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Long Sweet Poems | Long Sweet Poetry

Long Sweet Poems. Below are the most popular long Sweet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sweet poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Nii-Ayi Solomon | Details |

My First Love Experience

It was in the early days of our lives
We met
She was so beautiful 
My eyes could not stop admiring
My heart kept racing 
Every time it sensed
her good-looking approaching
But we were too young 
To give full meaning 
To the love language

Years passed
Time kept flying
We lost contact 
But the memory of our past
We lugged with us

Someway, somehow,
Fate found us
And brought us together

We have now grown 
So big and sweet
We both glitter
At each other’s presence
We were ready to do a recap 
of where we left off

We laughed and joked about our past
We talked about our hey days at the National Theatre
We remembered the beautiful past that reflects our true self
We both haven’t changed after all

At that moment my heart spoke 
The love language again
I knew I was in love with her
It wasn’t today
It started from when we were kids

Man must gather confidence
And speak out his feelings

Thoughts of what she would say;

Don’t laugh at me,
We all do it sometimes

We were sweet friends
But now, I want to take 
The friendship a step further

My heart in full swing 
Of abnormal beating,
It beat faster
It spoke two different languages
Say it; and keep it
Don’t know which of these to believe 
I was shy
I was afraid
I was confused
I was happy
I was sad
I felt insane

There she was,
Standing in front me
In their house 
Beaming with smiles

Nii, she said tenderly,
‘I thought you said you had something to tell me,
Come on, I can’t wait any longer
My ears are itching’

My heart just jumped out
And now I want to escape from her presence
I wish I could vanish into thin air

Stop laughing at me
I’m not mouth lazy

I was just afraid of the outcome 
What if she said NO?
What if I lose her as a friend?
What if she vanishes into thin air?

And the what if’s continued …

Once in a man’s life time
He must draw together courage
To speak out his feelings

After all, I would not have violated any law
For telling a sweet scented woman 
Gorgeous, attractive and stunning 
About what I feel for her
So my nerves were clamed

This was how I started…

Esther, I mean, Naa Adjeley

The confusion has started

Errrmmm, you see,

Still didn’t know what to say

Hmmm, hope you are doing great?

Still confused…

‘I guess your brother, Thomas,
Is doing fine?’

She stared at me intently 
The smiles on her face kept 
My hopes alive 
And my heart awake 
I knew she was expecting 
Something more than making those comical remarks

It’s was now time to speak

Naa Adjeley, I travelled from Cape Coast 
To Accra to come see you
To tell you I miss you
and errmmm…

Please let it out
The small voice inside me whispered

I left campus to Accra just to let you know that

She laughed aloud and said
‘’are you serious!’’

‘Oh! Yes I am’
I said confidently,

Her face suddenly darkened
The smiles misplaced 
I wanted to fade away from her presence
After all I’ve let my feelings out
That was what mattered to me
But I did not have that special magic

How long have you felt this way towards me?
The next question to answer
‘When we were kids,
But it was revamped quite recently’
I replied

I could see the confusion on her face
She needed some more time 
To think things through
I was excited let it out
But she was confused

Days passed,
I went back to school,
We enjoyed chit chatting on the phone
But the answer to my request was still hanging

She mentioned in one of our conversations
She might be travelling
But didn’t say when
She was a nursing student
I was a tourism student
The beauty of having a friend 
You know and love
kept my mind awake in school

School was on recess
I arrived in Accra
Left my things unpacked
Borrowed money from my old girl
Picked a cab to Banana Inn
To see the woman 
That has taken my heart hostage

I kept bagging at their gate
Agoo! agoo! agooo! 

Waiting in anticipation to see
Her fine looking face
And present her with my first gift
Her brother, Thomas opened up

‘Hey! Where have you been?
It’s been a while’
Was the first question 
He asked

The only interest I had was to see her face
I wanted to see the woman 
That makes my heart beat
She was all I cared about

Where is Naa Adjeley?
I enquired from Thomas

I saw the shock on his face
My breathe was not catching up 
with me properly
I knew something was wrong

‘Where is she’,
I asked again
‘Didn’t she tell you
She was travelling?’
My face dropped dead at once
I felt a sharp heart ache
I almost fainted

She left for the U.K
Without even saying bye bye
Was that why, she didn’t give any reply
to my proposal?
Why did she keep my heart awake?

I left her house, depressed
Her gift was a bonus for the cab driver
My face drenched in pool of tears

I know it hurts
But I felt more relieved


My feelings had been made lucid to her
I now walk with my chest out
Ready to move on
Ready to open myself up to happiness

I still remember
Her looks
Her smiles
Her beauty
Her mannerism

My first love story
The one I have kept furtive
Over the years

Naa Adjeley
My old time love.

Copyright © Nii-Ayi Solomon

Long poem by Roy Jerden | Details |

La Bejarena

La Béjareña

Oh sweet Angel of Jesus, wherefore lies your grave?
Your blood that is of Navarro, that Corsican so brave
She was a proud Tejana, such a beauty once they say
That enchanted Santa Anna, so far back in the day

On fairy feet she floated in Béjar’s promenade
Like radiating moonbeams her beauty was conveyed
Mantilla and peineta in the latest Spanish style
Caballeros peacocked near her, each hoping for a smile

But for noble Béjar maidens, any glancing was taboo
Except for caballeros that her family nodded to
A curtsey and a flourished bow were the courtly ways
Of greeting one another back in those golden days

Such a fine tradition was the Béjar promenade 
To the Veramendi Palace, perhaps a masquerade
Or to dance a light fandango by the river’s perfumed air
All seemed much more beautiful when close to one so fair

Those were the days of wonder, when Béjar was so sweet
Before the revolution, and the Alamo’s defeat
Before some Anglos came to take with gun and Negro slave
The land that brave Tejanos had bled and died to save

Béjar was filled with drunkards, and rogues of every kind
No promenade was possible in streets so unrefined
And over near the Alamo, where freedom’s price was dear
The price was now determined by the slavery auctioneer

And yet one Anglo gentleman, a major in the war
Touched with noble chivalry, and the ways of a señor
The captured despot’s life did save, upon that victory day
From those who would have hanged the knave, down San Jacinto way

The moment that she met him, in the formal Spanish style
And looked into his honest eyes without a trace of guile
And read his soul so brave and pure, it seemed that time stood still
As nature linked their hearts as one, according to its will

A thousand days of happiness, a thousand days of bliss
Were all that God would grant them both before their final kiss
She laid her hero in his grave, and took their son in hand
And thought of how to speak to him and make him understand

Her gentle eyes had lost their shine; her hair was touched with gray
They wed her to the Dunker man, who took her far away
He never knew her sorrow, he never knew her soul
Inside her lonely citadel of iron self-control

He left her for another wife, and cast them all aside
But a mother’s duty to her sons would never be denied
And at the age of fifty-six, the time at last arrived
When she could welcome willingly the deadly reaper’s scythe

Oh sweet Angel of Jesus, wherefore lies your grave?
Your blood that is of Navarro, that Corsican so brave
By the village of Las Moras, down Rio Bravo way?
No one seems to know for sure, unto this very day

Oh, sons of Navarro!  Let not that Béjar rose
Lie with the dust of strangers, where no one ever goes
Join her with her heart's true love, on acres gently blessed
With shady hills below pecans, where heroes go to rest

This historical poem is about one of my HS classmate's Tejano (in the original 
sense) ancestors from the time of the Texas Revolution and the story is told 
from that perspective.

The main characters are not named in the poem intentionally, and place names 
are the old Spanish ones, but I will share with you the names of the 
protagonist and her true love, in case you are interested in reading about 
them. Her name was Angela de Jesus Maria Blasa Navarro. She was the niece of 
Juan Antonio Navarro, one of the signers of the Texas Declaration of 
Independence and a member of the important Navarro family of Bejar, present 
day San Antonio. She married William Gordon Cooke, one of the heroes of the 
Texas revolution, who is buried on Republic Hill at the Texas State cemetery 
along with other notables. Angela was buried near Brackettville, originally called 
Las Moras.

The Dunker man was Angela's 2nd husband, Abraham Geiger Martin. He was a 
member of the German Baptist Brethren church, nicknamed Dunkers because 
they practiced full body baptism, but required three full immersions before you 
were properly baptized. Apparently the marriage was a total failure and he 
divorced her, leaving her to raise his son and William Cooke's son alone.

Copyright © Roy Jerden

Long poem by Briana Lynn Minard-Adler | Details |

Bradlee Joe Rasmussen

Bradlee Joe is mine, he's always been mine,
The younger brother of David Authur Rasmussen Jr.,
Those gorgeous brown eyes staring at me, natural hair color,
That's brown; just like his brothers, but he dyed it blonde.<3
That gorgeous angel face, I think of him everyday all day, think of,
Those memories, that smile, that laugh, that voice, those strong arms,
The strong arms that hold me, just like his brother used to.
The sweet things he says to me, those precious eyes look into,
Into mine, the way he runs his fingers through my hair, the way he tickles me,
The way we play wrestle, the way we talk, the way we look at each other.
Eyes full of wonder, wonder how long we'll stay together, then he says,
He says "Baby we'll stay forever", and I believe every word he says,
My God if he only knew, knew how he makes my heart pound, the way,
The way it's just so easy to talk to him, man I can tell him anything, and I know,
I know that he'll keep it a secret, that's why I trust him with everything,
Everything inside of me. Everytime he asks me if I wanna start,
Start over with him, I always say yes, because I love him!!
No matter how much he hurts, I'll always love him, I do, because,
Because I know it's real, I love him with everything inside of me,
I want to wake up next to him everymorning and fall asleep,
Fall asleep in his arms everynight, say "I do" to him, have his,
Have his children, be in love forever, my God I've never felt this way before.
I fell for him the first moment I saw his gorgeous smile light,
Up that dark lunch room, the way you hugged me tight, exchanged,
Exchanged numbers with each other, and the way we talked on the phone for hours on end,
Oh how I wished for you to be mine, How I still wish to change,
Change my name to Briana Lynn Rasmussen.
Babe I can't inagine a world where you don't exsist, babe without you,
Without you I'd honestly die.
The son of David Authur Rasmussen Sr. and Sandi Rasmussen,
The brother of David Authur Rasmussen Jr, and Cheyeene Rasmussen,
The cousin of Kenneth Michael Hampton, better known as Mikey :) You have
Have a older bro, a younger sister & brother, and you have you,
Father's eyes, your brother's strength, your mother's beauty, and your crazy,
Crazy sense of humor.
With you I can't stop smiling, laughing and giggling.
Babe I am finally home, it's been a long time, and I am glad you kept the bed warm for me,
My home is with you, it's the only place where I belong, and babe I am so glad to be home.
I love your curly hair, I love the way you hold me, the way you kiss me, the way yoy,
You love me.
I love everything you do, and everything about you,
Babe I really do hope that day comes where we say "I do."
Hell I'd do it right now if I could, if you wanted me the same.
I want to be the mother of your children, I want to be the on;y woman you come home to,
Come home to after work, the one you give sweet kisses to, and the one you tell,
Tell me about your day, the one who wants to fall asleep in your arms, and 
Wake up in your arms with my head on your chest, see your sweet smile everyday,
Hear the words "Good Morning Baby, how'd you sleep?"
I'd reply sleepily "Great, how bout you Angel?" I love everything about you, everything
Everything you say, babe I love the fire in your eyes, the way you are protective over me,
The way you fight for me.
Babe I just wanna be your forever, and when we die baby,
I want to be laidto rest next to you, or with you in the same casket, because,
Because I'm only me when I'm with you, you are the only one who keeps me warm, The only one
Only one who makes me feel like I am home, like I'm finally alive,
Like I'm finally me, babe you are my better half and really honestly,
I've been so lost without you, and I am so glad to be back home.

Copyright © Briana Lynn Minard-Adler

Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details |

Spy Breidenthal -part 2-

I will never forget the Feast of Tabernacles at Lake Arrowhead I spent my nights there in our beautiful rented house With Spy loyally by my side He slept on my bed and kept me feeling comfortable and happy We cuddled close to each other during the cooler nights When I begin to shiver slightly (I know, I’m such a Californian!) He would warm me up, laying across my neck—a purring scarf During my most emotional prayers, he was there, And he looked at me curiously with his beautiful, yellow-green eyes He never failed to make me smile wide Throughout many hardships, His presence and his love toward me kept me going I know that the memory of him and all the good times we had Will help me endure through the hardships coming He grew up to be a very fine cat He followed me everywhere it seemed, my second shadow Friendlier than most cats I have owned in the past, He got along with everyone in the family People say that cats are very independent and moody —I would say Spy was quite the opposite When he met my friend Allie for the first time, He immediately fell in love with her and rubbed against her legs He even laid on his back showing her his belly When we sat down, he would curl up beside us, Watching inquiringly, wondering what we were doing When six kittens were born on a lovely Sabbath day, Spy would get inside the drawer they were in, Curl up around them and keep them warm Until the mother returned after her meals He was a fantastic father to them, though he was scared at first, Like I presume all fathers are to some degree The only complaints I had for Spy were his morning rituals— Desperate begging out of hunger at odd hours of the morning He liked to lay on my head, yowl loudly in my ear, scratch the walls, Or paw my face if I ignored him in my bed Come to think of it, I also used to get so irritated my him As I would descend down the stairs to my room He would always have the need to race me to the bottom No matter what he had to reach the bottom first and he never failed One time, I was determined to beat him to the bottom, So before he noticed I was shooting down the stairs, I desperately fumbled down the stairway like a maniac When I reached the last few steps, frenzied with soon-to-be glory, Suddenly Spy leaped down the stairs, and jumped right off the side rail, Landing on the bottom on all four feet, ensuring his vivacious victory I must admit, it was pretty damn epic Of course, a sore loser once again, I gave up with a playful glower, Scooping him in my arms, kissing him on the head "You silly thing..." – Was an expression often repeated on various occasions It is hard to express how I feel It is truly like losing a family member Spy is gone now I can see the pain in each family member’s eyes Especially after the trip to Arrowhead, Spy and I, We were like two peas in a pod Thank you for reading I want all of you to know, I am thankful to have you in my life We are blessed to have each other And to share experiences together Let’s make the best out of this life We never know what tomorrow will bring, but let us not fret I am just happy I had the time I had with Spy He will always be a huge part of my life The beginning of Spy's life was a tragedy as well He was thrown out of a moving car with four kittens, and left for dead I was angry at the people then, But now I am at peace, I now pray earnestly for those that harm others The fact that Spy suffered before his death severely saddens me But I am comforted in the fact that he now rests peacefully Spy Breidenthal May 2013-October 18, 2014

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Long poem by Terry Trainor | Details |

A Dashing Blade

In a house high on a hill an old man grows weak, many years have gone, he lays in his old bed,
Back in the day, a dashing young officer with a brilliant red uniform he had many girlfriends,
Flowers scattered across the mead's and meadows the heaths and the glades and over wide glens,
Those days bright and hot, the occasional thunder announces itself in the seasons sultriness,
Today it is summer again trees rich with green leaves now darkened and oaks have little acorns.

Laying in his bed the French doors wide open, summer greets him warmly for just one more time,
White haired and thin his skin yellow and his eyes sunk into wasted sockets his lips quiver,
He remembers the woods well, sitting by a sheltered warm bank, new greenery bursting through,
He tries hard to sit up and to see his long ago self in the beautiful green ripening gardens,
Sweet flowers know him well, respectfully they nod to an old friend who is going on a journey.

As a man who liked to be outdoors he walked and tended these landscapes even as a young blade,
He casts way back to his youthful days when he would walk in the sun a sweet girl at his side,
Running up a woodland bank, his hands on hips, he would wander miles enjoying wonderful views,
His heart raced with joy as the carpets of the forest grew around tall trees along the floor,
Now the songs of the birds grow faint the nightingale is hushed and the cuckoo bows his head.

A nurse tiptoes in she quietly shuts the doors, he whispers, she cannot hear him but she looks,
It is so faint she goes to his bed bends down to listen her ear to his lips they barely move,
He says don't shut the doors the beauty makes me feel safe my old friends are out there waiting,
She lifts him higher, puffs his pillows adds another blanket she smiles, 'you are a lovely man',
The blackbird and the thrush perch near the French doors and sing a musical goodbye very softly.

He can now see the Coltsfoot and cardamine in the fallows with green moss in the moist meadows,
And the star of Bethlehem gleaming from the copse the woods, a special beauty from shady places.
The celandine and kingcup glow in golden lustre he watches them his eyes rheumy and tears fall,
Daisies scattered across lawns like patterns in a carpet of lime green, smelling of spearmint,
The elder flower, corn poppy and the viper's bugloss with a rich azure smile from his garden.

He begins to smile shakily at the crocuses spreading a purple flood over the greenest meadows,
It's a sight you have to see, to take it in, color returns to his cheeks on his ashen old face,
Above all the favorites of the field is a violet, many times he picked one for his lady friends,
White, purple diffuse sweetness under hedges, a landscape painted in mind, those were good days,
Young girls would walk arm in arm across the glades to listen to his wondrous battle stories.

These pictures of beauty he has known since his early childhood days, his memory so very clear,
Whispering do you scent the hay, do you hear the scythes ringing, do you hear sweet laughter,
The joys of running across green fields like young breeze and smelling sweet newly cut grass,
Scented breezes fill his room, his eyes close, happy to return to his precious long gone days,
And with his last breath he walks arm in arm with a beautiful young girl in sweet old meadows.

Copyright © Terry Trainor

Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

Two's Magic Nose

Such a nose had Ol’ Blue.
Best in south Missouri... everybody knew.
Could smell a pheasant across the plain.
Could point a covey in a hurricane.
That’s the way the legend goes.
Ol’ Blue had a “magic nose.”
As Blue got older, his master’s mind would drift away
To a place where he and young Blue used to play. 
In the mornings, sitting over his coffee cup
He found it sad there were no pups.
He thought it would be such a shame
If the only memory was Ol’ Blue’s name.
So, Jim was compelled and full of pride;
He made a search, far and wide,
To find Ol’ Blue a suitable mate.
No doubt, his offspring would be great.
It seemed likely, he supposed,
At least one pup would have his “magic nose.”
She was a Champion Miss from New Orleans,
A beautiful “red” named Cajun Queen.
But Blue suddenly passed away, before the pups were born.
Jim was broken hearted.  He and “Queenie” mourned.
Then came the litter, but there was only one.
Jim struggled for hope; after all, he was Ol’ Blue’s son.
Dappled and lanky, a handsome little cuss,
He looked just like Blue.  Jim made such a fuss.
Naming this pup would require no ado.
It was obvious.  Officially, he would be “Blue Two.”
Oh yes, these were mighty large tracks to fill.
“Can he?”, folks asked.  Jim would say, “Heck yes he will!”

So his nickname became “Two” and he seemed to be smart.
Soon it was time for his training to start.
The basics went well, but Jim’s outlook grew very dim
When, instead of pointing, Two would wag and jump and bark at him.
Oh, Two seemed to be trying; but try as he might,
He just could not seem to ever get it right.

“Blue’s son or not, he’s got to go!”
Jim found Two a “pet home” far away, in Tupelo.
On his way back, he stopped in Texarkana.
Been too long a time since he’d seen his sister Hannah.
Six days and six pounds later, he was back on his way.
Work at the farm was callin’ and he’d be drivin’ all day.
He thought about Ol’ Blue and wondered if and when
He’d ever have a birddog as good as Blue again.
Oh, he knew another “magic nose” was just a far off dream;
After all, it wasn’t something any man could scheme.
A “magic nose” was a gift from God, only given to a few;
And he was proud and very lucky just to have known Ol’ Blue.
As he turned into his drive, he broke into a smile.
“Why… I can’t believe it!  It…It must be 300 miles!”
Two was on the porch, thin and dirty; but he struck a handsome pose.
Jim ran and hugged Two hard.  “How’d you get back?  Lord only knows!”
Suddenly Jim realized; and struck with awe, he slowly rose.
A tear trickled to his smile.  “Why Two… you have a “magic nose!”
Two and Jim are best of friends, together everywhere.
From milkin’ cows to bedtime, Two is always there.
Jim doesn’t hunt much anymore, now Two’s a rescue dog.
Just last month, he saved a little girl lost in Cooley’s Bog.
Jim struts and tells proud, heroic stories;
While Two wags and jumps and barks, and shares his glory.
Jim boasts, “Like father, like son!”, then speaks fondly of Blue;
But all know the largest tracks to fill are those of Two.
His deeds are known far and wide,
And fill Jim’s heart with love and pride.
For with every rescue, the legend grows;
About a dog named Two, and his “magic nose.”

Copyright © Robert Candler

Long poem by liam mcdaid | Details |

Mother Nature's Little Prince

A most beautiful little green frog swims quietly and so gracefully
While his eyes gaze gently on a mountain looming in the distance.
He’s at ease as he swims in a deep forest pond warmed by the sun.
Lost catching flies inside the shadows as an echo holds on to a
Certain gentle stillness within him humming with burning sighs.

This little green frog was called “Froggy” by Mother Nature,
And he was her little precious star-light promise of pretty colors.
Froggy was the Gem of Her Eyes: handsome, funny and intelligent 
With kindness so overwhelming and a soft-touching tenderness.
He was talkative, and quiet princely by his apparent noble mien.

Froggy had a divine hope and destiny to wish for a dream princess.
Mother Nature knew that “Her Froggy” was indeed so magical as
His golden fingers of light painted a rainbow array of new born life.
“Her Froggy” was much more than a mere amphibian in this life,
Although he was dark green and sprinkled with light black spots.

Froggy lay on a lily leaf faraway as his thoughts sailed freely into
Another world, where his most infectious and funny smile made him
Quite popular and noticeable to a beautiful young fairy princess who
Was smitten instantly with his looks and his princely correct behavior.
For the young fairy princess it was love at first sight—and so precious! 

Froggy was slowly changing and love became his desire and passion.
With a purity shone silver in streaming beauties of light pure gold
At the rainbow’s end was a bridge of his loving tears as he sang a 
Melodious song of love with a supreme confidence for the princess.
Upon meeting his princess their mutual fate was woven now as one.

Mother Nature’s enchanted wish for “Her Froggy” and his princess
Was now at hand for their love and emotion were now blended as one.
All that remained was that magical kiss to make them both human.
When these two beings of wondrous beauty kissed—the very stars
And comets in Heaven above shone so brightly that night became day!

With love and the omnipotent and majestic whisk of God’s divine hand,
Froggy and his princess metamorphosed into complete human form!
This was truly a sight in Heaven itself to behold and cherish for eternity!
Now they were a royal pair: A prince and his princess in love—reflected
In the radiant colored light of a mystical rainbow of heavenly direction.

Mother Nature cried joyous tears of hope and happiness at this splendid
Occurrence, making the very rivers on Earth flow in a great abundance
With the sweetest and purest mountain spring water one could imagine!
Now as “Her Froggy”—a real prince now—kissed his princess again,
God’s angels anointed them with heavenly star dust shining so brightly!

The new prince now known as “Frederic,” and his princess took their
Royal places in human society with no one ever suspecting or knowing
From whence or where they came, and their divine relationship to
Mother Nature herself, which was her secret and their secret shared 
Together and forever to the very end of time!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem, 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (July 5, 2015) (Narrative)

Copyright © liam mcdaid

Long poem by Eileen Manassian | Details |

The Moment Passion Triumphed

I know you want to appear tough
You want to pull off cool
Being a strong macho man
That’s part of the unspoken rule

I know you act so indifferent
When you see me passing by
But when I happen to turn around
I see raw hunger in your eye

And when I stand close beside you
I hear you inhale my perfume
I can tell it’s so hard for you
Your work to try to resume

And then there is the silence
As you search for words so bland
You try for nonchalance
As you steady your shaking hand

I glow inside as I read
All those little tattle tale signs
You are so intent to hide 
That your heart’s already mine

When we all piled up in his car
I had to lean back on your chest
The erratic beat of your heart
Made me know I’d won the test

I recall you opened the door 
To let me in to the evening of glee
I wish you could have seen your face
Your eyes were devouring me

You tried to talk to other girls
But your eyes never left my face
You were staking out your claim
Your reactions I could trace

Oh, that sweet surge of power
To know that I could dominate
That I could turn strength to weakness
Because your desires I captivate

I made my way to where you stand
A slow and swaying stride
You looked at me perplexed
When I asked you to go outside

I wondered if they could feel
The burning heat in your stare
If they could see the passion
That in your eyes was laid bare

We stood outside in silence
As we drank in the city lights
The moon and the stars were alive
Lending magic to this night

I had become impatient
To claim sweet victory
When I turned my face to you
I saw you looking down at me

Your craving was unguarded
Your sheer presence made me melt
You took a step much closer
Fate a different hand had dealt

“Is there something the matter?”
Your voice caressed me with concern
I couldn’t find words to answer
I felt my cheeks quickly burn

I knew your pride was wounded
For I once already said, “NO.”
But now you were my obsession
How could I let you know?

With feigned calmness you stood waiting
Self-preservation mode in the way
I frantically clutched at the moment
Not knowing what I could say

It was now or lose you forever
My breath came out in a gasp
“I really want you to…..kiss me
To claim me as yours at last.”

The words were barely out
When your lips closed over mine
You crushed my body gainst yours
Made me lost to the world and time

I tasted pure delirium
My senses all aflame
There was no way to even try
Your flames of passion to tame

But you pulled away one moment
Fighting to regain lost control
I could see pride harden your face
“Do you think I have no soul?

You tortured and you crushed me
Teased me with each toss of your hair
Do you know how long I have waited?
Am I just a toy or some dare?”

My life now hung in the balance
For could I try to make you see
That my heart was now so ready
For your love to set me free

I stood inches from your face
“My love, this you cannot miss”
I kissed you with passion of legions
“Your answer is here in my kiss.”

Sweet reader, I’ll pull the curtain
On all the wonder of that night
One of passion’s greatest triumphs
To rival legends saw the light.

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian

Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

Circle of Life - A Pet Story

It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
   his untimely end.

He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends.  I do care.”

Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.

So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?

We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.

Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.

He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.

“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him... oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.

And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…

There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight 
   to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.

“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy.  You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats.  It’s up to you”.

As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred.  I almost cried.

On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.

But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.

But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.

For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea, 
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me.  Please, take me”.

“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.

In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.

Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.

Copyright © Robert Candler

Long poem by Aliagan Abdulrahman | Details |


Today I was but walking on my path, full of self-confidence,

heading towards a purpose I had set from my residence.

My humble head bowed very low, I pressed forward in haste,

yet I was mindful lest I outran my chance to court a waste.

Leaving behind the sights and all that my back had brought

to face what my way’d unveil, I prepared even to be fought.

Forcefully my head was raised, for something had beckoned—

it was an irresistibly pretty figure I saw or so I had reckoned.

I gave a pause, poised to find what the distance would unfold,

little foreseeing I would enjoy defeat from what I set to behold.

The more it advanced the lesser my endurance and my strength.

I trembled: it was the first adventure facing me from this length.

I am a young soldier though, at home, in haste, I’d left my wit,

and now struck helpless by her soothing hit, I am no more fit.

Have mercy, spare me, for all my skills I have lost or unlearned,

or take a wink to look away while I address the desire I discerned.

If I am blessed to accomplish this task, I shall be more than glad;

but If I fall casualty to the defeat of the challenge, I shall be sad,

for I have never before retreated from a duet of this kind all in vain,

yet if I can use up all I have left, I shall not care to manage a gain.

Now she’s near so it’s time I waved her a stop to give my best,

since I’ve got two awesome things—this task and a school test.

To pass one and fail the other (or miss one) is going to mean a crime.

God, help me here with overwhelming words as my tongue I prime,

because I must not exhibit a repelling style or make a worse blunder

and be displeased with  my waning military spirit if we’re put asunder.

Do you understand I can’t make out why I stand under your charm,

because it always takes place the other way round without any harm?

The ethereal lures radiating from this unblemished skin equals the cost

of your doting parentage, the root you grew from that mustn’t be lost.

Now you grow, grow and grow, while skeptics marvel as you soar tall

from the root of this tree that you must garden and see it doesn’t fall.

If you can disorientate me in this manner while I forget to remember

what I’m capable of,  you deserve kudos from Januaries to Decembers.

Because of waywardness my tongue should give way to my clever pen

which is mightier than the sword and be the spokesman of wise men.

It adores the spotless teeth you flaunt as a sign of mildness and peace;

appreciates the dazzling light in your eyes that reduces one to a piece;

and promises to smear your plumb cheeks with  deserving delight

by ensuring that you beam with dimples like the stars in the night.

Copyright © Aliagan Abdulrahman

Long Poems