Long Aura Poems
Long Aura Poems. Below are the most popular long Aura by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aura poems by poem length and keyword.
beneath the gnarled b r a n c h e s,
a photo rests within my clutch.
time d
r
i
p
s
like h o n e y e d amber;
i long for vanished visions,
saudade, a muffled heartache.
s
moonlight streaks through tangled trees; h
a silken s i l h o u e t t e shrouds my aura. t
a gentle caress grazes my shoulder, o
memories of her touch f l u t t e r like m
the past entangles with the present;
the scent of f a d e d jasmine lingers.
as the night drones on softly,
cold air wraps around my wistful longing.
poison ivy clings to crumbling cemetery walls.
i look to the heavens for answers,
as the sky weeps and squalls in erupting solar storms.
her scattered ashes settle like snowflakes,
softly blanketing the remnants of forgotten joys,
cradling memories like delicate g l a s s.
the red thread of family ties is now seve /
/ red;
the roots asphyxiate on generational sorrow.
if the olive trees knew what
became of hands that planted them,
their oil would become t
e
a
r
s.
time’s relentless hand ticks on,
while decaying hearts beat like distant d r u m s,
resounding in the silence of cursed solitude.
By this chapel
A new light dawns;
A grand marvel
Of early morn.
A saintly glow
Falls into place;
A mellow show
Upon your face.
Here as I pray,
I come to know:
A lovely ray
Of hope that shows.
A nimbus now
Shines an aura;
Light can endow
New aurora.
I sit with heart,
Mind feels stillness;
Grace now imparts
Joy in calmness.
A certain feel
Sits by my side;
I feel a thrill
That now abides.
Words fail to come
As mind feels blur;
An inner psalm
Floods a new spur.
A while with Thee,
My Lord I pray;
Joy sets me free
As nimbus strays.
Here I sense light
Beyond mere thought;
Love feels most right
When sight is naught.
A touch divine
Has come to me;
Zeal feels most kind
As joy sets free.
And as I leave
For worldly gaze;
Be Thou my gift
In earthly craze.
Leon Enriquez
04 January 2015
Singapore
Destined for the dew drenched dawn,
Awaiting alabaster aura, amazing asters,
In every color, crimson and copper, cerulean
Bold, blazing beauties, bringing brilliance,
Stardust silence, soothing sounds, stillness
Come to life on the crazy clasp of craftiness,
Trembling truths, tugging on tomorrow…
Meant for milky way music, melodies, the muse,
Awakening attentions, alive with the awareness,
Today is not the temptation of tantalizing tones,
Burdened by breathless, blistering balances,
Weights warming the wise and wishing wishes,
Insights into inspirations, inviting inklings,
Creativity, crisply clothed in colors of connection,
Flavors filled with feelings, finding forever….
Fated to feel like the focus is on fresh finds,
Dated dreams, destroying the darkness,
Lifting the life so that listening to love lasts,
Beyond the brilliance of bright bouquets,
Into invitations for imagination and intimacy,
Thrilling tired tones from totally losing,
Exhilarating, exciting, enthralling easy lights,
Shadowed by serenity, splashes of seas, sentiments…
Miracles and wonders, wistfully playing wisdoms,
Arriving amid the summer’s ashen dusk,
Captivating creation, casting shadows across colors,
Breathtaking blues who bask in lasting lavenders,
Prayers praising, psalms partaking of promises,
Given to the God loving, glorified givers…
Together, we can find tomorrow and all its tides,
Abiding in amazing suggestions of solace, silent sounds.
It is time for a new tale
About a man who life doth fail
He toils day and night, night and day
With the stomach a rumbling and no bed to lay
Before dawn he gets to work
To toil, and toil around the clock
Sweat like blood fall off his skin
But failure frame doth life to him deign
Until one night he sits alone
In pitch black dark, with no light he own
When two shadowy men dare to visit him
The man whom life hath failure deem
The man on white sat on his right
A striking light whose room didst bright
The other moved swift to his left
An aura so thick with moves so deft
Merging with the pitch black as he clings to the night
The man glanced hence with weary eyes
At the two fiery men in different guise
Of which he spake with a tired crack
"To whom do you seek in this dumply shack?"
The first spoke now, booming voice clear and true
" I am Light. I have come for you.
I am here to show you a brief reprieve
For I have seen you bleed to stay alive.
I have seen you kneel to ask for bread
Choosing a life of pain to another where you are dead."
"So I come to you, in this pitch black night
To this dumply shack in my fiery light
To ask that you think of the resolve you held for long
Instead of the act, where of men gone you would belong"
The other laughed, in whispers soft and low
Clad in pitch black and a gloomy glow
And thus he deemed it right to speak
With sharpened tone and words so bleak;
" I am the dark, the man whose hands doth bend
The wills of men, none didst contend.
I am the hunger in their empty gut
I am the aching in your weary joint"
" I am here to bring you to the brink
To deem it well to have a think
Of which path will you now take
The path of pain or the one I make?"
The battered man sat still like stone
Smoldered by the forces of the men all alone
To make the choice in that pitch black night
To walk through the dark or the part of light
And slowly, he stands and he closes his eyes
His mouth full of pills, then he swallows and cries
For he had made a choice that is devoid of pain
The bliss of closing his eyes, that was his only gain.
I stood at her hospital bed and cried;
she lay breathing through a tube in her mouth,
and it hurt more than I could hold inside.
I've felt many pains, but this was the worst,
it felt like my heart was going to burst;
facing this reality, unrehearsed.
When she asked to turn the oxygen off
I instructed the doctor to do so;
and I prayed to God she wouldn't start to cough.
Holding her hand, her breathing got shallow,
her faith marking this moment as hallow
her aura shone, although she looked sallow.
She made me swear she would not be revived,
and once her heart had stopped beating, she died;
content that her time to leave had arrived.
Desperately pleading for her to stay,
I was locked in time, stuck on yesterday;
and yet, I knew her life would end today.
Touching my soul as both friend and mother;
we shared a bond that was like no other.
Your aura glows softly on your face,
creating a magical effect.
And your sharp wit cuts clean to the chase,
never dulling from age or neglect.
You taught me to walk tall, never crawl,
exchanging my nagging doubts for pride.
And lifted my spirits, should they fall:
steadfastly standing right by my side.
You cultivated the best in me,
and encouraged my smile to begin.
While your love guided my heart to see
that my feelings needn't be locked within.
I'm so fortunate to have found you,
for you're both my soulmate and best friend.
And proof positive dreams can come true,
a practical and fanciful blend.
What is to live when you have not experienced real love?
What is to breathe when he wakes me soar like a dove?
How do I keep holding on when voices keep screaming in my head?
Screaming, "It was not meant to be,so just let it go!"
But how do I let him go when...
I have become susceptible to his very presence
His aura,an unquenchable bold essence
His gentle touch sends shivers down my spine
His kiss, nothing comes close to being so divine
His sexy smile can make a girl forget her own name
His eyes, their sparkle has indeed made me so tame
How are you so quick to judge when you have not met him?
Do you not know when you do meet your words may become gleam?
His presence will indeed cover you like a glove
Yes, him...his name is none other than... "Succulent Love"
News is there is water ice on the darkest side
of the moon, I wouldn’t drink it just yet,
A gray dirt snow cone is what we’ll get!
Sustaining the cislunar economy, or
linking the moon to the Earth is everything.
Our psyche thirsts for it, bursts of lunar power.
Moon water made during the full moon
or the new moon is most potent.
Tapping into the Luna’s source by steeping
it’s moonglaze, and underneath tomorrow’s
“Ice Moon” it’ll be charged fully.
We are seventy percent water.
The moon affects earthly phenomena,
like tides with its gravitational force.
Our mental state changes with the moon’s phases.
We absorb the Luna's positive aura.
A rare thunderstorm on a full luminous orb,
collects in a glass the energy of the moon
directly under its glow. Charged by the moon’s energy,
Energy so intense it moves oceans!
Through tinted glass we see things
and the world is same as the tint.
The tint is no less than a sharp weapon
as shade that dictates the mind
and makes the heart skip its beat
and desire for shady things.
As rosy the tint is ,as of a rose
blissful and beautiful is the world,
and love is all around.
When the tone sets on the glass is grey,
gloomy,uncertaininty makes the mind stray.
Dark as black ,so are the emotions
osciallating between power to evil.
Many shades and colors to look through,
the world is as many shades u put on,
but still the glass/tint never gives the
picture as it is.
As the hue varies so does the aura.
The reality of realm strikes ,
when there is hardly any tint on the glass,
and also when there is no glass to look through.
Beautiful tint is the one which does not blur the picture
but clears out the cloudy mind
and lets you see a transparent heart.
Throw away the tinted glass and let your
soul be your eyes and heart be the guide.
PS:written on 13-3-2018
O season of amber tulips, of yellow daffodils,
Of grinning verdant prairies, of cheery hills,
Of giggling, burbling streams rushing to seas,
Of fragrant breeze rustling passions of trees;
How scintillating is the glance of your smile,
O grandeur of beauty, how jovial is your style!
O vibrance of growth, of avid nascent moods,
Emerging anew boasting budding attitudes,
Stimulating twigs of maple, oak, sycamore,
Preening aura of leaves now brought to fore;
How rhythmically you sway melodies of spring
Attuning to love themes, fervid robins sing.
O inspiring season, how you thrill meadow,
Reviving glee, from demise of wintry throe
As vibes of romance in mating songs tiptoe
Echoing birds’ frolic, rekindling barren knoll,
Nesting in realms memories of yore cajole,
Where chirps of hatchlings your glory extol.
O season colorful, abloom in showy flowers,
How gaily you tap-dance with April showers
Buoying ardent dreams of bees, butterflies,
Luring spirits romantic of daydreaming eyes
Fixated mirthfully on picturesque springtime
Lauding in awe of your magnificence sublime.
February 25, 2023
Placed 2nd: In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May