Long Ballerina Poems
Long Ballerina Poems. Below are the most popular long Ballerina by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ballerina poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s a slice of the shining sky hued,
wrapped in delightful tapestry,
flies with a soft flutter subdued
like a dream so fragile and free.
In the whispering wind in glee
it drifts through the twilight glow
in the panorama of joyful show
with the cadence of ballerina in sky.
I perceive the streaks of color flow,
as I fly dreams on wings of butterfly.
Its beauty flashes bright in tow
with the flying fragment of rainbow,
where I find my euphoria lie.
The fantasy with ardent fervor I follow,
as I fly dreams on wings of butterfly.
________________
December 27, 2021
Rhyme pattern : ababbccdcD ccdcD
Contest : "B" Forms, 10 Plus Lines
Sponsor : Constance La France
With her first words she mesmerized his soul,
Of rose water and lavender was her aroma,
Her tip tap of her fairy tale walk was majestic,
A woman of status still in her prime of depth and note,
Wisps of red-hot curls, floating out of control adding
To her appeal, a magnetic touch to the usual
Variety of husband seeking maidens at the ball.
He hurriedly asked her for the opening dance,
She accepted and gracefully took his hand,
He first tested the waters, like a ballerina she danced,
Sadly, the music stopped for an interval, and
So led her back, as her deep smiling hazel brown eyes
Played with his, quizzically asking if she would see him
Again, he bowed and loudly voiced ‘my lady, the next dance
Is mine.’ it was a sweltering July night, she curtsied, and
Walked outside to the patio, attracting every man's attention.
Lord Kingsworth was from Somerset and, the Duchess of York
From Yorkshire, they made a striking couple as they swayed,
Laughed and whirled all night on the dance floor, infatuation
Had certainly crept upon them and the gossip column in
Tomorrow’s Country Times would certainly talk of this romance
And definitely would not let such a juicy piece of scandal escape them.
Lord Edward Kingsworth invited Helen, the duchess of York to a picnic,
Helen, charmingly smiled and accepted, Edward would pick her
Up with his carriage at eleven o`clock the following morning.
He had made up his mind he would ask Helen to become
Betrothed to him, who should he ask for her hand in marriage,
Her eldest brother she explained, as her father had died last
Year of tuberculosis and so it came to pass that after
An engagement of one year which held many ardent nights
And many picnic loving days by the river, which meandered
Close by them, always hurriedly stripping and unashamedly
And joyfully, enjoying the cool water, deliciously naked, finally
Became husband and wife at the beautiful York Cathedral.
What a happy couple they were, and blessed with three
Beautiful little girls who all had their mother’s unruly red hair.
A flower blooms beauty in the prime of spring
Dances as a lone ballerina in the amorous air
Enters many enthralled hearts that surely sing
For her to dance to the tune with charming flair.
To the surrealistic world of her she takes them
Their minds floating mesmerized in ecstatic air
Adulation plucks the flower from the drying stem
Youth wilts with passing years, she doesn’t care.
Time always plays with her life the cruel game
She falls from heights of admiration and grace
Gnawing apathy, an infliction she couldn’t tame
arc light fades as obscurity suffuses to embrace.
Flower of her gleaming youth flashes on her face
She dances to the flitting rhythm of her swan song
Blaze of the last dance makes the stage a fireplace
She burns the affliction, proving people wrong.
Written : September 24, 2017
May 7, 2020
Contest : Brian's Choice 5, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Tears are destined to unchain from the eye
when there's far too much going on inside.
Some eyes are not meant to ever grace light.
Like two blackbirds without a desire to fly.
A heartbeat was meant to spread out
to be felt over the earth and far beyond.
A pebble ignites the soul of a pond.
A beat and ripple are from similar cloth.
Sky ballerina, never stays in one place
, a pleaser for a panel of petaled faces.
Like a vagabond that's often displaced.
Butterfly and vagabond siesta in shade.
Some hands are meant to make love to canvas
Some fancy to finger clay or lay stain to glass.
Many go without as they yield to their passion
Most don't arise until after they're long dead.
ANGEL DANCE
Alas, O those bronze golden trails. He never knew she would leave him, his ballerina. Those practices at dusk in the park at dusk. O how she would dance. Her floral dress witness as the squirrels chatter visit, birds chirp and flutter stars cries as the moon shines shutters. I embrace myself for she dances in the wind within the trees. While each branch and seems every leaf holds her tight. Tis, the dawning for now evening night. I long to waltz with her in the daylight. But now all I see this morning for I see been months now since she’s danced with the moon light and trees. For God has called her home, now I’m alone no longer can I rub her sweet-feet. No more can I await my time to cut in with the trees with the wind. I guess God needed a NEW dance partner. For He chose to call her home. Home to heaven on streets of gold I’m told on angel wings she flown. Now my love dances wit God and the Angels on heaven streets paved with GOLD.
my ballerina
dances on bronze golden trails
while the angels dance
8/30/19
For Angels Danced Poetry Contest
Haibun poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
Spring departs leaving a gorgeous gift for me,
a bunch of rose in my heart for you to greet.
In sweltering summer I won’t let it dry in heat,
in air of lyrical love it’ll shine as ruby, I’ll see.
In summer night through moonbeam I’ll take you
to the passion river across shroud of satin stardust,
glowing with silver flash laced with the lost lust.
In the vase of my heart the roses you’ll see anew.
With charming murmur of the tuneful serenading stream,
the mesmeric music of my yearning I’ll compose.
Entranced by my kiss the emotive eyes you can’t close,
see in fantasy the dance of the ballerina of my dream.
*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*
Hi grandpa, it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass above the nightstand
Remember the tears grandma sang before she pass?
The way she looked into your eyes,
Moments before she said goodbye
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma,
She will always wait for you.
Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed stroking my hair with her hands
I miss the way she rocked me to sleep every night
Hello, grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer?
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina soar
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma loved
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandma's favorite scarf
Hello, Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Remember the way she looked in the yellow pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
Like the walking cane she handcrafted before she left
Hello, grandpa, it's me again!
My tears have soften now,
knowing you will soon see her again
Take your place with her in the sky
Please, say hi and give her a kiss
Tell her I miss her so much
I love you grandpa
~*~
We were going to visit Malta so Paul and I hatched a little plan
I’d bring pork pies over (his grand daughter Valentina is a fan)
Paul would meet us at the airport with his family
Valentina would be able to have pork pie for her tea!
I packed the pork pies in a cold pack and placed them in my bag
The airport security scanner didn’t mind about my savoury swag
I wanted to hand the pies over so they were in their prime
Unfortunately our plane was delayed for quite a long time
This meant we’d miss meeting Sheila. Kirsty and Valentina
Valentina had a ballet lesson to attend - she’s a gifted ballerina!
So Paul met us at the airport and we handed him the pies
I wish Valentina had been there to get this cool surprise!
We exchanged gifts for everyone and I was delighted to see
Yummy Snickers bars and a lemon cake to go with a cup of tea
*A pork pie is a traditional British cold meat pie. It consists of roughly chopped pork and pork jelly sealed in a hot water crust pastry. It is normally eaten as a snack. When I was growing up I had a Saturday job at a shop called 'Pork Farms' and they were famous for their pork pies ... I got so sick of the sight and smell of them I never eat them now!
11~06~16
The extremely lithe, lively, light-hearted Lilybelle me is a ballerina with a twenty-eight inch waist, and six foot legs who wakes me up sometimes dancing and twirling, leaping, and landing. She is light on her feet, and she exudes grace and loveliness. We are wearing luxurious lilac faerie wings this morning. I wake up giggling with pure joy from the not-yet-forgotten leaping and twirling. We are doing lively little pirouettes as I open my eye, into the red eye of a dog who is going to be grouchy.
I groan and the dog groans. I start scooting myself off the bed. Each move is an ouchy move, as my left shoulder is extremely sore this morning, and each scoot is painful. When I get to mattress edge I notice I have fallen asleep in my clothes again. It is six a.m. the cat needs fed.
I smile at the dog who has closed her eye. I picture her in a red netted tutu with silver sequins, and rhinestones, twirling and whirling, wearing red satin ballet slippers and a little puffy netted hat headband. She opens her mouth just a bit, showing me her teeth.
My floorboards sigh as lovely Lilybelle disappears, and my size nine elephant feet hit the floor with grace.
This is a collaboration with Susan Ashley, excerpts taken from her Amberina Ballerina poem. One of the best writes I've ever read, check it out!
Thanks Susan for your awesome work, I loved this and have high hopes for this song!
UNTAMED HEART
My untamed heart,
ruled by unruly wants
Sometimes in tatters,
but flatters and taunts
I played at life...
but life played me harder,
Lived bet to debt...
in life's Russian roulette
Chorus
I'm like a ghost ship,
stranded on breakers
searching for life, without any light
I rummage through...
my Psyches ruins
Dreams duel disasters,
but give up the fight
I place a wager...
speed into danger
My foolish whims,
scatter in mistral winds
Now tossed by waves,
by blind forces of fate
How they orchestrate,
time, distance and place
Bridge
Now all that's left...
lies fallow,
in fields of regret
Hopes of a new day...
are shattered
by a doomed sunset
Chorus
I'm like a ghost ship,
stranded on breakers
searching for life, without any light
I rummage through...
my Psyches ruins
Dreams duel disasters,
but give up the fight
Outro
Dreams duel disasters,
but give up the fight
Dreams duel disasters,
but give up the fight
repeat and fade
Written November 26,2021
(revised Nov29,2021)
John Derek Hamilton, Susan Ashley