Long Blanket Poems
Long Blanket Poems. Below are the most popular long Blanket by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blanket poems by poem length and keyword.
Still ... I waited,
Turkey Day was over ...
Stars spattered the vault like silver paint
As I stood on the back deck
A dazzling, frigid, white world around me
Family and friends had all gone home
The glow of the day and food and fun and framboise
Warming my cheeks and my spirit, despite the bite of arctic chill
A perfect day and elegant evening
Yet one thing remained ... unresolved
One visitor had yet to make an appearance
And I would not, could not, head to slumber without it
She was the harbinger of Christmas
And my world stood still in that regard, until her blessing was given
No sooner had I thought that exact thing
When the sky lit up with golden fire
Fire that streaked and spun and shimmered
The trails of her magical wings, wrapping me and the house in an instant
And coming to rest, ever-so-briefly, atop my head
An even warmer glow than earlier, enveloping me in a blanket of joy
Yet, I waited for one more thing ... quiet and still
Anxious for that wondrous tickle in my ear
And finally, it came ...
"May your holidays be bright" the sweet, prickly voice whispered
"May the twinkle of my wings and wonders ...
Be the star that guides your heart ... to Christmas"
And just as quickly as it had come, all was dark again
But my soul was full and free and content
For now Christmas would come
Hallowed and happy ...
After all.
This did not place in the "November Twinkle Fairy" Poetry Contest.
I'm not a wild flower
I'm not a hillside meadow,
I'm nothing more than
dormant grass hiding
in a rocky mountain's shadow.
Lifeless at the edges,
Evergreen turned brown,
stepped upon by footsteps
from the villian of the town.
The summer is too long
The summer is too dry,
Where is the green keeper
Where are the grazing pastures
Where is the early red flamed sky?
Come to me
Sweet first October rain
Come to me
with spuming bubbles of champagne,
Sprinkle softly against my ear,
every lettter of your name.
Come to me,
Give me back the sparkle,
Cover me with glitter,
Do not let me die!
Do not let me wither!
Bring me back to life,
Wash me over with your
musky and earthy smell,
Wrap me in a blanket
of fluffed polar silver pearl.
Come to me
Sweet first October rain,
Let me bathe in gentle waters,
Let me soak,let me grow stronger,
in the outpour of your claim.
I'm not a wild flower
I'm not a hillside meadow
I am nothing more
than dormant grass hiding
in a mountain's shadow.
Come to me
Sweet first October rain,
Splash me green and greener,
Drizzle fresh drops on my pain.
Come to me
Sweet first October rain
Come to me
with spuming bubbles of champagne,
Sprinkle softly against my ear
every letter of my name.
A red sun rising soon turns gold
So quiet this morning
Nothing new being told
Until the woodpecker's loud warning
Heavenly Father what a beautiful sky
A pale blue blanket cover
Kissed by the sun's golden touch
A stillness, quiet lightly does hovers
A dove awakes the crow
Then a songbird greets the day
There's a mockingbird in the distance
Singing his song while at play
Slowly mankind begins to awaken
As the sun almost touches pines.
Those tops that are high reaching the skyline
Soon the sun will reach its designed define
Ecclesiastes 1:5
The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he (it) arose.
God intentionally confined the oceans within certain parameters, establishing coastlines and boundaries they cannot surpass (Psalm 104:9; Jeremiah 5:22). Even amidst powerful storms, the seas obey God’s appointed borders. This demonstrates God’s sovereignty and reminds us that the forces of nature ultimately answer to Him.
For you, I would burn down the world
Let the ashes left behind seep through my fingers
Have no regrets to linger on in my heart
When I see the pricelessness of your smile
For you, I would kill anyone who harms you
No matter what the cost I'd have to pay
You would be worth it all
To keep you forever safe
For you, I would take a bullet
Jump in the way with no hesitation
Knowing that you'd hold me in your arms
Even as I bleed out into the dirt
For you, I give my entire life
To share in all our dreams, yours and mine alike
The world is ours to conquer
Adventures our to set out on
For you, I give my heart
And all the love that is inside of it
You took the frozen parts of me
And thawed them out to let me believe again
For you, I give my soul
Our lives to be intertwined for eternity
A promise that will never be broken
And I will share in your pain, as you share in mine
With you, I will watch the end of a million sunsets
Lay under the blanket of an infinite amount of stars
Hold your hand in mine, lay your head on my chest
And when the end finally comes to our immortal journey
I will watch galaxies collide with you at the end of time
And feel ineffable tranquility~
I remember our first picnic
In an isolated spot
By a cool mountain waterfall
On a summer day very hot
We were still just young kids
The dates we had were very few
I welcomed this opportunity
To be alone all day with you
We laid out our blanket
Near a pool formed by the stream
The hike to this isolated spot
Took hours, or so it seemed
The weight of the backpack
Stuffed with food and bottles of wine
I was glad to be relieved of
When the perfect spot we did find
It was you who suggested we take a dip
To cool off from our hike
Though we hadn’t thought to pack swim suits
A fact I was starting to like
I watched you very closely
Unveil perfection before my eyes
You were coyly enjoying me staring
I hadn’t started undressing – I realized
We swam and then we ate some lunch
Still unclothed we sipped red wine
Before our picnic had come to an end
I was yours and you were mine
Twenty-five years later
Once a year we picnic there
Still never packing swim suits
And your perfection everywhere
They made a huge nest with straws of golden hay
on the top of a fragrant, shady apple tree;
and they were the beautiful bluejays of May
that constantly warbled until sunset vanished entirely.
They have gone to a warmer place with pretty cotton fields...
before winter approaches and turns into a white blanket,
but my nostalgia for the departed bluejays with soft wings
fills the chilly and stormy air with something I can't predict.
Oh, bluejays which other bluest sky you fly under...
without the fear of an impetous, frightful thunder,
to find that haven which delights even a restless lark
when sunrise arises his desire to be a free heart?
Luckily, they won't be here when the frigid wheather will be coming...
when that glistening blanket of snow will cover every meadow;
they will remember spring battering the land with a sudden windstorm...
and listening to their cheerful song, brought true joy to my living.
Oh, bluejays from this icy window I yearn for a celestial, melodic praise!
Could anything console me as the moon wanes,
if sunrise offers no hope for my deep longing
that soars over miles of frozen sky...until it awakens me from dreaming?
Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci
Written for Constance-A Rambling Poet
for Beautiful Birds Mini Blog Contest
The taste of iron clings to my tongue,
sharp and thick,
like something pilled from the earth's deepest wound,
cold as the air that cuts through my lungs
freezing each breath before it can leave my chest,
Winter has a way of making everything feel like glass
Brittle, sharp, waiting to shatter.
My lips are cracked, numb
And I can feel the weight of the cold in every step
a blanket of frost on my shoulders,
the world silent but for the creek of old bones
and stinging of frozen skin.
Every inhale burns, leaving a metallic taste
A reminder of something forgotten.
Something old and bitter.
The sky hangs low, heavy with gray
as though it too is choking on the cold,
unable to swallow the weight of the passing days.
And still, I move through it -
through the biting wind,
through the haze of something I cannot name.
Leaving behind tracks in the snow,
each one swallowed by the cold,
erased before it can matter.
The taste of blood - salt and iron
mingles with the frost on my lips
and I wonder
does anyone else feel it?
The way the world is paused,
frozen between breaths,
waiting for something to break.
Tucked in a keepsake box,
A lace linen napkin
Holds in its gentle fold,
A tiny stick.
I recall the moment
My love for you emerged,
In the silent language of
Two little lines.
~
Through the nursery window,
The white lace curtains swayed
With every little breath
Of gentle breeze.
They danced to mark the moment
I felt you stir inside,
A whisper of your life
With just a kick.
~
Little owls on a blanket
Edged with lace and purple hearts
Brought warmth as I first nursed you,
Newly born.
All shifted in that moment,
You, wrapped within my arms,
My swaddled heart inside
Lace purple hearts.
~
A crafted birthday card,
In perfect little hands,
Adorned with lace heart cutouts,
From you to me.
My girl, just three years old,
Beaming as I read,
“I love my mommy,”
Written in red crayon.
~
My child, you were made
From purest, truest love,
Uniquely woven, delicate,
And rare.
Each day that I am living,
I dedicate to you,
My arms were made to keep you
Close to me.
~
For nothing is so precious,
As you inside my cradle,
You and I, forever
Intertwined.
In every cherished moment,
And in each one to come
You’ll be, forever laced
Inside my heart.
Just before dawn
It is late at night, almost morning; the silence is as noisy as high
tide washing over the pebbled shore. Gloom hangs in the air like
a horse blanket covering a nag`s rain-sodden back.
Tomorrow is the first of October; years have been piling up on me,
this quiet messenger of spent youth and yesterday’s ghosts I have
done my best to ignore, are back mocking me.
Dawn, a cockerel crows I hope my neighbour will kill it and eat it
for his Sunday lunch. The intrusive unvoiced is like watching
a black & white reel of my life, a litany of failures.
Sigh, I didn`t get to meet Marilyn Monroe. This moment when I
Should take stock of my life, all I can think about is to buy
for the fire Monday morning
To remain silent the entire day, like a leaf caught in a corner of the wind,
without news, without voices, just an ocean of deep silence,
filling empty rooms where even echoes no longer dare to return,
as if the walls had embraced all the whispers, leaving only a void.
To let yourself be carried by the current, a cloud drifting aimlessly in the sky of time,
without caring, without reaching for anything, for sometimes it's simpler
to watch the world follow its course like a silent river,
without trying to interfere in its perpetual dance, just to observe.
This is a unique sadness, gentle yet heavy, like a blanket of mist,
that caresses and presses at the same time, letting time flow by you
like an underground river, while you remain still, a tree frozen
in the quiet of the night, wrapped in the burden of being alone under closed eyelids.
To let worries fade away, like shadows at sunset,
not because they have disappeared, but because you have grown accustomed to them,
a silent pain, an immobility that seems endless,
like a starless sky, where you no longer feel the need to fly, only to float,
understanding that sometimes, in this profound silence, you find a form of peace,
even though you are aware that beneath this silence, the waves wait
to tell their story again.