Long Cherished Poems

Long Cherished Poems. Below are the most popular long Cherished by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cherished poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member An Amicable Parting

Our love was a mixture of dreams, 
joy and pain, they were not of equal 
parts.
Oh, but how they each tore the 
heartstrings apart,
Now, we are at the crossroads of 
parting ways,
So let’s admit to the World once more 
and say It’s just you and I.
There’s no need for tears to cascade
down our cheeks or bitter words to 
escape our lips in a sigh.

In this lifetime, we can only take a 
glimpse as we pass each other by,
And from time to time, maybe wave 
a hello or a goodbye,
I know the weight of our parting we 
cannot bear, even for a day,
But time and destiny say this is where 
we part, each going a separate way.

Our love from the past, we must not 
dishonour,
For in our hearts, our cherished love 
will be looking on, knowing it was a 
privilege and an honour,
Promises made, we must now forget,
The memories that we made, we 
shouldn’t ruin with thoughts of regret.

Like two ships passing in opposite 
directions, we will pass each other 
without taking that last never-ending 
embrace,
And with a mutual understanding, 
we have chosen an amicable parting, 
so let’s accept our fate with dignity 
and grace.
And as the sun sets on this chapter of 
our love story, let’s wish each other 
nothing but sheer delight,
Let’s fly high like an Eagle, with the 
wings that love gave us, and to support 
each other in fulfilling the rest of our 
dreams still within our sight.


by Zyrool


Premium Member Her Moon And Stars Danced The Night

New Voices Poetry Contest
Regina Mcintosh



She took him handly to her home
As her pleasures began to roam
Onto her bedroom she took flight
Her moon and stars danced the night

Under the covers of romance
Their wildfires began to advance
It spread and twisted all its might
Her moon and stars danced the night

She boxed her lover one by one
While their playgrounds cherished the fun
When the clock struck twelve she held tight
Her moon and stars danced the night

The legs of the night carried on
To a beautiful morning dawn
Their windows opened to the light
Her moon and stars danced the night
Form: Kyrielle

Premium Member God's Painted Canvas-

Innuendo where is cherished;
A bonding view that is carriage;
 I miss the wall one to fall;
Beautiful painted portrait;
Engulfed painted portion;
Beautiful righteous God's painted canvas;
My environment strong;
Waving branches in the air;
Breathing that's so fair;
Farming laser grass,
 growing as Paradise ;
The greenery what it means to me 
So soothing all flowers strong and tall;
And of all the scenery;
 What means more to me;
It's the hand that created all of these;
Right to sleep beautiful God's painted canvas;

9/30/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021

Premium Member A Festival of Faith

The cold air makes the snow squeak
under your feet, as you walk.
And a sky of twinkling stars
will guide Santa's sleigh this eve.

Children are snuggled in bed,
dreaming of Christmas morning.
And parents share smiles and hugs,
filled with the joy this night brings.

Eaves strung with colored lights,
houses decorate the night.
And Santa Claus gets airborne,
with the help of Rudolph's nose.

The air is filled with music
as Christmas carolers sing.
And neighbors greet each other
in a cheerful, friendly way.

We celebrate Jesus's birth,
in a most befitting way.
For giving away presents
reminds us all of His love.

Christmas is a time of cheer
that's felt on no other day.
And a festival of faith,
cherished by both young and old.


(Blank Verse)


12/9/2016

Premium Member Mom

Mom

I’m proud to be my mother’s son
Her last-born child, the youngest one
Her strength I draw with every breath
She fills my heart, long after death

Her kindness, loyalty and love will stay
She guides my path here every day
Her laugh and smiles were second to none
I’m full of pride for all she’s done

She filled my life with love and joy
I’ll always be, my Momma’s boy
Her memory I often share with others
She was loved and cherished, by me and my brothers

Grown up now with kids of my own
I’m thankful for the path I was shown
She gave me life and made me strong
In my heart, she will never be gone

Mother-Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Written: 9/18/2020
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Golden Memories

Another celebration,
                                          Life's triumphant!  
                                            Joy's - Elation.
                                          Amid happy sighs,
                                           Glowing smiles,
                                           Twinkling eyes;
                                           The sweetness
                                           Of this blessed
                                                 event
                                          To memory now,
                                          Sweet Moments
                                                 Spent.

                                          When days grow 
                                                  Cold,
                                        Cherished; Perished 
                                            Days of gold
                                            Warm heart,
                                              And mind,
                                            When times 
                                               Unkind.
                                         
                                          Reign memories
                                                    In,
                                            Amid the din.
                                             Relive again!
                                           Know Your Life's 
                                               Not lived
                                                In vain!
Form: Rhyme

Lifes Growing Joy Poem Within a Poem

*** Life’s Growing Joy Poem Within a Poem ***

My 70’s may be the decade
For reaching my pathway’s
Ends and Epiphanies: a service of ‘Lessons and Pains’

    — To help my growing….

For example, Truths that I heard repeatedly,
I now believe well enough to take
My spirit from Dreams to Actuality — metaphorically then —

    — I lean into the sky as a noteworthy Gnarly Tree…

Also a lesson such as,  ‘God lives within us,’ although 
It’s hard for me to understand why Our Holy God opts
To be threading through these rickety,

       — These creaking and oddly angling limbs….

Plus, like so many of the eternal, quite externally-wrought necesities 
Are thought to bring to us every happiness: from wealth or friends;
Or, all the sweet, easy hours of comfort soaking in starlight and sun,

    — Ignoring the wildly waving grass underneath…

The knowing of happines raises its cherished supports not from beyond,
But from within hearts treasuring freedom and wonder, 
Focussed on what is Other — in those moments when ego’s set aside —

    — While divinely coaxed roots of Joy, grow deeper, longer 
Through time, betwixt Heaven and Earth to blessedly radiate and thrive…


—————————————————————————————————————-
(c) 6/22/2023 sally young eslinger
Thanks be to God— 

  * (In the Episcopal Church, just before Christmas, there
is a service called “Lessons and Carols,” telling the story of the birth of Christ.
** Please note! This could be considered an “Experimental” Poem, because, in a 2nd read, following the dashes, there IS to be found a poem-within-a-poem.  Hope you enjoyed them both!  Hugs & blessings,  
sally

Premium Member From Loneliness To Linkages

From Loneliness to Linkages

                                  In the midst of a lonely night
                               With not a voice to greet the ear,
                                And not a human sign in sight,
                                   Seated at a familiar desk
                                With faint fingers on the lap-top
                               And a thoughtful mind not at rest,
                                   In the quietude of a room 
                                 I dare not ever call my own
                              I can hear my breath in the gloom,
                                The tick of the clock on the wall,
                                The rustling of the gentle winds
                               As they caress leaves that do fall
                                 As feathers on the lowly ground,
                               The sharp shrilling sounds of crickets
                                 And the quavering croaks of frogs
                                  From a nearby verdant thicket.

                                 From the loneliness of my room
                                I try to link up with the multitude
                              As I press down the keys of my laptop
                                  To create verses in deep solitude
                                And rhythms with or without rhymes
                                   In a freely structured version
                              Beyond the bounds of space and time
                               To convey my deep-seated emotions 
                                 Gathered in solitude and quietness,
                            Share my cherished thoughts and visions,
                              Impart images ingrained in my mind
                                 In the daily course of my lonely life
                                 To one and all who may wish to find,
                               In a bid to forge linkages with friends
                                    Beyond the range of the oceans
                            And bring down the loneliness to an end


Written by Krishnanand Guptar
18 February 2023
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member ABOUT A LETTER POST-SCRIPT

Thought I perhaps should let all my friends see,
How touched I was on finding this letter to me,
Found by mistake, after so many years,
I collapsed into buckets of tears,
A treasure bequeathed to me, was meant to be.




POST-SCRIPT:
As the writing is faint 
in the scan above I have typed it out 
for ease of legibility. 

Abu Ben Adhem

(poem by Hunt, James Henry Leigh)
                                    (1784-1859)

Has been translated in Greek by 
Dimitrios Stais (as per manuscript 
in possession of his son Panos Stais)

This small note is sent to
Jennifer Alan Hunt, the great 
grand-daughter of Dimitri
Stais.
Of course, poems of many other
authors of this "English Verse"
Oxford Book were translated
in Greek by Dimitris Stais,
but I simply make mention of
the one titled as above because
of the author's name. (HUNT)
May I express the
wish, dearest Jennifer, that
one of the future editions of
Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
comprise some of your cherished
poems.
                With lots of love 
                your gd father
                 Panos
        Athens 19th December 1968
Form: Limerick

Premium Member My Heart's Decree

I'm stealing a few moments from Father Time
to pen my thoughts on parchment pages.
I write of mirth we shared, sweet and sublime,
capturing it in recorded history of us for the ages.
As twilight broaches night, I write by candlelight,
scrawling thoughts that are roaming in my head... 
those refusing to remain in my heart.

Though frowns have furrowed our brows
and etched wrinkles and creases on our faces, 
we shared many more moments of laughter 
that made us cry tears in streams of joy 
rather than those wept in sorrow and sadness,
cherished memories of loving embraces.

There are things I could never find voice
to reveal. Perhaps, it's better that they
remained unspoken then. But I feel sure 
my eyes told you more than any spoken
words could have made any clearer.
If you could see my eyes as shadows fall,
you'd be aware of more than I could bear
to read the drop of your shoulders, 
and the rivulets shining on your cheeks 
as moonlight begins peeking in the window.

In reading this, you have my heart's decree
that my love never died, but was magnified 
year upon year with great depth of emotions.
And at its end, you'll find teardrop stains 
smearing the ink that would never run dry
if I continued writing, but my confession
is long enough. It's in your possession
in this dour darkness without a whisper 
I could offer in farewell, or one last embrace.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

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