Long Ambience Poems

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


Premium Member Just Down the Road a Piece

Just down the gravel road a piece is an old-time country store.
On its saggin' shelves are things you won't find much anymore.
Ladies in bright calico barter with Mr. Draper their eggs and butter,
As they visit neighbors on Saturday nights amid the piles of clutter!

Menfolk lounge on benches in front of the store to discuss the price of hogs,
Argue the merits of John Deere tractors and who has the finest huntin' dogs.
The kids were given fifty-cents and shooed off to the movin' pitcher show.
Later they'll meet at Bruce's Deli Shoppe for ice cream and cups o' joe!

Shoppin' carts or computers ain't used in the store owned by Mr. Draper.
He grabs things off the shelf and totes the bill on scraps of butcher's paper.
Snoozin' nigh the glowin' potbelly stove is Spooks, Mr. Draper's hound.
His inscrutable cat, Wilbur, sprawls upon a barrel of pickles a-sleepin' sound!

Ah, the variety of interestin' stuff available in his store is so replete.
Fels Naptha, Oxydol and Lifebuoy soaps as well as pickled pigs feet,
Wrigley's, Black Jack, Beamans and Clove chewin' gums are on the shelf,
Plus Clark, Power House and Walnetto candies to satisfy yourself!

Farmers keep his bins stocked with fresh roastin' ears and sweet potaters,
Rutabagas, green onions, rhubarb and luscious beefsteak tomaters.
If you can tolerate squeaky floors and Mr. Draper's old-fashioned ways,
Drop by and savor the nostalgic ambience of his store one of these days!

(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

Entry for Kelly Deschler's "Just Down The Road" Contest
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member A Ten Star Restaurant

If there's one thing I have a weakness for

It's a restaurant that gets my vote for these ten simple reasons

ONE... the ambience when you walk in

TWO... a friendly greeting from a beautiful receptionist lady

THREE... a cozy table in a quiet corner

FOUR... a gorgeous waitress

FIVE... a menu that has every dish you've ever dreamed of

SIX... a gorgeous waitress

SEVEN... reasonable prices

EIGHT... a gorgeous waitress

NINE... amazing food and presentation

TEN... a gorgeous waitress

BOTTOM LINE... you guessed it, a gorgeous waitress!



© Jack Ellison 2014
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Passion

Melodic passion, lilting harmonies lull my slender fingers, 
when I play with the stringed keyboard, I sink into the  mellifluous music, can feel the gentle keys under my fingertips softly as the alchemy notes cadence spasmodically. 

Swirling colours lost in time, chimes of the electric waves  rhyme, repetitive sonorous beats one after the other replete the very ambience with cancerous, calm vibes.


The reverberating strains of those sacrosanct, subliminal-sounds' ripple effects lull senses with esoteric mellow polyphonies and my secluded, aesthetic-self, unconsciously submerges in those polyphonies silently. 

The lyric goes on  and on while immersing  my soul,

the world seems calm from every harm on those ambrosial moments, once the last crescendo is struck, the enamoured silence of tranquility generates an utopia of its own, 
yet, an art of magical touch of each pitch  to the subliminal conscience and existence in sublime solitude can't be captured by interpretive ink

Can sense the  calm after playing  the stringed keyboard in solitude;
the  exalted gadget is the catalyst to inner peace,  a feast to the soul, what makes the esoteric journey complete,  her dreamy rhythm makes my heart beat .
© Silpika Kalita
Form: Lyric

Two Women

Their intimacy is gloved,
moments dovetail
in a tea-room.
I color-in implied gestures,
listen to the ambience
of undertones.

They enter a confessional space
lips linger over shared visions,
oracles only they can read.

Lipstick on China cups,
the twirled edge of a napkin,
the unclasped mouth of a purse;
pieces arranged on a white tablecloth
of magnetic intimations.

They are both attractive
yet in different ways,
together they impart
a comforting confidentiality;
bring to this small space
a delicate allurement.

I sense a wry tilt into humor,
a deeper conversation surfaces
as they settle the bill.

Leaving the warmth of the tea house
they kiss
but only lightly upon cheeks,
no flamboyance,
yet the inferred diffidence
is far more telling.

One of them seems to carry
the other's onus of care
sheltering her body from the cold.

I have a brief impulse to follow,
to stay awhile
in their mutual life raft.

These observations I record here,
are moments
to be contemplated only later
with closed eyes.

Shell-Shock

A new dawn,
Unveiled hopes and surreal ecstatic.
The smiles on their faces,
Heralded news, 
The folks were delighted.

It was worth every ounce of struggle.
Though, a dilemma.
Afraid of separation.
Yet, desperate to experience the journey.

The ambience compelled me.
I was finally seen off,
I was on a voyage to satisfy nature's balance.
Now I learned the way of flying.
They had fed me once, now the tables had turned.

The man I was had been called a coward.
They celebrated my bravery now.
Decorated badges shone and made them proud.
I lost one and two things to earn it.
Was it really worth it?

The grasp of my anxiety grew.
On a bright sunny day,
I was summoned by a great war.
The fallen heroes' cries haunted me,
They never let me close my eye.
Though I dodged death,
My mates did not.

When consciousness returned.
A stream of blood filled my sight.
Decapitated bodies, blasted arms,
Eyes bulging out of their sockets,
The fallen were the luckiest.
One who lived was burning in hell.

Men begged me to put an end to their agony.
Our eyes shed blood,
Tears dried out.
I wished to shoot my brains out too.
The nefarious haunted site was too much to bear.
"I couldn't" I cried ....

A bullet shell dropped beside me.
I had killed my own man, or had I helped him?
His heart wide opened, and my shank.
My shin mangled, my eardrums burst.
"Medic! Medic! Medic!"
A few men rushed and took me away.

I only saw them talking but heard no word.
Certainly they would cut it.
The pain fainted me right away.
A chunk of metal cost me a leg.

What would a hurt man do?
Run away to his folks.
So did I.
The smile on their faces now faded.
They hardly talked about their dream again.
Blames encompassed a loop.
Still celebrated as a hero.

The shell-shock and vivid imagery of the war,
Ran through my mind every now and then.
I never slept again.
Trapped inside a war I had never waged.
It had now changed my periphery of life.
I despised it.
The fallen were the luckiest.
I couldn't even stand on my own.
I barely opened my mouth, only to be fed.

There it hangs, my greatest achievement,
So the folks claimed.
Why did I live in guilt then?
Was it to hide my sins,
Or to make me feel proud?
The barrage of questions and bullets,
Never left my conscience.
I may have quit the war,
It still ran inside my head.
© Tapan Nath  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Star Studded Sky

...stars are here and now and everywhere
               there as night falls and when daytime glow surrenders

               For you my friend to show me the light in synchronous contrast to
               life's vagaries because you are my moon when darkness lingers

          When Lucifer dances with the devil's faceless grimace and Satan stokes
          the fire my earth my heaven hearth absorb the ember of reflecting stars

     Then I remember the ocean's tide when lost in desert sand and scorching
     heat feel your passionate embrace and salvage guidance to shores and core

Fluorescent radiance displays eternal ambience when passing through this
life so short miniscule and impermanent as flares ascend from heaving weights

     You bring the mountains' luminescence when mounting sunken valleys soar
     without the coming of the comets there is no path no growth no change

          In timeless flow I gather recollect and cherish the moments when
          life bringing lava is still to melt collection of the pleasant cooling warmth

               When dusk begins to search new dawning I can feel rainbows relate to
               sun and blinding rays receding in peaceful touch and mellowing caress

Stars overcome ambivalence and focus on collaboration and complement
transient confusion when their meaning is not abandoned for materialistic gain

...stars are here and now and everywhere to point the torch away 
     from greed towards humility humanity to kindness and compassion in the 
         knowledge that they make my life what it is and will be in combination 
               with concealed defeat which is a blessing in disguise a gift from nature

...even in the midday basking glory of vision and enlightened reason
               they grant motion and emotion and are there because they are...

02 July 2016

Premium Member Lawless Sonnet on Whispers of Autumn


      Whispers of Autumn : August to welcome.
      with cloudless cerulean sky to shine.
      Luster of Autumn is bliss of season.
      Amazing amiable ambience.

     Environ to enchant on excellence.
     Ample asters glow in rows and columns
     Sparkling glistening astounding Autumn
     on  hyaline  indigo horizon.

     Dry leaves leave deciduous trees as seen.
    Heavy showers getting no preference.
    Glossy freshness is Autumn 's assurance.
    Autumn -radiance painting sky-album

    Autumn - glaze on shimmering Sun's spectrum.
    Butterflies fly on flowery freedom.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Voice of Woods

Hello Friend!
You are welcome! 
Don’t underrate that we are boasting about ourselves.
Don’t treat us as the suppliers of the basic needs only.
Try to reach our inner voice.

When you get disturbed, 
You can come and roam under this canopy. 
You certainly feel the ambience pious and solicitous
The green cover soothes and cheers your heart.
You can regain your energy and confidence.

You know, your forefathers roamed happily in these glades.
Fairies often came down and rested here. 
Knowing this, they used to worship us. 
Their cultures and festivals were tied with us.
Believe it or not, still we can hear their voices lingering on in this air.

During autumn, we shed our leaves
And in spring we get the lost glory back.
We never get demoralized. 
We know Life and its secrets.

“Service” is our motto.
You sit on chairs; 
Sleep on cots; 
Eat our fruits and nuts 
Everything is being used - hides, herbs, roots, leaves and what not... 
Store your valuables in the wooden boxes; 
We die and transform into coffins to safeguard your corpse. Why? 
We know the purpose of living.
Living or dying doesn’t matter.
Serving others gives the bliss of heaven.

Look at the age- old Oak trees
Standing like staunch pillars
They are symbols for strong determination and invincible spirit.

Our strength lies in our roots.
They are hidden in this soil.
The inner strength is superior to all.
Look at the mighty trees. How humble they are!

The calamities sometimes cause severe damage to us.
But we can withstand and revamp this pristine nature..
Is it not the sign of our perseverance?

Hundreds of creatures find their dwellings in us.
Are we not protecting them like a mother?

Dear friend,
 Recall the moral of the story that you read in your childhood.
“Enjoy the egg but not be greedy and try not to cut open the hen.”

Remember,
Protecting trees means you are building a heaven for your grandchildren.




PLACED : 1ST

Wisdom from Trees Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Date: 19-05-2022

Premium Member Midtown

Meet surprise here as ambience greets,
Indulge the gaze on ample peace;
Dream fond good cheer with joy most sweet,
Trust in sure craze of profound ease;
Observe the lot in space discrete,
Work mindful grace where touch sees more;
Note how grand thoughts can move sure feat.
Word frames the trace from inner core,
Opt savvy style to face the day;
Nurture good times with laughter's surge,
Dance with fine smiles your vivid play;
Employ dear rhymes with poise and urge,
Rouse cheery fate to sparkle bright,
Stretch a grand date where grandeur lights.





Leon Enriquez
30 July 2016
Singapore
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Difference a Rhyme Makes

Ominous leaden clouds sink low in the sky overhead.
Tiny sparrows cease to fly and seek shelter instead.
Shadows fade, the sun slinks away and disappears.
The gloomy day only increases all uncertainty and fears.

Everything seems to have turned the colour of ash.
Morose feelings overcome me, as rain falls with a splash.
As I walk along it stains the pure white concrete slab.
As the day darkens, my colourful clothes look drab. 

The ambience that surrounds me is most depressing.
I don a sullen expression. I can’t stop myself stressing.
As the rain subsides, a misty fog draws in like a curtain.
I can’t see the colours of day. I must get home for certain.

Dispirited and glum, I can hardly tell black from white.
The unwelcoming day to my dismay has turned to night.
This empty sadness I feel renders me deeply down cast.
I know I will be OK when I arrive safely home at last.
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace