Long Are hand Poems
Long Are hand Poems. Below are the most popular long Are hand by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Are hand poems by poem length and keyword.
Each midnight glow is like this fleeting stone
And I, although I cherish, cannot steal
Or thrust on shore to hold until it’s grown
Below the tides of eve that plunge shall reel.
I stand as each crest scoops into the deep
And vanishes like jeweled drops of breath
To lie with mother pearls I couldn’t keep
For tiny are hand stems to grip their depth.
So now and then I wish that I may dip
Into the twirling wavelets with my arms
And haul pink mollusks which slide from my grip;
For in their husks, the pearl of Orient charms.
If midnight enthralls me into her sea
Oh, gems I touch only in memory.
by nette onclaud
for Put Your Best Rhyme Forward Contest
Conquer
Heart craves to weep,
Emotions dying of cheat,
In firm grip of sadness,
Going crazy in madness,
Is what depression means !
Just a bit of courage,
Self assessment to encourage,
Knowing world is bad,
Life is both cheers and sad,
Is what elevates the mood !
Too much if you expect,
Always in end will regret,
Roses that you loved,
thorns are hand in glove,
Is what you need to ponder!
Your own self you need to conquer,
No pills needed, why to surrender,
To defeat any forces that subdue,
To negative thoughts must bid adieu,
Dictionary with no antonyms ?
That's what in the end you will get !!
Written December 9th, 2014
For contest'Fighting depression' for Linda
Sponsor- Shadow Hamilton
Awarded 8th place
Parents pass away slowly after their death;
come back as your face in a mirror.
People’s lives’ are a code
written on the blind side of your skin.
You watch yourself
coming out of a childhood bedroom
stained now with a foreboding dream.
Once, getting lost in a dark theater
knowing, even as a child
that would not be the last time.
Yesterday inside a newborn moment,
you grew up too fast
and almost disappeared.
Today your mind
is a crow silhouette in the sky.
A friend dies in your arms.
You take her on your Suzuki
to the Thai river market,
drop her ghost into the Peng river;
hope that it will eventually
find its way back to Arkansas.
You select smells
that you can paste into your mind.
The aroma of strange friends
and friendly strangers.
fold sensorial moments into origami birds
that are not even close
to working models.
People you have known
are hand shadows on
the same wall of time.
And then you are this person
and all you can do
is watch from a distance
as if you were always a father
to these drifters,
these persons, who once shared
the same storms with you.
Written in the stars.
In darkness you find me,
With words on my mind.
The light has been stolen by nightfall
And I,
Can no longer function, so in a bed I lie.
I am in search of a dreamer;
I am in need of more time.
I am in need of distraction, salvation and many more;
I ask for nothing from you, whilst I give you my all.
I am forever entombed inside this man I have become.
My mind is awake, my tired body aches
And I am in need of your love.
I offer you my heart to cherish and to hold;
For I am the thief of the key to your heart.
I wish to unlock your innermost thoughts,
For they are made of pure gold.
You are becoming more and more beautiful,
As each moon departs.
I see us in a future, walking along autumn leaf covered lanes.
We are hand in hand, smiling and laughing
And we have each found our love.
The tree’s overhead keep us sheltered from any rain,
That a dark cloud above may befall us;
We are young no more.
As the grey tints our hair, we reminisce about our youth.
We were young once, but no longer,
But we are still telling the truth.
As our eyes fade and our legs begin to ache,
I whisper to you:
I love you now and always;
Our lives were entwined by the weaver of loves loom
And forever we shall be locked together,
Inside this romance of ours.
I have read it in the tea leaves…
That it was written in the stars.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
My Bicycle of Imagination
The day and I are hand in hand,
brimming with a zippety-whippity-do.
I sit atop my saddle, my bicycle, my hill;
the morning mist is ragged like candy floss
on barbed wire, waggled fences.
Below a liquorice-tarmacked road
elbows through a mosaicked landscape;
churned fields sitting either side,
serrated into channels of earth;
suited and rooted in browned corduroy.
Then further on and along,
the sky sits sedately on the sea,
resting on a blue, rippled settee,
just out of close reach
of a mustard scarf of a beach.
Clouds rear - wild, white stallions;
they settle, then away at a gallop,
racing, chasing the prize in
the finishing line, the horizon.
Watch out, speedy swallow,
now, it’s my time to follow!!
I sense my bicycle’s stalled frustration,
so my body engine sets it free;
muscles tighten, pedals spin,
it’s time to fly, time to check in.
Off we go…wind pushing at my heels,
sunlight splashing off the wheels
down I swoop, a dance of balance;
the bike glides, the road slides.
Watch me come, watch me go
connecting, perfecting with nature’s flow;
sky, land and sea…………WEEEEEEEEEEE!
To touch a tear that falls upon your heart
And feel the silent breath to which I'm wed
To know your love, caress its crumbled part
This broken dream a darkened path I dread
So dance with me before my body's bled
And cross the floor held tight between strong arms
With my need to see your smile with its charms
Tomorrow I will go, I'll not complain
As war has come to pluck and bring its harms
And bind our hearts so tight in final pain
To feel the gentle shimmer of your soul
You quietly move your hand to impart
As silent space between our eyes control
Leaves burning lasting image in my heart
In lighted dawn, I'll go when trains depart
And claim this painful sorrow I must add
To you my love, this dance a moment sad
To me, it's a memory's lasting cry
So dance with me as if your heart is glad
My eyes and lips will only say goodbye
As bombs explode and light the blackest night
I find your face to calm my darkest fear
In man-made holes, we crawl in troubled fight
When battle's hell and soldier's death is near
I try to hold my dance with you my dear
As bullets fragment in their deadly swarm
And men are hand to hand to let blood form
In scented war with visions to forget
Soldiers cry out a name in warring storm
My final breath expels from bayonet
1/12/18 contest The Magic of Three
sponsor Broken Wings
I love this resort I write to my family who sent me here.
Cuetzalan is a marvelous town, I have no worries, sipping a beer.
Actually, I am lonely because loving couples are in the air.
My family sent me on vacation because they care.
Cuetzalan is as magical a town as Mexico ever had.
I truly am grateful for the vacation, paid for by my dad.
But everywhere I look couples are hand in hand and glad.
I want to be a two-some, so this makes me rather sad.
A butterfly with an eye lands on an exotic passiflora next to me.
I am here, she seems to be saying; next arrives a weird bee.
The butterfly continues to follow me daily from here to the sea.
I am not lonely any more, I feel cherished, and am filled with glee.
It’s been too long since you went away.
Now nights are long, and days are gray.
Tears too frequent and embraces missed,
The sound of your voice and your tender kiss.
Your empty seat at the dinner table
Leaves us unbalanced, and life unstable.
When you are gone, all is diminished
The workload is hard and much unfinished.
But oh, how the joy and gratitude flows
When you come into sight and my heart explodes!
I discover how great and surpassing our love
When I see you again, we are hand in glove.
Every time you return, the house is reborn
The family is whole and there’s no place to mourn.
There is no replacement, no other can take
The place that you hold and the difference you make.
All I ask is: "Come home your place is here."
Stay with us forever and keep us near.
We value your sacrifice, service and more
Just be sure to come home and darken our door.
"Man....Style"
by: Eric L. Boddie
A man's style
Can initiate a woman to smile
As well as inspire the Life of a child
At the same time, it tames that which was wild
And you know it will never show denial
It's always lame, flame or mild
And each time it's witnessed, it stays on file
Because it flows a distance with more miles than the Nile
So always remember that the style of a man
Whether he is light, dark or only slightly tanned
Can be the determining factor in if he will stand
In the space where a bride and groom are hand and hand
Or if he stakes claim to a piece of land
Either in the valley, on the hills or next to the sand
Because it has a role in determining his plan
It's how he will be remembered....I hope you understand
It's Man....Style
Every time I see a flower I see your face inside
I love to look at flowers, their beauty cannot hide
See, flowers are so beautiful in ways that we can know
Through sweetly scented petals, in colors of rainbows
Bouquets of lovely orchids, bring thoughts and memories
Of dreamy dreams of meadow walks, and picnics under trees
I've had all sorts of dreams with you, walking lover's lanes
And always we are hand in hand, that common thread remains
Connecting all my thoughts of you with one unbroken twine
That weaves its way and sews the stitch that seals those thoughts as mine
I see your face right now my dear, do you know? I don't suppose
But if you could see me here right now, I'm looking at a rose