Mountain King

Submitted by SURPRISINGPERSON on Mon, 04/20/2020 - 00:22

Blue mist, evergreen trees;
A tower of rock-brown and green.
Twin peaks, wreathed in clouds
Crown the stately mountain king.
No barren slopes will you see here,
On the ruler clothed in green.
He is great and unreachable,
No logger has come to glean.

The mighty lord is a shelter
For animals great and small;
A resting place so safe,
Lies on it's slopes so tall.
No human has climbed this mountain,
It's forests form a wall.
A peaceful hiding place
To avoid the winter's squall.


Submitted by Damaris Ann on Mon, 08/29/2016 - 03:02

Again I'm confus'd, bewilder'd and torn;
I feel like a Sampson shaven and shorn.
Betrayed by my fears and wond'ring "What next?"
I'm taken, again, right back to this text;
"...My peace give I unto you," Jesus said,
"...Not as this world gives," His men Spirit-led.
They were radical and strange yet trusting,
Whereas I'm radic'lly strange, and doubting.
"...Faith like a mustard seed..." can move mountains;
Yet my shoulders carry the mountainous plains.
"My yoke is easy and my burden light,"

GPS-chapter two

Submitted by Kassady on Sun, 10/07/2012 - 05:14

Chapter Two

I stumble out of the car and practically run to the undergrowth by the sheer rock face of the mountain. There was no way I could hold it anymore. I think my pee has frozen in my bladder for awhile. I shiver and try to keep my jeans from getting wet in the snow. It was hard to crouch down, it was awkward and I feel cold and wet. Finally I start to pee. But as soon as the urine hits the ground, a familiar red, rusting, truck appears on the top of the hill and starts to drive down to where we were.

Hedge of Mountains

Submitted by Bernadette on Thu, 01/19/2012 - 20:36

The winds were cold
From over mountains old
Where whistling stones were thrown
To rack the trees in forests dark

Moths were biting in the light
Of torches’ fire in the stark
When night was high upon the gale
White breath blowing in the hills

Shadows lay on backs of trees
Wither then many spread
and crossed the crooked stones
Which marked the winding road


Submitted by Hannah W. on Thu, 05/06/2010 - 16:23

**Two poems, unrelated except for they both have something to do with North, and both were written while I listened to a song called North. 1 is inspired by a character from a novel I'm working on, and 2 is just part of an idea that may one day become a novel, who knows.**