Long Abeyant Poems

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


Premium Member Jesus Gods Link

Jesus Gods Link
Written: by Tom Wright
3/10/03

The words I pen, quite simply,
Are my thoughts disposed to ink.
Laying my heart agape on paper,
Inviting others to seek God's link.

I seek not possession, or ownership,
To thoughts that once dormant lay.
God, bades my elite in each travail,
In stride, thought, and feats of day.

Never regarding it developed talent,
But alternatively, God's, gift to me.
That in using my blundering efforts,
I've presented Jesus, for others to see.

So consider these not as abeyant words,
Ink, structured to form a printed page.
My objective was to show you Jesus,
And plant a seed to sprout with age.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric


Premium Member A Select Few

A Select Few
Tom Wright
Archives

A few times in my lifetime,
I’ve been blessed by the presence of those
whom God has ushered into a common trail.
These wonderful people caused me to search my soul,
challenged my thinking, and caused abeyant,
creative juices to flow; perhaps they came to me out of
obedience to God’s urging. Thanks can never
 be considered payment enough; but should 
 you be one of these, my gift to you
is friendship, undying loyalty, and love,
for lingering with me therein.
Tom


I’m not overly impressed with what some say they now
But quiet deeds that come to light impress me so.
Tom
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

For Wednesday

Caprice

The right moment
at the wrong time
The right rhythm
 with the wrong rhyme 

The verse oft hidden
 between the lines
The Muse abeyant  
— till prescience shines

(The New Room: January, 2026)


In Plain Sight

You can hide
in the open
when you’re
somebody else

No need for
a mask
with your image
indwelt

You can hide
in the open
when nobody
stares

An orphan
in training
whose devils
— may care

(The New Room: January, 2026)


Alone

I hope that
you die
before
the new morn

The night holding
captive
your future
forlorn

I hope that
you choke
on the words
you profane

A prisoner
convicted
alone
— in your pain

(The New Room: January, 2026)


Darkness Calls

Temptation rears
its ugly head
Deception hides
beneath our beds

The Angels
of our nature shunned
As darkness calls
— perdition comes

(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Along Dry Path

Am I fitful,
fluctuating, fluid? 
thin compass waver
as I jubilantly weave
lilac tree vignettes 
that weep or chortle,
rainbow figment curtain
rashly wished upon
in grain smudge zephyr
garnet sand raw vehicle 
garden common opal 
transit sidestep
to a multiverse 
of sappy fruit drip
net bag of niche
mauve rim canopy 
a gilt ring culprit’s 
flashpoint conjure 
stirring taxi cabs 
of lavish spurt  
woolgathering 
a gold rush stray
footslog must 
have steel encased. 
undulating folds
entangled nomad feint
dwarf yellow scorcher
firmament fatality
dash for straw hut
casita or elm 
wood cabin where 
advertence on
turnpikes, trails,
woven tracks lead
trajectory abuts
plod along dry path 
dust bowl swirling as 
they spurn allotments
meek enshrouded lull
with unalloyed poise 
to jettison narcolepsy  
brief embargo on
spiral plumule  
when one’s physique 
has many harrowing 
gasps, taut breath
that intrinsic quest 
for glistening cascade 
seems an urgent 
void, crushing  
diapason rudderless
mahatma clement at 
Arcadias nascent
totem of egress 
yet charismatic 
terminal flag 
as this sentient 
hypothesiser on 
emerald tint bract
beneath hiking boot
unflinching 
wild clasp at
beanpole verges
riven from
shade burst cockcrow 
lure an impetus 
to meandered pretext 
primeval boon-docks  
whilst tranquil flit 
discommoding tawdry 
pitch or tilt 
gaunt endowment
I must brood on
surreal moiety
of cerebral aspect 
squandered 
rude reckoning aside
lapse into sullen 
vacuum found across
a link whose blind  
velvet crush lingers
query later doused  
in vapour whirl gush
inkling thin veneer 
sheeny beadlet  
brow sapped 
nod and falter
to a childhood turf
shelter for the limb 
victim of grinding 
marathon on marathon 
to relish glow hue noons 
hermetically abeyant  
sempiternal eves  
avenue to wanderer 
fatigued yet still 
in broad pursuit 
of deep quiddity

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