Long Await Poems

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


Return

I constantly speak of love and life _ yet I am dying quick twist of-knife.
And secretly wish my eventual death. Solemn await my last-of-breath.

If it is true that we lie in peaceful slumber within eternal rest.
Then I should toil with all my efforts to be rewarded the elusive bliss.

My time upon this realm, once of need and usefulness _ 
Has quickly reared its wag of tail _ now in circles I give chase.

Hold back the fear of how it will come; of never feeling the wind again, or the warmth of the noble sun.
The time is nigh the point of one _ the space in time where I’d begun.

Will it be where I’ll no longer yearn, or will it be where I’ll burn?
It calls for me through the eyes I see _ and wait for my return.

***09112020
Form: Rhyme


Home

When you appeared in spotless white
I knew your face no more,
but I could see you felt at home
when you walked through my door.
The sun shone bright, yet not a ray
did fall into your eyes;
I could not spot a speck of truth,
nor could I read your lies.

When you appeared in spotless white,
I knew not what to say.
So I said “Hi, it’s been a while”,
and “How are you today?”.
There was no time for When and Where,
there was no time for Why.
We stood and saw what time had done,
were speechless, you and I.

When you appeared in spotless white,
it brightened up the house.
But did you come as just a friend,
or did you seek a spouse?
Your answers I did not await,
they mattered not to me.
I locked you in my attic and
I threw away the key.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member ALL THE POEMS THEY'VE YET TO WRIES

He finds himself smiling a lot these days 
like when another day is over…as the sunlight begins to fade…
and he thinks about the day…and all the memories they’ve made.

Or when they take a morning walk along the shore…
and he thinks of all the memories in life they’ve made before.

But as wonderful as old memories are…now…in moments he’s awake
what makes him smile even more…are the memories they’ve yet to make.

Those moments that await them just around the bend…
the pages of their book…the chapters…waiting to be penned.

Yes, in a life that’s filled with poetry…
what brings a smile to his face at night…
before sleep closes his eyes…
are the poems they’ve yet to write.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Crisping Days of Autumn

Petals are withering on late blooming roses 
My Summer garden is beginning to fade
Maples are shedding their last clinging leaves
Amber fields are ready for Fall's gathering

There's a faint chill wafting in the air.
I call it the crisping days of Autumn
and the first hint of a seasonal change
My pastoral view is worthy of a painting
Tomorrow, I'll sketch the visions before me
layers of bold colors as I walk down the lane.

I hear the wind traveling through bare limbs
It seems to be whistling a lively gypsy tune
A song that brings out the wanderer in me
making me quite envious of geese on wing,
honking as they quickly travel south bound.

A stag proudly stands atop the hill
reigning like a king in antlered crown
His warm breath exhaled in a clouded mist
Happy he's caught the attention of a doe.

Autumn has always awakened the artist in me
with its bold palette of crimson, umber and gold
Ruffled russet gowns, once adorning tree limbs
lay wrinkled and scattered across the forest floor

Brushes and canvas await my hand.
It's decor is a kaleidoscope of colors
From sketches I'll paint Autumnal scenes
It's a gift Nature generously offers to me.

Premium Member When the Red Butterflies Fly

On a night in November with a full moon sky
There is a graveyard in the Highlands where spirits fly

Scriptures of old are chanted by the past
As they rise through the earth as the red ones are cast

Gravestones levitate with precision and ease
As dark angels in black glide through the trees

To a stone they surround as they circle above
Slowly they transform into an ebony dark dove

Upon this stone it perches as it awaits the await
For when the red butterflies fly, the light they desecrate

The sky turns from night into a reddy dawn
As the moon hits their red their spirits now flown

They land where they land, guided by the dark dove
Their quest is to capture and lure life's love

In the village near the graveyard on this November night
A population in fear, in fright of their light

Before the sun rises souls are drawn as if sprites
No care for the living, their presence leaves blight

A new day starts as if the previous night never happened
For when the red butterflies fly, come this November night

You may be summoned
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Her Velvet Cloak

The velvet cloak is cascading, all adorned with sequin stars,
Final streaks of sky colors fading, as pearl moon gazes afar.
The queen's lately departed, from the plush burgundy room,
Blue Neptune on her left, and and scarlet Mars on her right,
Trailing stardust in her wake, on the way to beautiful night.
Forays into mystery are waiting, at the dark end of the sun,
And tomorrow's queue of colors, await the orders of golden!
Blueberry darkness lies in its soft, eternal folds everywhere,
And beauty travels always, diamonds and jewels in her hair!
Varicolored flowers await fiery sun, of burnished days of old,
When sunlit cream tulips went on for miles, capturing smiles.

Path Laid Out

Indecision is weighing heavily on my mind
An easy solution I have yet to find
Looking for signs to point me to the way
Growing more confused in the light of each new day

Options I face, the choice is unclear
Nagging pit in my stomach, panic growing near
Listing pros and cons and talking it out
I’m left without an answer still riddled with doubt

Then I look to him please guide me for no path is clear
I’ve looked at both sides now and I see heartbreak and fear
Now that I have asked I await a calm, clear voice
The one that will guide me into making the right choice

Why is it that I always forget he is there
When I am faced with obstacles sometimes I can’t hear
Suddenly it comes to me the path laid out is fine
I just end up kicking myself for wasting so much time
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Big Bad Wolf Nursery Rhyme

The Big Bad Wolf Nursery Rhyme

The big bad wolf is on the prowl.
Those three little pigs have made him scowl.
Will he charge the house made of bricks;
or huff and puff on the one made of sticks?

Little Red Riding Hood, now makes her way.
Will that wolf now have his day?
While on the path to Grandma’s house.
The wolf puts on Gran’s cap and blouse.

He tries to hide those big bad eyes.
His big sharp teeth await their prize.
Little Miss Hood will spoil his fun.
She’ll make the wolf turn tail and run.

Her protected path has let him down.
The wolf’s big smile turns to a frown.
Will the wolf get help from friends?
I think we know how this one ends.

3/8/2021
Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Lady Is a Tramp

They enter the strip
joint like the last 
flurrie of flakes.

She hears the music,
hears the voice of the 
D.J. Wind, enters on cue.

Her cold poles await her 
as she moves to the beat.
One south, one north.
She works them both.

They call her Storm
she is the feature act.
Drawing her minions
in for months now.

Quickly the starkness of ivory
starts to melt off her body.

The long blanched gloves 
covered those particular 
patches are the first to go 
revealing the fresh lustre of 
bare skin once again exposed.

Sexy, 
she's a professional!

She stares out
noticing the skeletal 
frames once only
shadows, 
now with a glimmer 
of light.

She knows her time
is short now
feels a hint
of life in her 
domain of 
dead stares.

Hears sounds
that are telling.

Was that really a chirp 
or just a whistle?

The pulse of warmth starts
to pump through her veins.

Now her shiny robe
falls to the ground and
you can sense the smell
of want in the air.

The flow of liquids 
previously frozen stiff. 

Storm the stripper
slowly teases the crowd.

Down to her Victoria Secret
garb she tugs at our groins
knowing her audience craves
more. 

In this case that also
means less. 

I personally will miss her 
in this present form.

Her tidy white lingerie 
against her tanned skin.

Covered peaks, 
rounded mounds.

You just want to
ride up, and maneuver 
your way down.

The timing is wrong.

I know she will strip bare
as first the top goes then 
down to a G-String of snow. 

Naked,
winter stands
in front of me. 

She will meander a bit 
shake with a breeze
of perfumed cold. 

Slide onto the floor as she undulates 
with her come ons that near a finality.

She saunters off the stage
and me I watch winter's end.

Spring, on winter's barren 
ground starts to peek from 
around the curtain, 
with her touch of green.
Warm breezes.
Her array of pastel colors.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Winter has left the building,

Spring is here!



01~19~2015
Sponsor: SKAT A
Contest: Winters End

This Is For You

He expressed the need for
her to be more efficient.He
wanted her to know that she
was best at what she did and her
voice and personality could make her
affords, to be the most successful in her craft.
She believed him, she trusted him, their affords paid off
when they engaged in the project" To make the all things Great"!
they took small amounts of time, and collaborated with people
who wanted to create Orchestrated noise, with beautiful sounds.
once they created the song's with sounds, they wrote lyrics.
They contracted horns, strings, percussion, and two pianists, these affords were to improve the quality of
the sounds, it worked. they celebrated their success, and hoped and prayed
a craving world wanted to buy and hear some of these beautiful, sounds.
"Ask a drummer what the best part of the song, he?she would probably say the rhythm, unless he's complimenting someone else, every one hear said the songstress, expressed her artistry with her voice, and the background singers
were even greater then the songtress, the musicains were impressed. The composers and lyric writters celebrated their affords with a party, the orcheatsra and singers performed two songs from the upcoming art peice, reporters were wowed, and the rest with be measured upon the sales of concert seat's. they await finding what the shedule of events will be.

"Sing me a Love Song" written by Alotta People, 2018 New Sounds Of Lovers Music Company.( they made a deal for a two million dollar concert tour, which includeds a traveling caterer) New York- San Fran Culinary Tour Team, from ot of Nashville( Chef Bisstra) It had two touring buses, converted into kitchens and one bus with beds for the staff, along the way i's beleived that seven children were conceved by the musicains and the kitchen staff.They made a fortune in concert dates and food sales.It inspired the new song," Loving You,(AKA...I love loving you) and the groovey" Make It Right"
Form: Ballad

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