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Elisabeth Barstowe

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Short Stories
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· Nightsky

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Legends

by Elisabeth Barstowe — Read all 441 poems by Elisabeth Barstowe


One of Swedens national heroes Ingmar Stenmark once said: "I don’t know anything about luck. All I know is that the more I practice the more luck I have”


Saturday, March 11, 2023


Poem Artwork


Legends are born every day.
learn to walk before they crawl.
Options are close to none,
all you know is you gotta outrun
the danger, make yourself a stranger 
in some other town 
far away from home.

Inside light burns blinding hot.
You can run, but you can never hide.
The monsters are soon back at your side.

Your turning eyes inside out, 
hearts drop to the floor and you can't take no more
of that ever present attention zooming in on you.

So you run some more, slamming the door behind.
A place so far away, not even the devil comes this way.

Slowly crawling out of your protective shell.
 You're growing old and it's treating you well.
Somehow a few wrinkles here and there, 
a couple of grey hairs has dulled your fears.

Breathing easier, trusting more, like you did before.
 heroes of love and light by your side,
kind hearts to help you take the fight.

Wolfs in sheeps clothing, closing in on the prey,
mimiking their gentle way. 
How can you really tell who's who?

Well 

You live, you learn, you run, until you see through it all 
so that you never again have to fall. 




 



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Reviewed by Odin odin@aflx.com
Reviewed on March 12, 2023
As your poem's subtext clearly illustrates, finding courage is perhaps one of the most elusive principles in today's hurley-burley rat race, often to nowhere. You've cited roads and pathways of freedom that only your determination will conquer... and it seems you're well on your way—fine sentiments of rise and fall and rising again.


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