Turtle Truth

There was a little turtle

who ran away from home

the only thing he took with him

was a little poem


He knew he had to get away

to truly feel his blues

and crossing to the other side

could help him tell the truth


On he walked into the night

away from all he knew

pressing on in deep despair

he began to feel a fool


Although he’d travelled very far

His dream was farther still

he hoped that he was getting close

just over that next hill


As he began his daunting climb

a darker notion slithered in

What if this was all in vain?

his poetry too thin?


His heart was filled with much regret

for all his wasted hours

writing odes to honey bees

and sonnets for the flowers


As this deadly serpent thought

was strangling his desire

lovely music could be heard

above him somwhere higher


A meadowlark sat in a tree

singing to the breeze

“this little turtle needs a song

to set his lyrics free”


The turtle’s journey ended there

he threw away his blues

a simple melody remained

to help him tell his truth


Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

13 thoughts on “Turtle Truth”

    1. Yes Christophe, and what a mighty armour it is! If the skin is thin, the ink needs to be thick. You have made a very astute observation that others have missed and for that I salute you! It’s wonderful to see you here at my very tiny speck of personal truth in the vast universe we call home. πŸ™‚

    1. Sure Bindo, I’ll serve it with some turtle soup and eye of newt. Oh glory be, that did rhyme and just in time. lololol Welcome back intrepid sufferer of the darker muse

    1. Oh but D, the photo is the entire reason for the poem. A T shirt? Really? lol Ya know, maybe I can myself one of those stalls in a flea market and flog my best rhyme schemes and Haiku poetry…perhaps a villanelle or some lovely mystery embedded quatrains! πŸ˜‰ I’m glad you liked the first stanza, it was meant to be melancholy and you know me, melancholy darkness is where all the beauty lives.

      1. actually, the shirt is idea came to me lately, thinking about another way poet could create some. poetwear. or something of the sort. don’t tell anyone. i will try to develop it. now, i can see the photo is it but i don’t think it will fit the shirt. we’ll need some simple drawing.
        i love the first stanza, it hit something in me, i read it over and over, maybe six times at first.
        i enjoyed it all, but the first stanza has stayed with me.

      2. D, I can get my head wrapped around the T shirt idea. In fact, it’s an industrious notion that could work brilliantly. I encourage merchandising in all forms because basically my family background is rooted in the entrepreneurial spirit. Money is good, business is good and those who make it happen are the fuel in the engine of commerce. You know D, this could truly bring poetry back in vogue, and give it a second life among the general populace if it works. I’ll bet Byron would have been all over this one and roped Shelley into it. πŸ™‚

        The first stanza is still with you because I wrote it with a feeling for every poet I’ve ever known, both living and dead. It’s true of us all. Once you recognize you are a writer and in particular a poet, you have at that point ‘left home’ in the most essential way and nothing is ever the same within you or how you relate to others.

  1. wow Val! You are on a roll this weekend. I usually don’t like rhyming poems but this one was very enjoyable to read πŸ™‚

    1. Darling Jessie, my secret is…I NEVER revise lol I puke it out and serve it to all of you as an appetizer. Rhyming poetry is memorable, quaint and damn hard to write correctly. This was just a little ditty I’ve used as a reason to post that photo I took last summer. Between you and I and everyone else here, that turtle had a perfectly good suicide going on until we pulled up in our car and I tried to prompt him across the road. He was extremely pissed and let me know by raising up on his little legs and snapping his neck around trying to bite me. Definitely a negative vibe between us. Lesson learned? Let death obsessed turtles do their own thing and end it all in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere.

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