Long Cherry Poems

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


Garden Dream

Garden Dream


Within this heart a sheltered loom
of woven thoughts in ribboned faire
Where marigolds sing melodies
a soft caress your flowing hair

As hummingbirds ignite your smile
upon a floating shade of blue
and cherry blossoms paint the sky
in nectar worn as sweet perfume

I open this, my chambered soul
so you may rest in perfect ease
Beneath an arbor’s shaded bliss
to linger on a fragrant breeze

For deep within this garden dream,
illumined by the sun above
I pray that you will stay awhile
to share these blooms of perfect love

Good morning Soupers
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Spring Sonata

Take me there, where the daffodils dance,
Preening with joy, flaunting nature’s art,
Where birds have assembled to watch
Sitting atop, prancing from tips of treetops,
Tuning lyrics of cherry blossom prompts,
Strumming rhythms of spring sonata
As crimson tulips, with lilies purple waltz,
To music of willows breezing with dawn
When sun breaks through haze of clouds;

Traversing over the mountains and valleys,
Over green prairies, burbling tributaries,
Besides garden of multicolored pansies,
Amid bell-shaped bluebells, red hyacinth,
Frolicking on meadows of wild blue Iris,
Rejoicing pink blossoms of magnolia trees,
Glistening verdant knolls, lush foothills.

Take me there, where rivers meet oceans, 
Merging the passions of fiery emotions
Riding with tides of romantic notions
Vying allure of love, emblazoning now;
Love that sustained in summer storms,
Love that survived through wintry wrath,
Love our souls extol, in spring’s warmth;

When I decipher your esoteric response
Where verses tender stem from my heart,
As day retreats humming nightingale’s song,
And eve’s dreams blush on magenta arc;
Take me there, my dear, where you are,
On the apex of love, on cusp of romance.

Premium Member Streets of Solitude not for contest

Being alone is an amethyst art
Gift to the soul searching dark
Mahogany moments 
Shaping reality despite chaos or peace

Pearl perception of reality red from
blood of dead dreams 
that will rise like a purple phoenix 
inside blue breast
Walking in spirit with ancient ancestors 
yet alone in the Streets of solitude 

Fire in eyes 
forgiving the lies 
of whimsical fairy tales 
That once spun hope 
Like a golden thread
Around amber head 

Ideals that float 
like glowing halo
Keeping character afloat 
Despite a sinking black hole
Left in the street to trap
Those who seem to nap
Sleep walking on the path

Sleeping Beauty is an example 
Fairytale of slumber sampled
By a cherry kiss on lips
Is to die for or to live
If Prince never comes 
what gives
rainbows inside to exist

Whether the field of forgiveness has been watered or not 
Be the rose that grows 
Through concrete streets with heart
Determined to thrive despite odds 
With a scent of salvation a street soldier for God

Premium Member Whistling In Meadows of Emerging Green

A new day of spring in cool breeze sprints 
As gentle winds glide with joy on their wings
Swaying gracefully from blossoming trees
Whistling in meadows of emerging green

Dawn welcomes me while rising up drizzling
Gathering in puddles and rushing in streams
Playing hide and seek with glimpses of sun
Roaming darkened vistas on cloudy horizon

As winter's end hears the call of my garden
Resurgence it sees of perennial vegetation
Dreaming of budding cherry blossom flowers
Blooming among lilacs, lavender and purple 

Happily you smile in exuberance that enlivens
Lakes and the rivers, and season's aspirations 
For you've heard the chatter of nesting birds
And buzz of honeybees relishing sweet nectar

When darkness cedes to golden bright sunrise
Mauve tinges soften the cobalt blue skyline
As sun's glow blushes in purview of your eyes
Scattering pink desires on fervid orange skies

March 28, 2019
Placed 1st: Strand choice N contest by Brian Strand
Form: Verse

Premium Member Where's Sam

Mary Davis dwelled on a fruit farm, adoring the company of animals.
Most beloved was sociable Sam, who made her giggle, like bubbles!

Whereas Mary was seven-years-old, Sam, her lamb, was still a baby,
Given to Mary by best neighbors, when they played in orange daisies.

Sam's white fleece was soft and fluffy, like a mound of feather pillows;
Like clouds of endless, turquoise skies, blown by breezes, into billows.

Sweet-natured Sam and Mary's bond, was special. Soon inseperable!
As one, they chased sun; like heaven seen, through rainbow's portal.

Friends found fanciful, skipping Mary, in the far-out days of fabulous,
Under butterscotch sun of fascination, soon cherry red, as an amulet.

Fabled days told a faceted story of time, in faddish phases of flowers;
As family finished delaying finally, visiting dreamy, dusk's lemon sours.

Sam was usually someplace to be seen, but sometimes he wandered;
And Mary sought him out-like privacy loving night, soon squandered.

The 'sapphire tower' bore rich blooms, as 'zebrina lifesaver' remedied;
And 'sundrops primroses' were lingering, as the silken breeze hurried.

'Bee passion' blooms generated hysteria, with the fragrance of fairies;
As summer saluted lovely 'queen's tears.' Some nomads never marry!

Mary was feeling ill one day. It soon passed, but she was late to class.
It grew later, as she looked for steady, silent Sam, in tall, green grass.

Sam was nowhere about, though they always walked to school together.
Soon worried Mary found the school in uproar, like redbirds of a feather!

Sam was running from the teacher, in the classroom of much disarray;
As the children screamed with laughter, loving the opportunity to play!

Laughing herself, Mary coaxed Sam over. Glad to find her, Sam obeyed.
The chuckling teacher allowed Mary to take him home, where he stayed.

That day became a topic of legend and lore. A song was written about it.
It soon grew old and beloved, like a starbound comet, swift as a rocket!

'Mary had a little lamb;
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.

It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.'
Form: Couplet


Premium Member CARNIVAL TOWN

My daddy, he gave me a silver dime
For to fetch him a bucket of cider.
My mama, she tended the laundry line,
With a big wicker basket beside her.

I took a hard left at the barber pole
And I walked past a drunk by the deli.
He was likely reliving his throw-away years
In some dark nightmare’s underbelly.

The Ferris wheel is frozen in place
By the exotic dancer’s cherry tree.
The sideshows provided the usual freaks, 
Teasing gut brain and muscle memory.

An ascot wearing yacht rock commodore
Come ashore for his usual wage:
A pickpocket imperialist strutting the boards
On his chosen colonial stage.

He came from some tiny Alpine principate
After stealing a movie star’s roadster.
Just know for a fact that it weren’t Lichtenstein,
It was really Lichtenstein’s monster.  

He has black labs, brewskis, and bluebirds
Neatly baked into his trendy man bun.
For when a little dab ‘ll do ya, as they say,
Who needs all that greasy kid stuff? 

He’s just another two-bit clown
We see his pants fall halfway down.
There’s no understanding really what he did.
He claims he played marbles with the Sundance Kid

And the barkers lined the midway
From the high bridge to the gateway,
As I marveled at the wonders I saw
In this place they call Carnival Town.

 
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
A SUCKER BORN EVERY MINUTE

Premium Member Broken Heart Lane

As the gossiping canary sat on the wharf 
Watching the west ham going forth 
“Off to mingle” 
Thackray said who was single 
“With the white lilies”
Forgetting about the wolves who were very chilly 
No goals on the board 
Points being ignored 
Entering into the lovely garden 
Thackray wondered 
Was this a survival test? 
After a long rest
Knowing her recording record was not the best 
Looking around Thackray saw the black and white message 
Feeding the buzz honey mustard dressing 
No middle ground to blur 
Only the relegation zone pot to stir 
What was starting?
Luring apples needing to be carting? 
There was a cherry in Aston’s Villa looking to be on top 
A sweet surprise inside the Championship League ice cream shoppe  
Already finding a flat down stairs 
Investigating canary wanting to know if the west ham was in an affair 
When Thackray engaged with the beautiful buds 
Enjoying the scent dreaming for a stud 
Seeing one in a spot 
A place where the defense could put an end to the shot 
But somehow there was a miss
And an own goal occurred without an assist 
“I did this all alone
It was me on the phone “ 
Thackray would gingerly groan 
Minutes later a man appeared 
From the darkness the west ham was in fear 
His name 
Was Kane 
And he ended the west ham visit 
Right in the net he really kissed it 
Returning to make a plan 
In the dungeon the canary laughed like a spur fan 
“I will make a note
Bachelor Jason was Thackray’s vote
They were secretly wed,” 
Corresponding canary said 
Walking down broken heart lane 
Thackray realized she was turning insane 
Due to the obsession fame 
Until she picked up the mail 
While scratching off a lottery ticket that failed 
Opening to read the newspaper’s tales 
She exclaimed, “That canary is going to get nailed!”
Form: Rhyme

Applesauce!

Pause in applause Poet you Write for a life
times Mind finding the blinding bliss of the Jest
yes Just, and for the fun. This and these. Poems.

Best of balloons tunes and cartoon cars in the sun
two red blue shoes to be seen in chacO.latte covered
blueGenes... Yes, Rod is the berry cherry flavor too,
savor kids, Shes a trekin' . Knot messin' with the
Apple.sauce Know.... the show goes on. AND on.

Engage! Minnie speaks in a java porcelain peak
of the mornings jargon a song long drawn in a cup
souped up of the day and a dawn. It's called fun.
Real.a.Tea. Have a Sum squeeks the java called Jo.
Lava Godiva.Cocao.nut too? With your lime Pooh?
"I was Just, making sure of you..."


"Number One... You have the bridge." Fly Write
our bird burning Sage of a ship.Friend. By night
I intend to return Planets burn for the knoW
so traveling I go now... to find the Monk...

Sublime in my rhyme I leave you be.Number One
on the bridge a Time to see Spock's on the Clock
and I'll be back... Terms to later are better then
fights in flights of bad weather.And so. Make it so!

Applause!.EnterPrise.PeAce is the Prize. Write!
AND put some sauce in them Apples!Two.(h)Our Zulu.
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Ego and the Great Beyond

Just beyond the tip of the nose
Piercing out with perfect vision
Through beady almost human eyes
There is absolutely nothing to see
Because this story is all about me
Me me me with a cherry on top with me
Stomping up and down crying for mommy
In a pajama-ed, red faced, full blown tantrum               
In trauma with my drama till I turn blue
Holding my breath till I fade to black
You must turn in the opposite direction now
This is going to get pretty sick quickly
Even ugly if you look back
It has nothing to do with you so leave
If I don't get cakes and chocolates
In exactly five seconds
I'm going to explode or something worse
By plunging my foot or thumb inside my mouth
(whichever comes first or is closer)
Teaching you all a lesson once and for all
No one comes between me and my digestion
There is nothing beyond my nose and toes
Nothing between my ears worth listening to
Nothing worth knowing
This is no mystery
So don't even go there mister

Premium Member Morass of Poop

MORASS OF POOP

lucid crudity,
profoundly abusive,
mostly nudity,
but for some crass morass of poop.

the dam’s jammed with ***********,
jelly-like googly eyes,
a real mr. potato head.

i scream,
someone change mr. wonderful’s diapers!

upon exclaiming this topic,
excrement of cussing,
like diarrhea deserts the hell hole.

something clean,
like angel’s wings,
with diaper pins and all

W                              W
   W                        W
       W                 W
          W           W


an angel, nothing like a nun, with cherry cheeks,
simplicity’s smile, and a big bar of soap

at first he froths and foams like a madman
but with a clean diaper and pins in place,
he almost looks like a saint

4/8/2018
John Lawless’ Changing The Mind’s Diapers

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