Long Afterglow Poems
Long Afterglow Poems. Below are the most popular long Afterglow by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Afterglow poems by poem length and keyword.
Painting ink onto Midnights drink
The touch is tender and slow
Gliding pink along a skin of mink
Erecting peaks in an afterglow
Suckling nectar in it's gentle flow
Touch the brush the canvas is fire
In flaming color is the Scent Desire
Elation came to take me tHere as
Passion claimed my soul a dare...
Remembering You... in the Wind
Dripping brush in a rush of Mind
Gripping crush of our bodies grind
Thrusting lusting fingers entwine
Tempting juice from a tongue in rhyme
The scent of you is a drink I glisten
Licking lips in a dream sensation
Sticky tip of my brush wants more
Milky drips from my Lovers core
~Your scent excites me
So I'll dip a wet brush...
And I'll drink what's in store...
Form:
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset,
nature’s inflorescence meadows charm tread.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Gleam before the blooms fade and all forget.
Lavender, Daffodil, Take Me Instead!
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Balm Jasmine, Hyacinth, Granny’s Bonnet,
slightest glow of early morning love shed.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Marigold, Primrose, at bay ... they trumpet,
raising spring voices in radiance bed.
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Freesia, Begonia, nimbus duet,
rainbow chardonnay bouquet, insect fed.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Splashes of color for the daily fret,
nourishing aglow with warmth, grace breath spread.
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIqkk5uUcdg
Nocturnal lanterns lit in the backdrop of one beautiful night
even the moon with her quandary essence of infantile light
cannot compare to the quick silver memory of her poetic sea;
As she quietly endorses each faery star she is bathed in afterglow
and is lead down a path of cranberry leaves and burgundy dreams
Planetary celestial magic mingled with elements of humble earth
songing the seeds of her passage, a silent appearance, rebirth...
The artists hands etched inside the dreamers bliss
aside the evening an ascend of melodies arrive
far beyond reality, far beyond earths artistry
the incandescent realm of magic is here , verily as one.
Autumn Afterglow
Pristine blue October skies are flowing
Falling leaves a’ waltz upon the air
Tapestries of woven destinations
Painted in a colorful affair
Apple pies in open windows calling
Woolen jackets hung beside the door
Frolicking through wayward pumpkin patches
Hand in hand, now who could ask for more
Pinecones rest along a winding pathway
Sparrows sing in barren trees above
Dreaming in the afterglow of Autumn
Nature’s beauty shared with one you love
10/23/18
Written for the Seasonal or Unseasonal Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues
On this soft autumn evening all is still
The moon drifts over clouds that gently flow
Bequeathing through us humbleness and thrill.
To fade in its mild hour of afterglow.
And somehow I have thought about our dream
Where skies can look into my heart and feel;
This vow of love will never die, but gleam
Until life ends, embracing time’s ordeal.
Forever then we'll walk the endless strands
That tugs along this sail , my river’s quest,
Where seagulls wheel above the pearly sands
Beyond the twirling curves far to the west.
Yes, love is ever faithful, always pure
Till heaven greets me in my last detour.
English Sonnet Contest of Janice Canerdy
11/3/2016
Sometimes I listen to my lofi on low.
Sometimes I listen to phonk on high.
Most of the time I bask in a moonlit glow.
Most of the time I bask in the midnight sky.
Some days I just wanna really die.
Some days I just want people to know.
Most days I actually just want to cry.
Most days I actually just need to feel the afterglow.
Somewhere my first ever love and I belong.
Somewhere that I want to find first on my own.
Most places made our bond even more strong.
Most places in which I remained as an unknown.
Sometime ago I remained a secret, still do.
Sometime ago he returned my love again.
Most recently ago he's become a secret of mine too.
Most recently ago we've reunited, healed of all our pain.
Dancing beneath the celestial tapestry,
Each tender touch and warm embrace ignites her joy,
A radiant warmth lingers like the twilight’s kiss,
As love deepens, weaving threads of passion ever tighter.
It echoes the canvas of a setting sun,
Where the horizon bleeds into a symphony of colors,
Yet shadows loom, seeking to veil this glowing warmth,
But it endures, shimmering in the gaze of distant stars.
Occasionally, the world acknowledges my toil,
As a young dreamer, my father’s pride wraps around me like a cloak,
In the realm of labor, accolades bloom like spring flowers,
Filling me with a fleeting warmth, as time momentarily halts.
In this fleeting existence, permanence is a myth,
The sky surrenders its glow to the encroaching night,
Romance fades into the quiet of slumber,
And the warmth of achievement dissipates at the boss’s inquiry, “How is your work progressing?”
As we descend into our togetherness
There are her tears and whispers of "be gentle with me"
As she condescends into our passion
We hold each other firm with messages of skin and heart
We fall deeper into each other
She has hesitance to fully surrender her body
But is caught up into thoughts of his piercing blue eyes
Which can seduce her when her clothes are on
She shivers and the articulation of gentle kisses
On nape and notch (And why now am I thinking of hop scotch?)
"Hey! No!" "Kisses, focus on the kisses"
As we are warm for each others form
And the smell of mahogany in this cabin
(In which just moments ago we were both enjoying a good book)
And in each other we smother as inhibitions
Are now falling away (and the smell of French Toast)
Why French Toast when I am enjoying the interrogation
Of my lover lips? Oh sweet lover who has gently and caressingly
Wooed me into a chase of orgasmic finality
And into the afterglow of post coital spooning
Wow and whew (with a heavy sigh)
Maybe now the French Toast
After the wild roses stopped to bloom,
I visited your backyard each afternoon.
I counted the thorns of your rose tree,
wondering if a new bud I would see…
You didn’t come and lean by the window,
combing your hair under the afterglow.
The night wind carried you to me instead,
as I pillowed my head on the root’s thread.
You left the door open on the morrow,
when a new pink rose started to grow.
Should I leave the rose – young and pure -
or Should I follow your lead –
The future
gave to me no more than one queen
blossoming in a garden left unseen.
Embers trailing an afterglow of dawn,
welcoming harmony lingers aloft,
as chess pleasures the first move of its pawn.
That will make Mary quite contrary yawn,
passed Mary was Harry down his hayloft,
embers trailing an afterglow of dawn.
Into the John Harry quickly withdrawn,
Mary takes her sweet time as she so oft,
as chess pleasures the first move of its pawn.
Here sits down Harry as breakfast is on,
then sat Mary talking ever so soft,
embers trailing an afterglow of dawn.
Harry is done, washed up, and waits for Vaughn,
Mary's done, washed up, and waits for Miss. Croft,
as chess pleasures the first move of its pawn.
Mary's the first to leave on down the toft,
Then Harry, his friend, and a boy named Shawn,
embers trailing an afterglow of dawn,
as chess pleasures the first move of its pawn.