My Soul It Speaks

My Soul It Speaks

 

my soul it speaks

not with words upon my lips

but with  sunlight peering through

umbrella trees

 

in quietude it speaks

of a slumbering sky

imminent of  snow,

of pea soup dawns

and morning walks

of resting  geese

on grassy knolls

 

it speaks to me

of winding roads

leading home,

of cups of coffee

brewing slow

stirring sweetly

theMcCartney  paths

of yesterday

 

in metered rhymes

with metaphors

of sounds of silence

of days of yore,

in turning pages

of novels read

the musicality

in my head

 

my soul it speaks.

 

Reviews

[A.H.]

I must say, this write - It speaks. What a wonderful piece of poetry here, Kelly. The soul after all can't be ignored, it speaks and we must listen to it. you portray this expression of soul so beautifully here, sunlight peering, umbrella trees, slumbering sky, pea soup dawns, winding roads leading home - sounds like music to my ears. enjoyed reading this so much, thanks for sharing.

[Kelly Scheppers]

I believe poetry allows our soul to speak. So thrilled you enjoyed this, Abhilash. Thank you!

[A.H.]

you're most welcome, Kelly.

[Gregoria Ahmed]

Kelly, this poem is like a slow morning walk through sentiment and reflection. The “McCartney paths” line especially warmed me, such a tender nod to memory through music. Your soul speaks in ways that linger. Thank you for the quiet beauty.

[Kelly Scheppers]

Thank you most kindly!

[Buddhistboy73]

An interesting write here...
I liked the line about sunlight through umbrella trees.....different.....

A pleasant flowing style and easy to read...and the final line about the "musicality in my head"......I always feel that people have a "song" in their head......something that only they know about...

Thanks for sharing this..

BB73

[Kelly Scheppers]

Thank you so much!

[Lara]

Mine to.

Your poem finds a place with me, Kelly.
It speaks on being somewhat a sponge absorbing and holding things around us that lend support to a place where we each may find our footing (in an otherwise chaotic paradigm)

[Kelly Scheppers]

Thank you, Lara. I'm so glad my words made you feel the same!

[Paul Michael Kelly]

I enjoyed this a lot. You've given us a tour, like a guide in a living museum; revealing to us what moves your soul. I know this way of being. I know that our language barely does it justice. But we keep trying nevertheless.

[Kelly Scheppers]

Thank you most kindly, Paul.

[Betty Hermelee]

Your soul speaks to you in so many reflective moods....that you portray so soft and imaginatively....and everyday life ...all the things that are memorable to you...that are satisfying to you...we all need to ponder what our life is about and call to mind what it is we enjoy the most....lovely!
Warmly, B

[Kelly Scheppers]

Thank you most kindly, Betty!

[Betty Hermelee]

Always a pleasure Kelly
Warmly, B

[Trace]

This is simply beautiful. I read it over and over to get the deep and incredible meaning.

Very well written, my friend.

Huggs, Trace

[Kelly Scheppers]

Thank you, Trace!

[Richard🖌]

Yes, it's me again, Kelly 🌾

Please, don't wince, this is not another Marathon review.
I just wanted to share how very much your words touched and wrapped around me like comforting velvet whispers, and, of course, how perfectly our souls juxtapose; though I'm ever envious of your incomparably blessed skills at expressing it.

I'm swept, M'Dear⁓*
What else to say, but how much I love it! ⁓ Richard🍃

[Kelly Scheppers]

How I've missed your savory reviews, Richard! Please know your presence is always welcomed here. Thank you my dear! x

[Sami Khalil]

I like the poem and the repetition. The soul does speak, does observe, does act.
There are souls on a mission. You are on a poetic endevour.
Bravo!

[Kelly Scheppers]

Thank you, Sami. You've made my day!

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Brava. I enjoyed. My soul listens, to the winds of change and the falling tears; like raindrops in the storm. I hear the children crying; hungry in their beds. Of course I see the flowers blooming and ushering in the Spring but the sunshine of my soul is knowing the children are all fed. My soul listens; to the rattling of sabers and the snarling dogs of war when governments raise their greedy voices and grab with greedy hands all the hard work of the poor people; their homes and lives and lands. My heart remembers; when there was peace and now, with certain nostalgic longing, the voice of music and laughter on the breeze. It hurts my soul; these things it hears but my heart is open like the listener's ear; like a book to tell a tale of heartbreak, loss and woe. The Spring rains have washed the ashes from my mind. All around the grass is green and glistening. But there are whispers spoken only in the dark; on the other side of town, even when no one is listening. Still, my soul listens.

[Kelly Scheppers]

A review most poignantly written very much in the context of a poem! How dear you are! Thank you, Fabian!