Long Calm Poems
Long Calm Poems. Below are the most popular long Calm by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Calm poems by poem length and keyword.
Sponsor: L. Milton Hankin
5/4/22
'MY DREAM VACATION'
Stunning, amazing, outstanding view!
Bright sunny sky,
The sea such a beautiful blue.
Walking barefoot, feeling the softness of sand,
With a gentle breeze,
There's such beauty on this land.
Boats sailing,
Surfers galore,
People having fun!
I pick up shells on the shore.
Clean fresh air,
Not a car in sight,
Peaceful, calm and such a delight.
A gentle stroll along the sea,
Splashing quietly against my toes,
There's no better place to be.
Enjoy the peace and tranquility,
It feels special,
It's for everyone to see.
We should appreciate the beauty around,
Days go so quickly,
We have all found.
For now this vacation is all in my head,
But hopefully soon, we will all be together,
It will be reality instead!
Everybody has their own brand of storm
they come in many shapes and sizes
some are like force 10 gales so ever strong
while others are tornadoes as they rise
In all my life one was continual
the storm of saying any word
tension-filled full my throat
finding calm completely absurd
The vocal chords were always strained
every situation brought a new trial
this stammer of mine was a real pain
one couldn't even rub it like a file
People in authority caused me grief
whenever meeting one made me fear
this deeply gripped me so very hard
hated this, so much brought inward tear
As years go on one learns to cope
but still anxious at the very thought
these are real storms with real waves
soaked so wet can't find a dry spot
(Telling the main storm in my life and its impact.)
I love to be saturated
in the bliss of deep and total silence
I like it to wrap around me
like a rich velvet cloak
heavy and comforting
filling me with calm and peace
oh, I like to withdraw into stillness
and drown in waves of quietness
but, I know beyond my hushed realm
there is the roar of life
and I need only step into it
to break the spell
oh, I need this lull
so that my mind can speak
for it is when utterly alone and apart
that I can hear the whispering
and all the cobwebs in the corridors
of my mind can be
swept away
____________________
June 14, 2021
Poetry/Verse/quietus
Copyright Protected, ID 06-1363-396-14
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, All Yours (Jun 15)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 06/15/2021
First Place
Love was once a wild fire, a living flame igniting every touch with the brightness of night,
We spoke in warmth, in whispered desires, with hearts beating wildly and hands tracing the fire’s path,
But love is not meant to remain a flame, not a spark that burns and flickers always the same,
It softens, deepens, learns to stay—not just in longing, but in the gentle flow of daylight.
It changes in silence, rewrites itself in darkness, a smoldering ember where once was a vivid spark,
It is not less—it is not lost, but tempered by time, by trust, by the price of shared love,
Now love is steadfast, an enduring warmth, woven into laughter, gentle gestures, words,
It’s your hand on my back as I walk by, the gaze that lingers, the silence that lasts endlessly.
It’s the coffee waiting before I wake, a blanket pulled close for the soul’s comfort,
It’s the sound of my name, not urgent, not wild, but spoken with care, with years reconciled and calm,
Desire may fade, but devotion remains, engraved in rhythms, in sweet and soft refrains,
Intimacy changes, but never leaves, trust remains, in hearts well-known.
Love is not less because it burns lower—it is richer, fuller, more certain to grow,
Not the fire of then, but the foundation of now, not the spark, but the glow that remains eternal and warm.
The view from my window is eternal,
Same dormant volcanic hills,
Same Alpine Forest overlooking the calm bay,
Only the changing weather leaves its mark in my garden.
Spring daffodils and Tulips are long gone,
Pansies and petunias are still showing their colors in late summer,
Cherry tree gave us plenty of red and blue fruits,
The apples are fighting to stay on the limbs.
The visual pleasures I get a lot,
They are only eye lid deep,
I am searching for pleasure heart deep,
In my solitary senior retired life.
I hear the playful laughter of children outside,
I see my grand kid’s laughter on phone once a while,
I hear the voices of my kids from far and near,
This mental and physical view, best view from my heart’s window.
I sit at the end of the wooden pier near the river's edge,
my feet splashing the blue mirrored hedge
watching the swirls on the depthless water.
In my hand a wild spray of dandelions, tiger lilies, bearberries
and parchment. Cool current veers unhindered away from the ledge
by nature's land; behind the trees where elves, pixies, and fairies
dwell upon green blade of the herbal sweet sedge.
Dip in freckle orange tiger lily crinkle hats and veg
flitting around from tree to tree, peer beautiful sensual pixies.
In the calm melody of dance all trim in fluff and buff fairies
in their yellow dandelion bellow skirts and soft chicks fledge.
The old Elf poet sings and reaches for parchment and ink bearberry bushes.
In and out the bees, butterflies, and hummingbird flutter
to savor the nectar from the chalice of fragrance of flowers.
The brilliant sunshine finds its way behind the trees and shudders.
Sleepy, I rose and walked home to the river's edge.
5/15/2018
© 2010 (Jim Sularz)
Heave Ho! Aweigh, the ship’s anchor,
Lads, climb-up, the tall ship’s masts!
Unfurl the sails white billowed,
all pray, the stiff trade winds blast!
Men briny from white-capped oceans,
Terra firma’s, a distant quest.
Feel the salt spray, stinging the faces,
of the ship’s crew, tossed fore and aft.
We’re compelled to sail the oceans an’ seas,
with a plumb compass an’ a ration’s tack.
Tattoos an’ a gypsy squeeze-box melody,
the gale blows on our ruddy backs.
All hands scramble, to assemble on deck,
for the Captain rings-hard a muster.
Churning waves in our rudder’s wake,
luminous, with a strange glowing luster.
Land Ho! A calm, deep harbor,
a smoke filled pub an’ a bonny lass.
But the sea’s, our only steadfast lover,
an’ she beckons, to call us back.
We stand proud to call ourselves - mariners,
Men without fear, we tame the high seas.
Bright stars as our comforting beacons,
fair weather with God’s given speed.
By moon beams an’ dawn’s faint daylight,
we’ll turn our ship’s namesake back.
Heave Ho! Aweigh, the ship’s anchor,
Lads, climb-up, the tall ship’s masts!
People find 150 million thousand reasons to go to Walmart… me too.
Sometimes, I just go just to go and at times I find myself going because I want to, not because I need to.
Today, I was about to go to Walmart, got dress, went down two steps and then went back inside. I changed my mind and my clothes. I decided to go on my “Peace Walk” with God instead. I put on my exercise shorts and went on my way.
After talking, praying, singing hymns, spending quiet time with God and giving God praise, I embraced the moment.
I laid in silence along the isolated road with feet crossed and hand stretched out above my head just staring up at the big, blue, clear sky as the sun beamed ever so brightly, glowing upon my golden, brown skin, just enjoying the simple pleasures of life.
Yes, God’s creation… me, the blue skies, the birds, the breeze, the trees, the sun, the stillness and the quietness.
No cars, no people, no problems, no noise, no traffic, no emails, no cell phone, no hustles and bustles of the world.
Just me, God, peace, calm and serenity.
During this time with God, I relaxed, repented and released and God refreshed, renewed and restored.
Getting the renewing, refreshing and restoring of the mind, body, spirit and soul Yeah... that was better than going to Walmart.
Written: September 29, 2023
_________________________________________________________
Silence has an inherent sense of fame.
stance that orates itself without a name.
Before the earth was claimed by sound,
Silence knew it would inherit all around.
Perched on a wall, a cat decries stardom.
Amid the birds in the gazebo or a dogdom
Its sleep is both intriguing and delightful.
Those who bear vigil from dawn to nightfall
During a brief time, a tear acquires fame.
On the cheek where the soft grasp came
It elicits emotion, both optimism and pain.
And it provides a mark that will not wane.
A twisted snapshot, a treasure kept close
It decries fame in the echoes it evokes.
It's a prized gift for the one who bears it.
Yet it is left behind by the one who depicts
In shopping queues and on congested streets.
Where smiling dwindles, memories fleet.
I wish to be dubbed the one who smiles back.
Sending light to those whose souls were black.
akin to a pulley, calm to recur but widely admired.
Or a buttonhole that draws a garment desired.
I don't care to be famous for my opulence or show.
But there are a few traits that I will never outgrow.
In the lost seconds, where beauty hides.
Where mirth and trust in peace reside
I aspire to be a light in the darkest night.
And introduce a smile to everyone's sight.
May it not be uttered and may my lips be sealed. I don't like how it makes me feel. It gives no thrill. It has no appeal. So often, it does not heal and seldom closes the deal. Early this morning, I took the time to record a few lines of muse about a word I don't like to use.
I have often thought about the people I have met and the places I have roamed and made my home over the last 50 years. Many are the things, people, and places that have proven to be most disappointing and have wearied, worn me out, and caused me doubts. There've Been dejections, rejections, and questions, but as I look back, I see no regrets.
I have used a 7-letter word so often that it has become a dreadful thing to consider its usefulness. I should think that heaven is the only place such a word is forever forbidden. Presently, that word is NOT WHAT I'M SAYING to you, you, or anyone else and hope to never find it necessary. But if by chance or providence it should be used relative to anyon9 Ie, it would be among the hardest words I ever uttered to living mortals. I've been as far east as the Big Apple but not to stay; and forty years ago, I came with my wife and kids to live in the City by the Bay. I hasten to say that I've never lived longer nor loved stronger than here in the River City where I only want to say the the 2 lettered word 'Hi' but never the 7 lettered
woord, "Goodbye". I can say "Hi" with a smile, but "Goodbye" only makes me cry.
People say that home is where your story begins, but I've never been one to be bound by what others might say. I only know that the place where I was born was never home to me. I tell you, I did not have to look long and far nor think Hard and deep to figure out whom I might blame for the calm, peace, and poise that I am feeling where I live today. Yes, there is something very special about the people and this place where I'm living today that feels like home to me, and I suspect that The Lord has everything to do with it.
042620PS