Long Brazos Poems
Long Brazos Poems. Below are the most popular long Brazos by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Brazos poems by poem length and keyword.
VEN A MI ENCANTADOR Come To Me Lovely
Come to me lovely
Ah! ven a mí encantador;
Ven a mis fuertes brazos;
Da tu belleza, permíteme adorar;
Comparta su AMOR de Dios y más;
ven a mi adorable, ven cariño .. ven, ven a mi preciosa
Ah! ven a mí encantador;
Comparte conmigo tu amor;
Da de esas pasiones ahora;
eres más brillante que la luz de la luna de medianoche;
eres más ligero que el sol del mediodía;
evervesance, brillance brillas;
Oh, cómo me gustaría que seas mío;
ven a mí, ven a solo, ven ... ven, ven a mi preciosa Ah! ven a mí encantador;
Ven a mis fuertes brazos;
Da tu belleza, permíteme adorar;
¡Ay! Yo también iré a buscarte porque eres el amor que anhelaba;
ven a mí, ven a solo, ven ... ven, ven a mi preciosa
Come to me lovely
08/29/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
From anthology “A LOVE FOR YOU”
Te Extraño
Llegando aquí
No sabes lo que vi.
Al ver tú tumba
Fue amor lo que sentí.
Yo se que ya descansas
Y en los brazos de el estas,
Cantando alabanzas
Al fin encontrando paz.
Con todo mi corazón
Te extraño
Y se que es egoísmo
Que tu muerte me hace daño.
Le pido a Dios
Con toda mi alma
Que el cielo te de,
Y que a mi me mande calma.
Pues no hay mejores dos, tan merecidos
Como Padre y Madre.
Que en la tierra lo que hicieron
Fue amar a Dios y al mundo.
Sabiendo que es así
Le doy Gracias al Señor,
Que me los presto estar aquí
A inculcarme, que “Dios es AMOR”.
Por: Nena Enriquez
Lyrics to:
The Texas Poet Two Step
There won't be no Sun out on the Brazos
There won't be no rain in Abilene
I won't write a poem for Tom's contest
And Margaret Reid won't get a check from me
I'm tired of my poems lining trash cans
And see'in my money go to waste
And when that winners 'Click', has their party
It's like throw'in a can of 'Loser' in my face
chorus
Yes, I thought about the contest
I thought that I could win
But then, reality started sett'in in
I know I'd write with passion
Eloquence and grace
But in the end , I won't even place
So, I know what I'll do with all that money
I'll hold it in My hand and keep it near
And the day they claim to have their Contest Drawing
I'm buying sixteen dollars worth of beer.
chorus
Yes, I thought about the contest
I thought that I could win
But then, reality started sett'in in
I know I'd write with passion
Eloquence and grace
But in the end , I won't even place
Heeyah
FREEPORT RHAPSODY…
(Apropos A Visit Home )
Tired shrimp boats sit moored
along the muddy banks of the Brazos;
their day’s catch iced down and waiting.
Tormenting mosquitoes flew
from puddles of water
pooled between blades of salt grass,
feasting on the fresh blood
of buzzed home comers.
The aroma of seafood gumbo pots
saturated the salt water air; and the clinking
bottle caps signaled the gathering of keno players.
Olympian domino players slap their table tops
with rhythms that rival the best of Art Blakely’s
drumming on a full moon Afro Night.
Teams of bid whist players
played musical chairs.
Over chattering voices, echoes of howling dogs
faded into canine whimpers
as Gulf Coast breeze blew sweet memories:
Indeed there’s no place
like home.
Sage Saga Of A Home On A Hill
Having drank from the sun at meridian,
The moon drunk with the light
Of reflection, always dissipated dreaded darkness
Seeking to veil the Hill—Raised bump
Of nature’s glowing face;
This swollen womb of nature nourishing beginnings
Of generations plodding centuries wounded
With trials and tribulations—Grand Canyon invisible walls
Mocking the abyss of Middle Passage ocean depths
Carpeted with ivory bone trees rattled by circadian waves
Splashing stilled sandy sea shore stones sunken in time.
Beginnings begin with the eruption of sunlight;
Rays flowing lava-like to chloroplast genes
Of generations of quantum leaping Greens
Synthesizing seminal spirits spewing
Audacious faith—audacious faith blooming
Mushroom cloud determination rising
As a risen national family tree;
Branches thrusting tentacles forever upward.
Streaming through, flows a river Brazos
Whose residents often crawled, netted and hooked
Their way to the Hill—accepting all aching
To give or receive freely—nourishment.
A gumbo gathering of love supreme;
Charged sable soul soars—sailing
Pillow puffed verandah skies;
Stoking old horizons—searching
Mountain top promise land dreams.
Where I have been I have just begun to go;
Returning to the beginning—
To tap the toasted roots anchoring the journey’s
Design—etched beneath the shade of limbs
Of an ancient Chinaberry tree
Looking out over the Hill—
Shadowing shelled street that oysters built.
The senior poem now resonate an ebony perspective:
“…It’s sweet to dream of Venice…It’s great to think of Rome…
But when it comes to living…There’s no place like home…
So it’s home again and home again for me…”
My Hill—My home…My family tree. Here I grew; here I be.
Sage Saga Of A Home On A Hill
Having drank from the sun at meridian,
The moon drunk with the light
Of reflection, always dissipated dreaded darkness
Seeking to veil the Hill—Raised bump
Of nature’s glowing face;
This swollen womb of nature nourishing beginnings
Of generations plodding centuries wounded
With trials and tribulations—Grand Canyon invisible walls
Mocking the abyss of Middle Passage ocean depths
Carpeted with ivory bone trees rattled by circadian waves
Splashing stilled sandy sea shore stones sunken in time.
Beginnings begin with the eruption of sunlight;
Rays flowing lava-like to chloroplast genes
Of generations of quantum leaping Greens
Synthesizing seminal spirits spewing
Audacious faith—audacious faith blooming
Mushroom cloud determination rising
As a risen national family tree;
Branches thrusting tentacles forever upward.
Streaming through, flows a river Brazos
Whose residents often crawled, netted and hooked
Their way to the Hill—accepting all aching
To give or receive freely—nourishment.
A gumbo gathering of love supreme;
Charged sable soul soars—sailing
Pillow puffed verandah skies;
Stoking old horizons—searching
Mountain top promise land dreams.
Where I have been I have just begun to go;
Returning to the beginning—
To tap the toasted roots anchoring the journey’s
Design—etched beneath the shade of limbs
Of an ancient Chinaberry tree
Looking out over the Hill—
Shadowing shelled street that oysters built.
The senior poem now resonate an ebony perspective:
“…It’s sweet to dream of Venice…It’s great to think of Rome…
But when it comes to living…There’s no place like home…
So it’s home again and home again for me…”
My Hill—My home…My family tree. Here I grew; here I be.
compartir tu corazón;
Deseo ver el alma de tu espíritu en la luz;
Deseo ser solo tuyo, tuyo;
Abrazos abundantes por ti y por el Señor;
El cielo es un lugar justo;
Donde Dios controla con Su luz de gracia;
Ven conmigo;
Por siempre lo estaremos;
Liberado
Abrazado en brazos de Jesús;
I wish to share your heart;
I wish to see your spirit's soul in the light;
I wish to be just yours, yours;
Abundantly embraces by you and the Lord;
Heaven is just our place;
Where God controls with His light of grace;
Come with me;
Forever we'll be;
Freed
Caught up-embraced in Jesus arms;
6/23/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
From the anthology" For the Love of the Father”
Madre Nueva
Una jovencita tan más Hermosa
Muy humilde e inocente
Que con amor se cree cualquier cosa
Sin saber qué mala es la gente
Qué más quisiera yo
Que enseñarle de la vida
Para que no caiga hoy
En otra trampa y con su vida siga
Ahora mujer ya eres
Y te espera una vida llena
Que con tu niño que esperes
Siempre encuentres felicidad eterna
Un bebe es una bendición
De Dios omnipotente
Que con agrado te ha mandado
Este niño tan inocente
Tu veras que bonito es
Tener un hijo
Pues el amor que tu le des
Lo sentirás en tu corazón muy fijo
Y así como tú le ames
El te amara igual
Pues cuando tu le llames
Con amor te lo volverá
Felicidades madre nueva
Y que Diosito te bendiga
Pues se que serás una madre buena
Y que tus brazos a ese niño abrigues
Con mucho amor y felicidad
Por: Nena
Enríquez