Long Cherubic Poems
Long Cherubic Poems. Below are the most popular long Cherubic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cherubic poems by poem length and keyword.
Most people who meet her, consider her charming
But she has ghoulish traits, they’d find quite alarming
With her gleaming blonde tresses and sparkling blue eyes
Her cherubic features are just a disguise
For although she emits a celestial aura,
Angelic pastimes, quite simply, abhor her
Where other girls play with their ‘Barbie’ dolls
She has mystic wars with her hideous Trolls
Her peers, read Enid Blyton in Bed
She takes Stephen King, with his tales of the dead
And, when it comes to the movies she’s seen
A Nightmare on Elm Street, Hallow’een,
Poltergiest, Psycho, The Thing, The Blob too
These are just to name but a few
There’s nothing she likes more than a good ‘chiller’
With ghosts, ghouls and monsters, or psychotic killers
She watches the Grand Prix, to watch the cars crash
She loves to see the players fouled at a soccer match,
Ice skaters, she wills to fall flat on their faces
And athletes, when running, to trip on their laces
Yet, despite her having such a sick and perverse mind
She’s loving and caring, gentle, sensitive, kind
Unselfish and thoughtful, advanced for her ten years
Who on watching Disney films, has been known to shed a tear
Although she won’t admit to it, it’s only herself, she fools
And I wouldn’t change one inch of her, my ‘angelic’ little ghoul.
© Janette Fisher – April 1995
This poem was written 15 years ago when my youngest was 10 - she hasn't changed a bit!!!!
~ Frost
by
design
~ delicate,
crafted in the night,
dainty — like lacy handiwork
~ inspirational, like twisted wire, a story told —
details meted out behind heaven’s door, with peculiarities that we adore
~ O
please
inspect
windowpane
crystalline effects ~
~ seraphic white silver and gold —
the finest craftsmanship, twisted with Eden’s treasure ~
filigree beads of angelic hoary-breath, reminders of the invisible God
~ Rime
clings
to soil,
inspired world —
embraced by cold hands ~
fragile tendrils spread like ivy,
intricate cherubic smithing — like spider webbing,
subtleties sensational, O how it sparkles ~ seasonal diamondiferous earth
1/24/2018
The Magic Of Three
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Fibonacci (8 lines) x 3 = 24 lines(pattern- 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 syllables)
The rest of my life starts now...
A checkerboard battle of custody,
evidence of fatherly love fell short
My fuddled walk now through leafless trees,
weeps, traversing corners of an empty nest
erasing black patches of white sunlight
I am learning to live without you, my dear.
In my flowerless spring,
I can hear footsteps of your childish laughter
In my sterile morning window panes,
I can see your cherubic sunny face
In my dusty colourless albums ,
I can touch your tantrums reborn
In your sizzling scent of innocence,
I can drench my sonorous silence.
Haunting words of ache from my quiet world
will perhaps never reach you
In a distant country , I see you growing up
As I grow up... learning to live without you.
30th May 2020
Sponsor JCB Burl
Contest Name A World Without You ??
“When the torrents of longing of two hearts mingle
the lovers swim in the entrancing stream” – By Poet
The cadence of craving soars on the wings of dream,
behind the closed eyes, the lilt of longing hovers
in the sapphire sky suffused with radiance of reverie
of the dormant love I nurture deep in my heart.
When sleep holds the entranced vision in a spell
my dreams fuse with the facsimile of your charisma.
Lost in the depth of blind love, they can’t discern
when the two yearning hearts merge into one.
As your radiant cherubic charm flashes within me
I feel the rhythm of your love mingle with mine,
cascading as the enticing torrent of togetherness
in the vivacious valley on the placid plateau of love.
Picturebook Princess
by Michael R. Burch
for Keira
We had a special visitor.
Our world became suddenly brighter.
She was such a charmer!
Such a delighter!
With her sparkly diamond slippers
and the way her whole being glows,
Keira’s a picturebook princess
from the points of her crown to the tips of her toes!
***
The Aery Faery Princess
by Michael R. Burch
for Keira
There once was a princess lighter than fluff
made of such gossamer stuff—
the down of a thistle, butterflies’ wings,
the faintest high note the hummingbird sings,
moonbeams on garlands, strands of bright hair ...
I think she’s just you when you’re floating on air!
***
Tallen the Mighty Thrower
by Michael R. Burch
Tallen the Mighty Thrower
is a hero to turtles, geese, ducks ...
they splash and they cheer
when he tosses bread near
because, you know, eating grass sucks!
***
Success
by Michael R. Burch
for Jeremy
We need our children to keep us humble
between toast and marmalade;
there is no time for a ticker-tape parade
before bed, no award, no bright statuette
to be delivered for mending skinned knees,
no wild bursts of approval for shoveling snow.
A kiss is the only approval they show;
to leave us—the first great success they achieve.
***
Lullaby
by Michael R. Burch
for Jeremy
Cherubic laugh; sly, impish grin;
Angelic face; wild chimp within.
It does not matter; sleep awhile
As soft mirth tickles forth a smile.
Gray moths will hum a lullaby
Of feathery wings, then you and I
Will wake together, by and by.
Life’s not long; those days are best
Spent snuggled to a loving breast.
The earth will wait; a sun-filled sky
Will bronze lean muscle, by and by.
Soon you will sing, and I will sigh,
But sleep here, now, for you and I
Know nothing but this lullaby.
The first few days of school the staff in our elementary building have introductory days
Before the cherubic, well-behaved, respectful darlings arrive.
This year we are doing something amazing. We are doing our three days
In the summer, so they have to pay us an extra $150 for each of these days!
I am getting my introductory speech ready. Last year I was quite a hit.
I do not want to let my fans down this year.
Everyone else sticks to a script like this “My name is Yah Bah Ho and I am a 2nd grade teacher.”
Last year I told them I was the campaign manager for Leah, our acting principal and I got great laughs.
This year we will have at least six new teachers or paraprofessionals who have not yet met me.
I plan to say “I am yah yah whee and I am the killer of those who want a complaint box.
If you are one of those, I urge you to go work somewhere else for we have no complainers here.
I killed them last year, and they are buried out back.”
But at least two will yell “She is the school counselor!”
Ruining it for me.
I can tell you their names now
But that might be rude.
A man from distant lands
Celestial musings that you said to me
Still whisper gently in my memory
Reminding me of our heavenly kiss
Acquiescing to a pull of cherubic bliss.
Nothing has been the same since then
When under the moon we secretly met
For a union of our twilight dreams
Shining under glitter of stellar streams.
Moved by your supernal phrases
I opened the door of loving graces
Riding with you to ethereal places
Singing praises of romantic verses.
When moon so soon left evening sky
And winds shook up stormy clouds
I saw the retreating distant star
Urging you to exit before too long.
But you stayed put in drenching rain
Sheltering my frame without refrain
As we walked to a peaceful lake
Surrendering to love divinely ornate.
I knew you belonged to distant lands
When soon you left with moon and the stars,
Leaving behind your immortal vibe
Permanently bound with a seraphic tie.
January 4, 2018
Placed 1st: Strand Pick 7 contest by Brian Strand
Placed 5th in Impress Me premiere contest by Skat A
She cast a wistful look
At the side table
As she lay on her bed weak, old and infirm
Her two children with cherubic smiles
Look back at her from the frame
She reciprocates- a weak smile
“Remember, I would say
‘You are my angels’,”
She whispers to them
Unlikely they would hear
Both now successfully settled
In their lives
Their occasional phone calls
The slender connection
Between her ‘nostalgic’ past
And ‘abandoned’ present
‘You still are my angels’
She again whispers
But two treacherous tears
Roll down her shriveled, hollowed cheeks
While she squeezes shut her dull, moist eyes
Meanwhile her delicate frame
Continues to wait for the ‘real’ angels
To take her away.
Quotes from the 1960 movie, Pollyanna:
Pollyanna: Why don't you come out of the front door like normal people?
Jimmy: They won't let us. I can come out anytime I want with my tree.
Pollyanna: You could also fall and hurt yourself badly. You shouldn't play in trees.
Jimmy: That's stupid. Don't you believe in God?
Pollyanna
Impregnated with positivity…relishes wide toothed smile.
Lips, cherubic-pink…so courteous…chin tilted godward.
O this angelic pekingese courts the sinner for their own good.
“Impertinent child,” man, woman, and gut, clench in good grief.
The sun rises on her, never sets — vainglorious retch.
Still…crystal illumination twinkles rainbows and puppy dogs.
In the big house, rent free, Pollyanna roams the rooftop.
What - sneaking out! Can’t be. Jimmy coaxes her down the tree.
Her aunt’s an awful louse, forcing her down. Breakneck landing!
Daddy, the preacher died, leaving her legacy, unkind.
Black and white, no insight, everything will be alright - but it’s not.
A forest vigil of candlelight - flames reach to the highest height.
She does her best to tamp the flames - aims to feel sorry for herself.
Hurts worse than she can imagine…her doubts, her pride…she hides.
Yup…she has the whole town spinning…their sinning ways, trimming.
Impregnated with a gulp, this blue-eyed, bow-tied, Pollyanna.
They shut her up but good. Her goodness flew. Hit them in the pie hole.
With wicked widespread grins, they cheer the impertinent snipe.
9/24/2021
Sijo
Lofty oracle did with ceremonious rite fealty ordain
Two eagles soared on fecund mountain terrain
As twin peaks, sipped frothy dew from Venus's fountain
For a fortnight, rapturous clouds danced o'er my satin mane
But euphoric heights could not our platonic bond sustain
Anon, gilded valley below did your wandering eye retrain
Your cresting ego did my cherubic halo disdain
In wanderlust, you sifted greener pastures; drifting swain
Silting the tender lillies with a blighting stain
While from my spent pollen your nimble legs did abstain
As strapping lad, your insatiable mind rippling brooks did drain
Your **** desires drove you to climb the rockiest domain
And with intemperate senses the wildest herbs strain
My domesticated coattails could not stride your brackish train
My sallowing rose did a mildewed ring attain
Yet wilting stalk did in your fluttering shadow remain
Hoping for the cleansing tides of a penitent rain