Long Cerise Poems
Long Cerise Poems. Below are the most popular long Cerise by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cerise poems by poem length and keyword.
The golden hour for rising has arrived, and there are violet roses in the sky,
So, I bid hello to you, my robust friend, as the vibrant, cerise birds float by.
The obsidian night, it was very long, and was filled with pleasant dreaming,
Like scenes from the heart of jade forests, where lush nature is screaming.
But the dark hours seem as ages past, since you have risen on the horizon,
Reflecting your glory in the limpid waters, as day slowly begins to brighten.
So nice to see you again, my old friend, peering in the doors and windows,
As beautiful songs from emerald trees, begin their daily, rapid crescendos.
Soon all the world will be colorful and glad, like skyward birthday balloons,
Drifting on backlit skies of somewhere, like the aromas of various blooms!
We've traveled a long way, you and I, and like orioles, we've gone together,
Screaming our joys at midday hour, as warmth blankets the divers weather.
You trail every individual, peach dawn to dusk, and from season to season,
Forever going in and out of our lives, silently, and without apparent reason.
My work as a seasonal park ranger, has kept me in the glitter of your gaze,
As gorgeous wildflowers pursue us all, down the myriad, natural pathways.
Living with my family and my cat, and having a happy life on Pretty Street,
We danced all through deep amber days, terribly soon to become obsolete.
And often enjoyed memorable outings, birthday parties, and get togethers,
Like the euphoria of your floral days, are inclined to following predecessors.
Days at the beach, days at the park, ballgames or fun backyard barbecues,
At the happiest of times, everyplace I look, the first thing that I see is you.
And in olden, golden days, when I played on and on, your warmth was felt,
Like the presence of bittersweet autumn rose, though unseen, lately smelt!
Sweet summer evenings, you gazed redly, to say your melancholy goodbye,
Like the redness that strangely appears, when you're trying hard not to cry.
Crickets in the lilac bush, butterflies in the grass, all smile to greet the sun,
And yellow days are started and soon done, in dreamlike, skyward visions!
Flowers titter in warm, fragrant meadows, and oceans shudder with delight,
People beam at your kind warmth, and robins sing once they see your light!
The corners of his pink lips bow into a grin that sent a spark to burst into colors in the dark hole of a heart I had. He lit me up like a lantern on the dark, gloomy path to forever. Blissly in love I had fallen for him, yet so dangerously in love I had fallen to him. His name indefinitely glued to the tip of my tongue no matter what.
A butterfly named Happiness used my heart as a trampoline when he was around. My life had been painted in the vibrancy of cerise. As rich as the scarlet that dripped through the veins of fresh roses.
My insides were clogged with the thought of him, him, him and him. Did I forget to mention him? I did? Him. There seemed to be no more room for other thoughts, why have I feel so love with him? He radiated all the colors of the rainbow, and I was addicted to tasting them. He loved to bring me a new bouquet of happiness everytime we met. I had been inprisoned with the thought of him.
Like the layers of a deep ocean, was my heart. So deep light couldn't penetrate. But how did he manage?
Like a moth to a flame I was captured by the joy he brung with his precense. His hair streaked with tones of light chestnut and strands of platinum. His eyes which would form angelic crecents with his illusorily magnificent smiles. I remembered him all the way down to the deliciously scrumptious aroma that kissed my nostrils everytime he embraced me.
"I love you." He told me everytime saw me.
I love him, "he's gone."
No; but I love him, "he's gone."
I will always love him, "he's gone."
Every since the death of him, My mind and I fought every night with a battle I liked to call Sanity. Sanity was mine, but my mind didn't think so. Sanity kept me alive, but my mind didnt think so.
This particular night, my mind has won the battle and celebrated the victory with an overdose on morphine. It celebrated the victory all the way through my veins to the cavernous ribcage that embraced my heart, all the way through my bloodstream until I kissed breath goodbye.
//Im just practicing my creativity, don't mind me.//
Form:
Sponsor : Justin Bordner
WHERE LOVE LEARNS NO MORE
Where Love learns no more
two serpents crawling twine
one midnight black another
luminous wizardy white
entangled fanged bedazzled
circled by ultra violet rays
ultra red Sun the One
swimming in beet orange
mint mix elixir eclipsed
quiver quenches wreathing
writhing thirst as cerise
petals silently fall, crumble
dust to dust
Here howls no blackboards or
whiteboards no koki pens
pencils erasers or paint
no school bells ring
no Buddha
gongs neither singing bowls
no teachers gurus masters
or internet, memory, miles
history or futuristic dreams
nor Rumi poetic recitals
or even Gabriel’s angelic
harmonic frequencies
In deafening silence they
slither slide thrust open
skin on skin shedding
translucent spirals spinning
black imbibes white aglow
glistening melting moments
all else dissipates
two serpents exits explore
where Love has nothing to
learn but adore
God appeased appear
emits lochia, soar
observe serumed gyrations
entice enchanting narration
they remain darkly sage
silent shimmering sop
slippery slip illustrious dip
into hidden slivered
silver cords hanging
themselves naked new
wheeled throats bleed askew
Then from vulnerable bellies
delicate moths emerge
flutter one by one
become butterflies flit
making mauve milk
pixel pinprick serpent
eyes lightning shoot
first branches of
Tree of Life moot ~
an ethereal nightingale
tinkled appears, trialed
trigger timed
two serpentines transmute
into dancing flames free
stepping out of shadows
into silvery sematic glee
grace winged they disappear
into hymning hyacinth
Sky outlined in gilded
lyrical lore divine
In beckoning belly of Creation
L o v e has
n o t h i n g
to learn
The sky beckons me open these eyes and we do
The owl and I
We turn our gaze unblinking to the sky,
The heavens above and together we see
We see as two the clouds are touched with cerise,
Sighing into deeper hues until they merge
Merge with the water drained cerulean tiredness of those many underbellies as if
As if the fresh colour can soothe the storm resting within.
The skies breathe down cool air, crisp . . . and clear
It touches everything
With something more than just life,
Carries with it the promise of tomorrow,
The foreshadowing of nature’s style awakening after the long winter’s cooling embrace.
As if she can barely contain her urge to scream
Scream out in freedom
As if she can barely contain her cries of stretching
Stretching out toes and fingers
Revelling in the these her first movements that bring
Bring forth the blooming promise
Whispered in the sky of summer’s raining sheaths of tresses caressing
Caressing this hungry earth.
With all the tired souls falling rapt by the newly forgotten tears
Tears still lingering in the lightly licking touches of grass yawning from sleep.
Yawning from sleep.
Beneath the timid warmth of our stretched out toes
When our souls are tickled
Tickled by the dew dropped eyelashes of the earth.
And . . .
And as always the moonset vanishes for this first kiss is only false
One like the first rays of dusk across the night swept sky and lands lingering
Lingering beneath the moon’s subtle glow,
That false dawn with all its memories intact of yesteryear.
Where once walked the souls of children undreamed
When we were young in the expanse of this our home
When the dirt beneath our bare feet was still untouched by time
And this
This is what I see in the sighing
Sighing of the midnight star.
Form:
You didn’t leave me in the past,
Where faded memories were dark, shadows
Breaking through my peace, rhythms
Raining like echoes from the long-ago,
Erasing the beautiful, the joy and hope
The promises of wonderful, in hues
So brilliant, like the laughter of a lavender
Bloom, the music in cobalt blues,
The blush, trembling in whispery cerise,
Glowing magnificence – promises
From the dewlike blessings, falling
From heaven – in stunning hues – singing
To the past of a gorgeous that has come,
Shyly wiping away the tears of yesterday
With silent breath, gasping for truth
Trusting in the One who shines, brighter
Than the sun. He is the Son, the love,
The beautiful in every color, the miracle
In every dream, the lesson in every need,
The feeling beyond any affection…
He is the One who makes a way through the past,
Through the pain and the failure, the flaws
That makes us human and more damaged than
We care to admit – more broken than we can express,
More defective and insufficient, more weak and frail
Than our description of humanity – without Him,
The One who makes a way beyond the deficiency
The humanness, the limitations of our own abilities…
Because He knows us better than we know us,
Because He loves us more than we love us,
Because He abides with us – when we’re lost
Because He is love that silences the broken heart
Because He is the answer to every prayer spoken
Because He is the Savior, the Peace, the Hope
Because He knows us and longs to show us…
The way out of the past, out of the pain, out of the doubt…
We have a chance to reach out, in faith, with the assurance
That our sincere belief in this Jesus, His grace – we can
Sincerely say… HE saves! Oh, yes… HE SAVES!!!
Hello, September!
We meet ~
with crimson-tinged golden-fringed excitement,
let's rendezvous with an enthralling rhapsody anew!!
paths are strewn with puce,
tangerine, cerise, orange leaves...
swirling, twirling, whirling intoxicated under the sapphire sky -
luring us gambol in a fairyland of colours!
fall’s magical show!
sheer beauty of red and gold leaves swooshing about ~
watch the clouds dizzily dreamy in a champagne light,
watch with nostalgic wistfulness canada geese returning -
a graceful fascinating formation in the sky!
butterflies seductively kissing
bewitching flowers under a luminous sun,
watch robin enticingly singing
luscious summer’s farewell song !
a decoupage of kaleidoscopic hues -
red, golden, amber leaves waltzing down ~
triumphant summer leaves letting
mysterious autumn dazzle the world !
Hello September!
September 14, 2021
THIRD PLACE
For " Hello September" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
A Brian Strand Freed Verse Poetry Contest
Neither puppy love nor lust, each insists
in its imperfect play. Their hearts resist
both by clinging in its barbaric way.
Youth forgiven. The wolf begs her to stay.
But a commitment is made in marriage.
It is not found in a baby carriage.
What do we know of love - it’s not first sight.
It is the highs and lows - bond holds on tight.
Love’s patient, kind, not selfish nor boastful.
It’s the making of memories - joyful.
To let go of bitterness’ a decision.
Poof like magic, the wrongs are forgiven.
Black and blues, the stumbles and falls, gets up
on the horse - believers climb to the top.
~
Now what of those years, of the worse decrease?
Does the sorrow make the better cerise?
Does the white-gowned wife, handsome groom resume
as if the bond is pruned, roses in bloom?
Yes, the rivulets of tears reverent.
The jubilee melody resonant.
When love is stirred with sugar and nettles,
sorrow’d years melt. Felicitous petals
land on silver hair and wrinkles. O God!
Yes, three cords complete and restore the flawed.
Love protects, hopes, perseveres in trials.
The truth of a lifetime's years in their smiles.
Shakespeare regales Summer’s hot gaze, short days.
Yet love stoked in the Winter’s hearth - O blaze!
1/30/2021
What Is Love
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Hybronnet is similar to a sonnet, can have a variable rhyme scheme,
does not have to be iambic meter. The poet is given liberty to choose how to structure the rhyme of the Hybronnet poem into a combination of rhymes be it slant, feminine, masculine, etc. or apply it in any design deemed appropriate
I gaze at the approaching thunderstorm
and inhale the earthly scent of rainstorm
Her tears
as spears
is like a million blows on human fears
I ponder awhile beneath the lit-up sky
then words start rolling & a prayer is sent up high
I wish for peace
for all fighting to cease
and then the sky beckons with shades of cerise
I loose the heart and soul on mankind
it's easy to lose faith without God's sign
When lost
we toss
the beauty of his creation for lust and greed
Then I witness the miracles of life stories
coincidences that appear and save lives
His wisdom
for our kingdom
is unfathomable for our limited visions
If only we can soar with his visions
Like an eagle on a wind's rhythm!
A mirror response to Mystic Rose's poem below:
I watch the splendor of a shooting star
and breathe the beauty of a hum-guitar
Her light
in flight
is like a million lanterns on a cooling night
I dream awhile beneath the tarp of heaven
then close my eyes & slowly count to seven
I wish in true
for souls renew
and soon I’m covered in night’s dew
I loose the mind and pry his realm
it`s an expedience of God’s mystic dream
When free
I see
the beauty of his creation for all eternity
I watch the splendor of a bird in flight
and breathe the beauty of a blessed night
His wings
they sing
to me of freedom, and all a night can bring;
If only we can learn to sing
Like a Cardinal on a string!
Written by: Mystic Rose
June 24, 2015
In depth of woods how autumn dazzles, swirling beauty of ornate décor,
Waltzing with ochre hickory, birch; whirling flaxen moods of sycamore,
Gracing my view upon blazing foothills, where vistas gamboge scroll,
Bedecking maples, swaying rhythms, with fiery red of shimmying knoll.
Zephyrs of west rustle demeanor of black tupelo, fluttering leaves gold,
Glistening burnt orange of sugar maple, revelers in sundown behold,
As remnants of gilded twilight beams, glimmer in purpled afterglow,
Weaving motifs of fall in tapestries idyllic, of blushing eventide aglow.
Autumn’s grandeur glows, as crisp frost gleams, mellowing overcast days,
Where gelid winds shudder trees, foretelling imminent wintry malaise,
Meandering with leaves falling gently; carpeting dyed, chromatic meadows,
As the arena of fall’s resplendent show, shimmers in elongated shadows.
Harvest Moon enamors sights, appealing to fervor of romantic glance,
Enthralled watching dance of stars, attuned to tenor of cosmic expanse,
Gliding over a charming night, wooing souls glued to autumn’s ruby fire,
Flaunting pizazz panoramic~ a farewell of fall-splendor, in cerise attire.
Turning life’s pages of albums, treasured memories rekindle seasons past,
Thankful for the abundance of goodwill~ heavenly blessings destiny cast;
As conversations savor aroma of pumpkin pies; buttery, nutty, apple tarts,
Spending time with family, friends; exchanging missives of kindred hearts.
Poem submitted to "Those We Love Poetry Contest," Mystic Rose, sponsor
ECHOES
I open the sewing basket, letting my eyes and hands run over the tools she had used—the scissors, the darning egg, the pinking shears, the pins, the tattered, tomato-shaped pincushion, and spools of thread. I gaze at the metal spool-shaped bobbins remembering how, as a small child, I flushed them down the toilet creating quite a ruckus. I finger her antique thimbles recalling her numb fingers and hands. Despite her diminishing eyesight, she quilts until her last day, painstakingly feeling the fabric, cutting the shapes, and hand stitching the pieces together silently suffering from the pricks and misery her needle sometimes inflicted. When tiny drops of cerise colored blood dripped from her fingers nary a tear emerges from her eyes.
I close the basket and walk through her sewing room, white silence enveloping it. The faceless dress form patiently waits for her return, an unfinished garment draped over its shoulders. The sewing machine sits idle, its motor no longer whirring and the needle no longer punching through the fabric with its steady, rhythmic chuka, chuka, chuka sound.
echoes pierce silence
sound of mother’s spirit
I know in my heart
*I published this poem in Poetry Soup in June 2025, then deleted it. This is my original poem, and I'm reposting because this poem is a special one for me.