Long Blooms Poems
Long Blooms Poems. Below are the most popular long Blooms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blooms poems by poem length and keyword.
In moonlight she flows, pure romance,
And appears as though lost in trance;
But heart beating wildly with rapture,
On a night of beauty none can capture!
Katarina, Katarina, have you seen her?
With eyes of blackness and all astir?
Night blooms, and she comes alive;
When bees are sleeping in little hives.
Graceful Katarina moves like a dream,
Cool and feverish as melting ice cream.
When gone the long day of the sun,
A pleasing fantasy is then begun!
Katarina, Katarina, lissome as a swan,
And the delicate limbs birds light upon.
But knowing pricks the heart with pain-
She shall never come again!
Between the reaching shades of tall trees
copper-leafed hillocks’ catch fire,
ghost flames
burnish the slow stealth of evening.
A translucent straw-light
seen only through the thumb hole
of a painter’s pallet,
or in that late sunlit wash, that blooms
so openly that eyes miss it.
Redolent are the long shadows
dipped as they are in rich earthy scents.
The flaxen hay is layered between
timbered silhouettes,
where gossamer ribbons of vapor
hazes-over honeyed acers.
Softly a lambent buoyancy of evening
blends amber and russet wisps
with hues of sorrel and orange.
A mellowing sky drapes over the fields
a chiffon fan of muted rays.
The tawny straws turn slowly,
all unclear to daylight eyes,
but by this eventide
we will view this ebbing day
through a golden glass.
Waiting For The Prize
First month this year
passed by with cheer;
each day that's done
leads to the one
We all wait for
that gives us more
warm days with sun
and time for fun.
More months to go
with cold and snow;
wool scarfs and boots
warm coats top suits.
As March comes 'round,
though bare the ground
spring buds can grow;
pop through the snow.
With March we'll spend
mixed days that send
warm air, cold breeze;
our new spring tease.
Month four brings rain
to wash the stain
of past days' mud;
sprout leaf and bud.
Next month brings May!
We're on our way.
Sun's warm and bright;
new blooms in sight.
Then June is here!
We smile and cheer,
and claim our prize!
Fun days, blue skies!
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: 128 Words
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 02/04/2018
Rules: 4 words per line all 1 syllable each. So 4 syllables per line.
32 line poem, so in total 128 words.
Graceful blossoms frolic in our garden midst bliss
what a sight to behold; I would not like to miss…
Graceful sunflowers sway gaily with wind waltzes
petals stay cleaving while celestial ray gazes...
Graceful gumamelas do showcase each bright bloom
vibrantly vanquishing environmental gloom…
Graceful daisy moves along cold breezy delight
basking with freedom, cheering sparrows in their flight…
Graceful sampaguitas waft serenely sweet scent
oozing blest redolence, seemingly heaven-sent…
Graceful calalilies arrayed in white aglow
sashay like ballerina along strong air blow…
Now praising God* Who nourishes with all His best
our blooms render graceful floral curtsy, so blest!!!
“Praise ye the LORD. I will praise the LORD with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, and in the congregation. The works of the LORD are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.” Psalms 111:1-2
October 1, 2023
Expelled from paradise, directed down to hell
Whose court is talking about justice here?
Yours are the apples, and your garden blooms so well
Pick any fruit, and treat the snake, my dear
The cruel punishment will never put them right,
Your congregation of the disingenuous slaves
The triumph of the law will not be glorified
By their rants expanded through the airwaves
If it's the other way around, what about
The high intention of a servant to command
Slaves become masters, so you see their snouts
Stick everywhere, your privacy is scanned
Sisyphus pushes up again his cobblestone
Choirs sing the psalms into the painted sky
Whilst in his tiny room the last bookworm
Hears the voices of those who refused to die.
Sweet blossoms bloom under a sky so round
and arc toward sunlight with a fragrant scent
They dance in silence above rooted ground
Green leaves tilt upward in a subtle bent
Dare to pluck blossoms for window display
and watch soft bubbles clinging to their stem
Should I arrange flowers in glass ballet,
or allow them life, so I'll not condemn?
For what is beauty if its stem is cut,
and placed in water apart from its birth?
To watch blooms wilt as fragrant flowers shut
and tossed away when it has lost its worth
Rather keep blooms beneath cathedral sky
For humming bee's wings, colored butterflies
3/25/15 contest Blossoms and Bubbles
Feeling awkward to ring his own doorbell
Fearing someone else has taken his place
He lingers there, standing on the dark porch
Jealous of the solitary moth buzzing her air,
Walking away briskly, unsure what to say
If she opens the door at this midnight hour,
He retreats hastily, resuming to go nowhere.
Road he knows well, takes him to quiet beach
Where together they inflamed ardent promise
When bouncing tides had sensuous meaning.
Sights on his walk treat him like a stranger
As blooms curl up upon glancing his stare
Dissipating remnants of nocturnal fragrance.
Stars that once twinkled, now look darkened,
Air that refreshed souls now smells misty salt
As silence reigns words yearning for dialogue.
Crushed by saddened raps, he turns around
And there he sees her tracing his lonely path--
Ignoring his open arms, briskly she carries on.
June 3, 2018
Placed first in contest #525 by Brian Strand
wind e c h o e s through tangled emerald trees
and nature has painted me a beautiful sky
a masterpiece of swirling and twirling clouds
and all around me NATURE is wondrous
as I touch perfect purple blooms growing sweetly
and caress tendrils of a vine
oh, how I love
their twisty, curling and twirling way
and the FOREST is a rhapsody lovely
with birds of all kinds singing from hidden places
so, I pause and listen to their symphony
the highs, lows and the s h r i l l s and trills ...
______________________
March 21, 2022 (inspired by an old poem)
Poetry/Free Verse/Forest Meandering
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1441-389-21
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, A Brian Strand 1094
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 03/23/2022
First Place
They came with dust on their boots and a morning star,
Shadows of boyhood still clinging to their shoulders—
They were sons of the land, faces bright with the dew,
Carrying small, cherished photographs in their breast pockets.
They rose with the sun’s trumpet call at dawn,
A summons to arms, to fear, to death—
Yet they did not tremble,
They carried the burden like a hymn on their lips.
Mothers with hands trembling at kitchen sinks
Counted each day as an offering—
Each letter a balm, each silence a wound.
Their prayers rose with the smoke of factory chimneys.
The beaches were gardens of iron and flame,
Where the sea’s voice met the cry of youth—
The soil drank of their blood,
And the wind carried the story homeward.
O Freedom—your price is the soft hush of sacrifice,
The echo of a last goodbye in the night—
They sleep in quiet fields now,
Their names folded in the flag’s bright embrace.
Pride blooms in the hearts of those they left behind—
A tender ache, a candle that will not be quenched.
We walk in their footsteps, grateful and small,
Ever humbled by the price they paid for us all.
The tree still stood where it had been,
Awaiting his return,
Awaiting an embrace of memories,
Those he hid in the deepest part.
He stood in front of the tree,
Calling back old memories,
Under its shade in the heat of the day,
He sat to meditate,
Around it at twilight,
Children played hide and seek.
As he drew close,
The flood of memories enveloped him,
He could remember when they sat under the tree’s canopy,
Her head on his shoulder,
His hand around her
as they bask in the warmth of togetherness.
As his hands run down the bark of the tree,
He could see her hand on his,
He could hear her whisper,
Love blooms eternal,
Eternity summons every soul.
February 19, 2024.