Poetic Journey in Personal Discovery

Posts tagged ‘ponder’

Paper Planes…


Against unknown odds
Far removed from urban plights
A single piece if paper
A faith orchestrated flight
Released from hopeful hands
Solitude, her company
Unsure of the final destination
She paints mental pictures of real fantasies

For, what are we without our dreams
Without our untamed ponderings
Strange as the thought may be
We’re each paper planes set free

©E.D. Allee
May, 2014

Image: http://freshdayahead.com/2013/01/let-go-of-negativity-believe-the-truth-of-what-god-says-about-you/



When up, then up
When down, then down
The in between is middle ground

May sound simple
May appear transparent
Because the logic is sound

When scrupulously examined
When combed, with fine tooth
We’ve limited liberty to haughtily expound

Because up isn’t always up
Because down isn’t always down
And sometimes there is no middle ground

©E.D. Allee
May, 2014

Image: http://unshavedmouse.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/alice-upside-down.jpg





Attempting to consider today, the events of tomorrow.

Allowing the many joys in life to be overshadowed by sorrow.

Memories so powerful they haunt and control.

Life’s contradictions challenging the truth we know.


Condemnation inflicted by times past.

Getting what we want, not wanting what we have.

The road we are on and the road we need to find.

The transition to, existence, and mystery of the afterlife.


The whispers in life that the wind swiftly carries.

The tide that’s controlled by the moon as it varies.

The sands that are traveled day in and day out.

Feelings of despair and feelings of doubt.


Webs, unwillingly embraced by silken wings.

The music of the raindrops as they rhythmically sing.

The sound of a train as it comes to a halt.

The instinctive way a heart beats when it knows it is at fault.


Dangers present, yet undiscovered by the mind.

The small ticking sound we’ve given to majestic time.

Our stream of thoughts, interrupted.

Our vision of morals, corrupted.


Flowers that bloom only in the dark of night.

A sunset, still beautiful after a gruesome fight.

The tears that fall with joy in the heart.

A human spirit broken, yet not fallen apart.


The masterpiece in art by the stroke of a brush.

The way we all have time, yet still we all will rush…

©E.D. Allee

February 1993

Written back in the day when I was 17, with some revision.


picture: http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/pierre-auguste-renoir/the-thinker-1877

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