Long Bangles Poems

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


Dewdrops

As the early morning sun rises 
in private I am yours  
I can see your purple iris 
cast a marrow of essenced bliss 
my way, and as my senses roar  
you stir me to the core

She's a dainty eyelet adage 
my Queen of irisis
Centered in my antique carriage 
a pearl of wisdom for marriage 
she is, flowing like the Tigris 
I flourish with each kiss 

Each dewdrop in the sun sparkles 
telling me I am loved 
brighter than fine golden bangles 
this jewel of vibrant jangles 
was scented from heaven above  
I never, feel unloved. 


June 16, 2022 
Sponsor	Angel L Villanueva
Contest Name	Dewdrops
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Elegant Dance

Rhythmic pose arcs lifting elegant ambience
Graceful dance enshrines artful renascence
Visceral posture invites emotional response
Festive celebration of aesthetic renaissance.

Attired in red and blue of simple elegance 
Glorious style augments swirling excellence
Left arm risen high points gracious eminence
Finger tips lift vivid attire in quiet eloquence.

Golden bangles adorn wrists flirting in stare
A lone yellow flower crowns her silky hair
Folded right arm obstructs in a defiant dare
Index finger hides grief, eyes closed in prayer.

Head turned right, arched with sculpted flair
Tense neck muscles manifest muted despair
Open fingers gesture a stealth grievous flare
Air of intellectual grandeur opulently glares.

Ponder why the painter didn't show her eyes
Discover invisible pain vibrant colors disguise
Beneath the splendor lies a hidden surprise
Cultural dance-music echoes her silent cries.
 

September 22, 2017
Placed 1st:Poems that paint a picture
Painter: Anna Razumovskaya
Sponsor: Silent One
HM: Strand choice U contest by Brian Strand
art
Form: Quatrain

FAIRY AFTERNOON

fairy ring beckoned with fallen oaks the seat 
she loosened blond hair for all elves to see 
dancing in a circle around one rock deep 
toadstools were there numerous with buzzing bees
owl hooted deep, arriving late afternoon 
in distance farmhouse empty, sported balloons
spiders and grasshoppers smashed cymbals and drums
vineyard workers sleepily dreamily hummed


fat strawberries blood red on juicy offer 
down she descended into a loamy hole
to examine nourishing cocoa coffers
then taste spiced cherry brandy alongside moles
her pink petalled dress became nastily soiled
she lost her wide crimson hat to earthworms coiled
tunnels were decorated with soft chestnuts 
ladybugs slowly shopped for investment huts


below she found busy beetles, flora seeds
grey weevils digging into sour rotting leaves
roots of varying colours with buried beads
entangled were elf lovers like naughty thieves
teasingly were filled with the fruity brandy
many were heady drunk they became angry 
she judiciously spotted coloured bangles
happily returned to own tree bespangled !


                      **
Form: Rispetto

Golden Raven

I was on a plantain branch
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
She put her bangles on a rock
Glimpse of gold, shined my eyes
I took it and flew back home.

A cry of fury trembling hut,
I wonder why she made that fuss.
With a bit of twinge I shout, 
“One I took, three with you!”
Still her rage in frenzy mood,
Crowd is fanning flames to grow,
In my nest it shine and rest,
Golden bangle shining lust.
Then I went back looking around,
To watch the jokers in a run,
But my eyes in surprise hunt,
The bustle of hut in deep slumber.
Oh! Again this gold will turn, 
me a golden king of crows.
Another bangle on the rock, 
I took it and flew back home.
What a foolish bird I’m, 
Fallen on their tricky trap.
They found my nest and climbed up tree,
My two bangles went with them.


Second Place in I am a Bird - Personification Poetry Contest sponsored by Tania Kitchin

Premium Member Bangles on her Arms

My grandmother passed on her untarnished eight bangles to my mother,
My mother passed on the same exquisite bangles to me,
I asked my daughter when she got married “do you want these bangles?”
She said “These are pretty, but too tiny for me  - I won’t be able to wear them.”

The jeweller had a suggestion-
After all, they are all precious metals! Twenty-four carat! 
He turned those unadulterated gold into an elegant necklace.
My heart sank parting with those ornate pieces, 
which connected me with the women, 
who paved my way so that 
I did not have to live the life they did.  

Now those bangles shine only on a picture of me in a wedding dress!


The Recepticle : One of a kind

Recepticle:  One of a kind

It was a thoughtful gift
in the shape of her heart

Symbolic inscription-
"Love's Everlasting Hopes"
kept next to the front door
In shadow, in half-light.

She kept her car keys there.
Small change, new receipts
pins and paperclips, pens
lipstick, bangles, spare things...

Simple concave, convex
Moulded mind-heart shape
Porcelain pale shadow
Clear intent left it there

Till the time came when smirk smile
black hate eyes stepped inside
sleight of hand side-swipe flick
despise, devalue, discard
done with splitting, slitting
pound of flesh sacrifice-

So easy to replace, 
no end to his supplies
She only had One Heart
for him, no Big Surprise, 
a common vessel trade
for his communal use

Belly feels deep pity
for its now shattered state, 
She drops to hands and knees
Picks up each fragile piece

bright blood drips from fresh cuts 
thin red lines smear love read,
Torn vessel spills plasma
tears, love is precious life

Dustpan holds bits and pieces... 
Impulse to throw away
Hesitation- thoughtful
ancient wisdom whispers, 
revalue all for gain
Again, a gain, again

She knows  what she can do... 

Fix it with liquid gold

Now it gleams in the dark. 


A Receptacle Poem: One of a kind

Aqua Marine Poems. 
Restructured from my original poem posted in 2016.

Glass Bangles

Shattered pieces of glass bangles
Stepped on one and pierced my foot
The pain was not much as compared to 
that which numbed my mind….

You were gone that day
The glass pieces fallen in array
Revealing the story of my shattered life
A dream gone askew….

Nostalgic times of picking pieces of glass bangles
in the school playground
To make, to design a beautiful kaleidoscope
Glass pieces stuck together on a card board….


I bandage the bleeding foot
And sweep away the pieces
Glass bangles to wear no more
But kept the piece that pierced my foot
A memory that life is no greater than a broken piece of glass…

Premium Member Colour Banquet

twist of the wrist,
jingle of glass bangles,
a play of light,
kaleidoscope of colours!
patterns of bright reflections,
each different from another,
and never ever the same!
a garden of flowers,
a forest of autumnal trees, 
orchard of oranges,
a basket of apples,
pouting red lips, 
smiling pink faces,
tearful black eyes,
shades of emotions,
who makes these?
golden crimson sunset,
silver cloud on full moon,
white birds in blue sky,
unending stretch of green meadows
cerulean mountains with snow peak,
red beaked green parrots,
the pink flamingos,
a myriad of colours,
in depths of oceans,
fish among corals,
deadly undulating jelly,
speckled sea snakes,
each colour a language,
each movement a sign,
every vision a gift,
a magic of retinal display!
what hand holds,
twists this kaleidoscope?

Premier contest winner (10)
Written 18/08/2021
Kaleidoscope poetry competition
Chantelle Anne Cooke sponsored
Free verse

My Grandma's Bangles - DHR

Two golden bangles were passed down to me, 
My loving grandma's final legacy, 
My grandma passed away, and I felt bad, 
But her curvy bangles made me so glad, 

I was loathe to wear them, for, lo I thought, 
"They belong to grandma, mine they are not", 
But I kept them safe, locked in a small box, 
And guarded it, as if it were Fort Knox, 

I took them out now and then just to feel, 
And felt Grandma near me, all so real, 
One day, when the moonless darkness set in, 
I brought them out and saw to my chagrin, 

The golden bangles were somewhat glowing, 
My heart beat faster and time was slowing,
A mad magnificent magnetic pull
Made me try them on, they felt soft like wool, 

Suddenly I was in another world, 
Shortly I was flying, to the past hurled, 
I saw my grandpa laughing at a joke, 
Along with this extremely handsome bloke, 

He looked familiar... Oh! That was my dad, 
In old seventies fashion, he was clad, 
I saw a mirror above the fireplace, 
Got the shock of my life... Was that my face? 

I saw wrinkles lining my brow.. Oh, no!! 
My hair was turning white, as white as snow,
I saw not myself, but a face I knew, 
'I' had become 'Grandma' without a clue, 

When, why and how did I turn into her? 
I had worn the bangles, the rest, a blur, 
I looked at my hands where those jewels hung, 
Those glimmering circlets sunlit, they clung, 

Was I stuck being here as my grandma? 
I didn't want those bangles, they had some flaw, 
I tried hard to remove them, but could not, 
They wouldn't come out, though I wrestled and fought, 

I started crying for my mom and dad, 
Closed my eyes and sat in a corner, sad, 
The bangles felt tighter, a false frame-up, 
I heard my mother say, "Child, are you up?"

I opened my eyes, found me in my bed, 
Surprised, I looked at my hands with some dread, 
Those golden, curved bangles were there alright, 
Was my "time travel" just a nightmare's fright?? 

I could smell Grandma in my room, I swear, 
It was as if I had brought her back there, 
I guess the whole truth, I will never know, 
But now, I carry a part of her glow. 



(Narrative Rhyme, 10 syllables per line)
Form: Rhyme

Cash-Memo

it is circulated deep into the soil 
that you’ve wore the dress of paraffin 

in the multidimensional wind of the winter 
the cash-memo of the recently purchased 
gold-bangles 
would reside for some time more 

then all the pregnant women 
would assemble in the river-ghat 
to meditate on the paddy-blossoms 

all diamonds and clubs 
would overcome their insomnia

through this arrangements
the crushing-news of fostering 
flows 

this dilution is well-known 

the river-ripple of the air 
after reading the sun 
would keep some extension of dahlia 
on its palms 

in an unwritten evening 
the demi-god-birth of the fire-flies 
would break

their easy dead bodies 
by the instigation of the surges 
would  ring … and ring… and ring
and spread cheerfulness
 
 
the elderly rain-tree comes to spray anti-biotic 
on the spoilt top-branch of the young lad 
covered with citronella

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