.

A sublime space,

Where words wrote,

Themselves,

In heavenly bliss,

Enchanted verses,

Plumed in gold,

Freckled with star dust,

Dappled with glittering diamonds,

Escaped from the pen,

Unfettered and free,

At the slightest,

Drift of thought!

This poem describes the plight of a writer who had lost her words, the magic flow of underrated thought and imagination. It was as if a dam was built over a free flowing river that suddenly found itself unable to meander and flow to its heart content. Writers often experience such blocks which restrains the free flow of thought and words. The joy of writing suddenly vanishes and forced writing often sings the same ditty over and over again like the waters fenced in by the dam. 

Where are my wings © 2018 sofspoetry by sofs

Down The Memory Lane

This poem is about the author walking down memory lane where she finds more clarity in the present, she looks at the past with more objectivity and wisdom born from experience and realizes that life is but a muddle of memories. Being a person with a positive outlook on life she consciously decides to store only those happy ones.  Here you join her as she walks down memory lane. 

Down The  Memory Lane 

 Down The Memory Lane

Walking down memory lane,

I took the street called past,

Standing at the cross roads,

Where life met confusion last.

I perceive wholesome clarity now,

Where perplexity once reigned,

I see wisdom play,

Where I in ignorance remained.

I observe sorrows past,

Pass me by in haste,

Laughter alone sojourns,

Hurts completely erased.

I reach my street,

Once heavily loaded,

With the good, bad and horrid,

Now with pure happiness stacked.

Joyful scenes in rosy tints,

Welcome me as I return,

Peals of laughter ring out loud,

As my merry songs I hum!

Memories are strange things indeed,

They clump together with speed,

Where past, present and future seamlessly blend,

Where one begins and another ends,

To discern I don’t pretend.


Down The Memory Lane© sofspoetry by sofs