Long Blue(a) Poems
Long Blue(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Blue(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blue(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
The combination
Locks
The drops that say
Today
Rain is in the forecast
And come what may
Can stay
The easy isn't
Answers
No lies the storys
True
With blue a backdrop
Waiting and clouds
That crowd
For you
I saw it simply
Simple
The hats and chaps
That clear
Ahead is no like
Answers
With roses
That show
Your dear
So tick the tock
And mean it
The stop like locks
Like clues
The news is free
Like always and
Mondays
Mean like lose
I Mean it
I have a
Hither
The morning
Cast it's shine
Like mine the meanings
Missing like locks
That's hard to find
So see me
Its a secret
I'll love you
When your gone
And song will play
Forever
And then its
Wrong
Like locks and
Leave it simple
Go here to find a
Clue
A combination
Of sorrow and
Tomorrow
Will say
Its true
How can a stranger standing at the corner,
leave me breathless, in a trance... I ask you?…
What are the chances, in such a moment,
one brief encounter could change a life?
You were the sunlight, after the rain fell
leaving me defenseless. Makes no sense at all. ..
So, how to explain it? A spell, that is nameless
Nothing will ever be the same
~
How can it be? Can this be really happening?
Or is it just a dream?……
A chance encounter, that fate designed for me?....
But now, I'm floating on a cloud
~
Unlikely strangers, after the thunder,
waiting for traffic, to let us move on
Then came the static, something like magic
flashed to light the afternoon
___
There was a rainbow, on the horizon
rising against the blue, a sign to tell me
Spellbound, I'm flying, ... I'm realizing
suddenly my world is something new!
I've found tomorrow, standing at the corner,
under a stoplight, and after rain fell
There at the crosswalk, lost in crossfire…
Dare I hope you felt it too?
~
Now everyday, we cross paths at the corner, and
I've seen you come, and go …….
I'm left to wonder, do you know?
And could you feel the same way that I do?
What are the chances, someday on that corner
you'll take my hand, and know that it's forever?
With recognition, divine intervention
We'll never walk alone again….... again…………again….
………………………………………………………………..
Lyrics for music written by Kevin Kern "Chance Encounter"
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Y1hDSBlvkU)
Inspired by the contest: "Fun With Lyrics"
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
2/5/18
What is the taste of happiness, ask the trees rooted in tale,
And the wind brings on southern wings answers hidden in crests.
Is it sweet, like golden apples from immortal orchards,
Or bitter, like the wine from cups of kings long gone?
Its color lies hidden in the palette of shy dawns,
Or perhaps it hides in the venom of fiery, impassioned nights.
Does it shine, golden, in fragments of azure dreams,
Or is a soothing blue, reflected in the lake without its match?
A fascinating weave, on the loom of the fleeting moment,
Happiness paints itself in unsettled hues, ever-changing.
Like the dew on the soul of a flower opening at dawn,
Or the tearing pain of a leaf lost in the autumn wind?
Like the whispers of the forest, which knows the world's ancient secrets,
It speaks in the language of falling stars and moonless nights.
Happiness charges the air with the magic of an earthly echo—
A song of simplicity, rising and getting lost among the clouds.
Beyond our sphere, jade rivers murmur, bathing dozens of worlds,
Happiness flows, leaving its imprint in the heart of every speck of stardust.
We must drink it thirstily, as an elixir of eternity,
Just as leaves absorb their fate alongside the sunlight.
The taste of happiness, a corolla blooming at the end of consecrated roads,
Sprouts from depths, seeking light, shyly unfolds.
Its color is a mosaic stretched across the sky, from sunsets to dawns.
A silvery droplet in the ocean of blue—a dance of freedom.
In every story born from the hand of a dreamer,
Happiness vibrates in unison with the heart of the world, on a celestial harp.
We only understand it when silence wraps us in its heavenly cloak,
And in the sacred quiet, the taste and color of happiness are revealed.
Most would be aware of many a herbal tea
Now select: lemon grass, liquorice, dandelion or nettle, peppermint and jasmine
Perhaps there exists one that does not evoke familiarity
Chose some seeds, a trailing legume, when matured
provides the soil with a welcome nitrogenous fix
For diversity of colour, height or width
many other seeds are added to the mix
Now this leguminous unfamiliar plant , common name, butterfly pea
exudes several properties when it is fully grown
Flowers for a herbal tea, when dried, utilised as a food dye
the whole plant edible, the uses for many years in Asia have been known
Revered in India, regarded as a sacred plant, ward off negativity
add resilience, wisdom and divine feminine power
Much more than just a legume
feeling blessed to be cultivating this beautiful creeping flower
Add to fascination, these flowers behave like litmus paper
when petals are soaked, pure water becomes an alkaline colour blue
Add some lemon juice
and the blue will change to an acidic reddish hue
Once again must continue to write about this flower
with colour, such a brilliant blue, a bit similar to the chia
And such distinctive SHAPE !!! gives rise, may make a woman smile
to its botanical name: CLITORIA ternatea
In need of being loved.
Whispering bitter blues, unaware of happy faces;
Life wrapped up in bubble wrap is a caged way to live.
Tongue torn from my mouth; words without fire are wasted.
So have my soul and all I own, because all I have to give is apathy.
I am without passion, so my true thoughts sound false.
All I can say is give me a chance
And you might help me to find my voice.
As I walk along in my little red hoody, I am surrounded by wolves.
As I escape in my Mini Metro, I wish that it could be a Rolls Royce.
But I have forever been a poor boy in a mad man’s creation;
Money is so necessary to become, that I will never be.
As I wave goodbye to my youth, I am in need of inspiration.
I am lost in a shadow of the man I once was and nothing is ever free.
If I promise to change, you would no longer listen,
Because you have heard my words before, so you will know that I lie.
I could tell you with age I will no longer be missing,
But will I still be here in the front of your mind, in the morning light?
Feet rammed into the ground, I cannot be moved,
Unless I hear you say something truly spoken from the heart.
If I could be anything, then I would be just like you,
Because you are capable of doing anything and I love all that you are.
A fingertip away from grabbing my destiny;
I dive into your arms and hope you will catch me.
A bolt from the blue, a memory as a matter of fact;
Your love is worth fighting for, so I will swear this pact…
You and I until the end of time…
Break my heart or love me truly.
The choice is yours, the hope is mine.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I love the color blue I can’t say enough about it.
The color of my favorite fruit, blueberries; is simply sublime.
When I play the blues on my guitar
I am never blue but, elated;
the Blues just do that for me.
Blue beckons to me when I’m tired and
lulls me to sleep in its soft, cool pool.
Like the bluest of oceans, lures the winging seagull;
blue waters lure and entrance me with their majesty.
Though my blood is not blue, blue pours through my veins, calming my fevers and raging mind. Tranquility is mine when I meditate in the blue of heavenly light.
When I paint, I can mix a million shades of blue; a blue painting is sheer ecstasy; a place for my spirit to revel.
Why, even my old dog, Blue...loves blue!
Organizing the poems I have thought about organizing for two years
Finally have the time to do it. Feel grateful; did not think it would happen.
Outlined a mural from the kitchen to the last bedroom.
Dragon, kings, castles, queens, faeries, elves, brownies, cats.
Doing the things I thought I would do upon retirement before retirement
Still have the energy for it, and glad that I do as I fish stuff out from under beds
Some of these items have been there for twelve years; I thought it would be fourteen
Not fourteen now, as I begin to throw them all into a garbage pile.
If I have not used them for twelve years why would I need to keep them?
If a critter gets into the house through a dog door, it will be more difficult to hide.
Painting the white bathroom blue, a dream of mine for the past five years.
For five summers I have thought I would do it. Now I have.
Sorting online photos into files, so I can more easily find them.
Always thought of doing it; now I have the time.
Spending an hour a day writing poetry; a luxury I am loving.
Cuddling with a dog and cat who love it. A new hobby.
Keeping in touch with my friends via Zoom and Face Time.
Made my own U-tube channel where I have posted six videos.
I never knew how to make a video before this pandemic.
Now I do not know how to stop making videos!
One made of Bonn china, somehow, gets a great attraction,
In steel and glass and plastic and bronze... lo, how many forms!
There's a creative artistic beauty in each faction,
Indeed, the craftsmen, in mind and heart, have their unique norms...!
I had one made of glass, in sky blue, a few years ago,
I had saved it like an antique valuable for long;
One day, lo, an absent-minded carelessness I did show,
I dropped it and broke; how long had I regretted my wrong...!
Jugs I have, now, a few in brass, steel, and Bonn china,
I consider them precious and see to their protection;
Yet, when I hold any of these a thought like angina,
Enters my heart and digs out my old buried dejection...!
As Images of God, humans continue the creation,
A jug too, like other gifts, can bring inner elation...!!!
It was last call, and all, he contemplated
Was should I stay here, or leave this old world
When out of the blue, a stranger he knew
Said Gary go home, to your little girl
Do I know you there mister, what's your name
Please go now, I don't want company
Hey barkeep can you please tell this man
It'd be best if He decided to leave
He turned to look again but there was no one
Gary you should go sleep in your car
I'm not sure who you've seen, it's just you and me
The night Jesus entered the bar
You can't get to Heaven from a barstool
Or find the Spirit, in the whiskey or rye
One soul was saved, one life was changed
The night Jesus entered the bar
At that moment in his life, he found meaning
How'd that stranger know who I am
Gone were the days, the war memories plagued
And he's no longer, stuck in Vietnam
To this day if asked, he will tell you
He saw a man, he can clearly describe
Somehow he knew he'd met Jesus
And he went cold turkey that night
The night that Jesus entered the bar
His soul found redemption, and so did his heart
It ain't often that a man, gets a new start
The night Jesus entered the bar
There's no place He won't go, to help save a lost soul
The night that Jesus entered the bar....
Written: July 24, 2025, for contest sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
********************
*Tingly skies full of surprise oh how I love when with surmise,* *the little rascal aims his dart as if it were, poetic art!*
Through velvet dusk, his silence cascades, as nectar from a flame, eclipses serenade!
Where shadows intertwine with twilight grin, and the golden hour dons a seraph's skin!
With an elfin purpose, he weaves the stars together in a rhythmic pulse!
Weaving a quilt with celestial stigmata, every sigh morphs into a veiled sonata!
And every wave carries a soaring voodoo, and features stories steeped in occult vampires and hoodoo!
Embers of thirst twist and twirl, sculpting the stillness into a dulcet layout of pearl!
Under the moon's persuasive weight, sanity dances into the embrace of rose-bound kismet fit!
A grin, a glance—a world reborn, eclipsed by dreams we dare not outrun!
Each heartbeat held beneath amber blue, a whisper elegantly woven in déjà vu!
And as the winds of will fall slow, and reason slips into a lover's shoe !—
*When Cupid's arrow aims for you, there isn't much that you can do !*