Long Birthstones Poems
Long Birthstones Poems. Below are the most popular long Birthstones by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Birthstones poems by poem length and keyword.
Of course I drew a stick person
I was a stick person with a mere bush and spots
stick-to-it-ive-ness
ants crawling on sticks for monkeys
eeh-ahh-eeh-eeh-ahh
stick to your guns
this is a stick up
not stuck up
stick your stomach in
stick your butt out
stick to the facts
these are the facts
stick with me
and i will stick with you
stickers of hearts and unicorns
and stick those lighters up
higher stick them up
now, stonewall
and stone to death
stepping stones
stone cold look
stoney point
stoners
stone cold drunk
on pebble stones
heart of stone
wearing stonewashed leather jeans
sticky buns make for
sticky fingers
chakra stones
sweat lodge stones
sticks and stones may break my bones
but these are just my bones
and for the highly sensitive words can
surely hurt more
used to live in the sticks
with all the hicks
standing stonesin parrallel by Lorenna
mckennit
Let he without sin throw the first stone
rolling stones concert in the
90's
Ye-hoo!
women used to be stoned to death for adultry
stone temple pilots-core
stone sour come whatever may
an iowa band
Rosalena means stone
match sticks and birthstones
her thoughts always stick together
I/She is coherent!
On one side
of the frothy banks of the mind,
is the river of endless death.
With its eddies of blood
heckling swirls of hopelessness.
Every day peck-pecking away.
Until there's no trace of what you were
or what you could have been.
Only black wreathed moles carrying the soul...
into the deepest black hole of night.
On the other side
of the frothy banks of the mind.
A pearly river of life.
With its swirls of hope.
Eddies of love and light.
Every day an endless golden array
of heartwarming sprays.
Lifting the mind into God-woven skies.
Birthstones of cherubs filling potholes of sunken lives.
On either side of the frothy banks of the mind:
a river of death, a river of life.
Birthstones and horoscopes over a chi-square
Months with periscopes everywhere
Moon and Sun in shaded segments
Boon and pun in braided alignments
Spells and pleas yowling in the wilderness
Wells or seas swigging in emptiness
Thoughts wandering around
Droughts and dryness seething in a playground
Warmth or heat you nestled from scorching daylight
Cold air or dew drop sighed by moonlight
Wall clock that restricts your borrowed time
Or unseen counter that predicts your stolen dime
Each day that passes by
All day you ask without a bye
Each night that crawls in the dark
All your might you grope behind a scalded bark
Shadows that follow you
Wedge pillows you never had that haunt you
Tales in dreams that smother you
Puzzles in reams that harrow you...
Why bother when there's none to fear?
Fear only God who's able to hear
Your qualms will never leave you
Only until you believe they're never yours that weave you!
The ancient Romans named the first month in their Julian calendar January, in honor of Janus, their God of doors and gates, his month was thought to be the door to the new year. And for over two thousand years hence, the world has celebrated each birth of a new year upon the first day of January. It's a time of joyous anticipation, hoping for better times ahead contemplating a brand-new fresh start. And so, on its eve, people party to forget the past year and make short-lived resolutions for the new year coming, vowing to improve their lives in little ways. In the northern hemisphere January comes draped in a soft shall of fluffy white snow, while in the southern hemisphere, She dons a leafy gown of emerald green. Her arrival is counted down to the second, with grandiose pageantry and unrestrained revelry. And mothers compete to have their babies born upon the stroke of midnight as crowds all around the world count down, for it is considered an honor to be born precisely at the start of the new year. All babies born in the month of January share birthstones of fiery garnets, and birth-flowers of sweet carnations, symbolizing both constancy and beauty. January bids December adieu with a song of Auld Lang Syne.
December counts down
January approaches
birth of a new year
(Haibun)
12/06/2019
December or January Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
The Youthful Month of June
Hummingbirds hover amid the fragrant air
O’er honeysuckle flowers and roses fair.
Free doves to fly and rain confetti and rice,
Where in the garden my bride and I abide
In the summery view of the charming moon,
In the youthful month of June.
Moonstone ring and pearl string adorn her finger and neck
Whereupon my chest, her head gently rests
With the softest touch, that says I love you so much.
And I savour her beauty in words of poetry,
Quoting Byron, Browning, Shelley, and Keats.
Aye, she melts my heart with her French accent
“L’amour est une chose merveilleuse entre moi et vous
(Love is a wonderful thing between me and you).
Toujours vrai (forever true)”
In the youthful month of June.
***
Note:
“June” is the first month of summer, and has the longest day of the year (summer solstice), around June 21st. The name June comes from the Latin word “Juvenis”, which means young people; and is a popular month to marry. June’s birthstones include moonstone and pearl. Roses and honeysuckles are June’s flowers, which symbolize love, devotion, and generosity, while the dove is the representative bird for the month.
October's Falling Leaves (Tourmaline)
Frost glazed leaves
Of red and yellow sheens
Are strewn about by the breeze.
And it’s charming to trend
Tourmaline’s side-wend
To avoid stepping on them.
Then, she smiles back at me
Uttering in glee,
“October’s falling leaves.”
***
Note:
The opal and pink tourmaline are the most popular birthstones for the month of October, of which the tourmaline is the most popular in the USA. Both gemstones are girls' names. Opal means a “bright future”, and Tourmaline means “colourful jewel”. Since Shakespearean times, the tourmaline is believed to inspire creativity, and is worn as a talisman by writers and artists alike.
First Steps Funerals and Nana's Hands
By Evelyn Aimarie
2 days after my Nana's funeral
My oldest son took his first steps.
She was my grandmother on my father's side, but more like a mother to me.
Palms textured like warm overwashed cotton sheets- thin but comfortable, and clothes line, spring sunshine soft.
Pastel blue intricate
barely visible veins whispered life through skin undertoned with shades of the palest tea stains and ochre,
Broken in tone only by the occasional bruise she swore she couldn't remember where she got.
Tendons like flower roots danced like the underworkings of piano keys when she wiggled her fingers.
She always wore a ring with the birthstones of all of her grandchildren on it.
There was a time before my son.
Before my Nanas hands were so tired, so delicately tired and weighted by their form from generations of holding hands
Holding babies
Holding house holds together.
Holding my heart as it strummed for a mother and she tuned into the song, danced the role beautifully and with ease.
Wore it like a cloak and draped it around my shoulders in support when I brought my son home from the hospital
As she proudly exclaimed how beautiful he was with tears in her eyes.
The time before, when I was small,
I would reach for those... less tired.. more supple hands.
With the ring tighter on the finger to the point we once had to use dish soap and string and the sheer force of panic to remove it. When the skin was not as rubbed of its youth. There was a time when I reached for her hands, too, for balance.
2 days after my Nanas funeral, the same day I inherited her ring with the birthstones of all of her grandchildren on it
The first day I had it on my finger
My oldest son took his first steps into MY outstretched hands.
I suppose, I'm keeping her cloak warm.
I suppose, I miss her.
I suppose, my Nana's hands were on my shoulders behind me that day.
2 days after my Nana's funeral,
My oldest son took his first steps
Form:
Write a Beautiful Rubaiyat Rhyme 1-31-26 Constance LaFrance Rhymes checked with Rhyme Zone
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Serendipity's Rhapsody of Snow
A twilight rhapsody of snow
When Serendipity's magic flows
Upon each branch a gown of white
Snowflakes sparkle in the afterglow.
I love to walk in her dusky twilight
Through magic spells, heavenly delights,
When boughs glitter with gleaming gemstones
Winter's ornaments of delight.
Evening murmurs as flurries moan
In shades of amber, coral and roan
In the alpenglow I feel such bliss
As snowflakes fall like winter birthstones.
This her wonderland of sparkle and glitz
Each tree glows with her crystal kiss
Enchanted child, the dancing queen,
Fills starlit dreams when I reminisce.