Long Chilling Poems
Long Chilling Poems. Below are the most popular long Chilling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chilling poems by poem length and keyword.
On a frigid winter evening, so still
that hot breath lingered around my face.
In snow sparklingly dry and crystalline
I encountered fresh-made footprints,
leading off my mostly trodden path.
The sun was low in evening's sky
creating long dark spectral shadows
that would all too soon be swallowed.
But for a moment illumed the footprints
in a strange, compelling light.
A fleet chilling wind whisked around
flurrying the fine, icy flakes,
attempting to erase the marks.
Against the will to forge ahead
imprint the virgin snow, I turned;
and followed the path the footsteps made.
No further prints I saw upon the ground;
no evidence of animal or other.
Though in the distance I could hear,
as darkness drew its shroud,
the wailing of nocturnal beasts.
Then deathly, eerie silence save
for crying of the wind in tangled trees;
as I was led through thickets coarse,
and forests deepest gloomy dark,
to end beneath an ancient misty lychgate.
I stood beside a solitary grave
one word; 'Father,' etched upon the stone.
I glanced back from whence I came
In snow sparklingly dry and crystalline;
one single track of fresh-made footprints,
illumed in strange, compelling light.
Silence in the forest
Silence in the heart
Leaves in every color
Leaves, falling through rays
Light pouring out her grace
Early morning rainfall
Caressing my spirit – my faith
Abundant in prayer and praise
Snow kisses – chilling, blessing
With eager shadows, cool
Honest breaths, erasing dread
Creating a winter smile…
For the eyes of every child,
Including me
Tender words
From the one I love
kindness
Filling my mind with light
My heart with life
My soul with the wonder
From love that abides
Inspiring, shattering the night
The warmest welcome
From the dog who knows me
As its ally, its companion
The one it sees as genius
Even when I know differently
What thrills me most of all
Is the grace that smiles
Over my soul, inspiring, reviving
Refreshing so I can always know
He is living down deep inside
Where this love invites…
Shadows to fall away
And light to enter, reflecting
The wonder of His ways,
Escape from the darkest past
Assurance that He lives
And because He gives me hope
I can always know…
Love that grows and grows!
When Snow Came To Waltz
Like animated dancing silhouettes
Stilled in time—
Caged on all sides by the chilling whiteness,
We waited in frozen
Hope.
The sun had abandoned us, leaving
Only a faint reflection;
What could he do anyway? All
Is like a maximum security of nature
Lock down.
Struggling with itself, the human spirit
Grows—grows
Wearily weird with wanton wrath—
Warning unheeded.
Bending knees cringed
In once forgotten prayers—searching;
Howling winds and chilled waxed ears listened.
Void answers.
Whispering fires wane and beg with hunger; but
The wood cupboard has gone bare—and electricity?
She ran away and hid in the bitter dark!
As promised, blizzard waltz in and sat quietly.
With stoic patience, she waited to dance and go her way.
But our fuel dance cards had turned to cold ashes.
Now comes the wind,
stealth like creeper whispering
venting in the shadowy image of the trees.
A calm soft breeze easing in at first,
a sojourner on the bland gray skies,
dim lit end of winter's call, marching winds.
Rising high up in the atmosphere
dropping down as if a bird of prey
eyeing some tantalizing delights.
Breathless mistral bora chilling the air
swooping in unsuspected xlook
tantalizing the coastal seas to rise;
Breathe, taking in a sirocco
as it slips and slides north and east
riding zephyr upon the ocean currents.
To land across the distant horizon
snaking, weaving, twisting along the foamy waves
to touch the earth, twirl it up, down prairie mountain forests.
Now comes the wind
unseen figure spread wide and thin
catabatic current fleetings, scouring the earth.
One of the chilling aspects of a hurricane is how, from hundreds of miles away, you get to watch it form…and all the time you have to think…
and prepare…
before the storm.
The storm forms in the ocean…somewhere way out to sea…
and your first hope is that you don’t end up in the cone of uncertainty.
But even when you do, when the predictions that the hurricane will hit you are strong…you keep praying…wishing…and hoping…that the weatherman is wrong.
You’re filled with mixed emotions…knowing the hurricane is going to devastate…
but not knowing when, exactly, or who…
knowing it’s going to land on someone…somewhere…
and praying that someone isn’t you.
As you prepare for what might happen…what that eventual hurricane might do…
It gives you time to reevaluate the things, in life, that are important to you.
Your first thoughts and calls and texts go out to friends and family…
You want them to know you’re thinking about them
and that they’re as safe as they can be.
Once you’ve secured your house as best you can…
and you know your children, grandchildren and friends are safe and warm…
you’re satisfied you’ve done all you can
to prepare…
before the storm.
Then you wait as the storm approaches…
content the love of your friends and family is strong….
and as you hold on to one another…
you keep hoping…
the weatherman is wrong.
Spine chilling velocity
Willing feverish ferocity
Pollution spilling atrocity
Pushes our buttons
Top billing forging
Fiendish drilling pomposity
Gluttons gorging in the isles of muttons
Coining the term “purloining”
Plunder even here down under
Cast asunder..can hear the thunder
In the proud land of
The long white cloud
Scold from the fold to heal
But won’t listen..do a deal
Gaudy gems appeal..glisten
History sold for pieces of gold
Cower to phoney crony power
Dour Parasites roll the dice
Show pony baloney hour
Off their heads...now divining
Mining our whining sea beds..
Palaver of scour..devour and sour
Splice our shining slice of paradise
Vice rather than stories of glories told
Voraciously gobbling veracity
Audaciously hobbling precocity
Generosity wobbling even in the home
Of lengthy Cumulus Curiosity…
Not being funny
In this Land of Milk & Honey
Won’t kowtow to the cash cow
Getting out of hand
Because the answer forever
Whatever will never ever
Be just money!
Adopted animals love their humans;
show it in many ways.
The tiniest pet,
revels in the harmony of its time,
with family.
Dinky was a special hamster;
she lived a year beyond the normal life span.
I carried her around in my pocket and she loved the ride.
Her head, peeking out, evoked curious comments
from all who glimpsed her.
She searched for me, when I was at school;
her knack for escaping the cage,
kept me searching for her in the afternoons.
I often found her, in my chest of drawers.
Of course, I found it odd,
but hamsters are four-legged, Houdini’s…
Dinky was the best.
One cold winter night, as I lay in slumber,
That tiny traveler made her way from,
one end of the house, to my bedroom.
I lay there, on that frosty eve,
dreaming that I was outside in the rain;
the chilling raindrops, dancing upon my arm.
In a moment of lucidity,
Reality hit; those raindrops were tiny paws!
I reached, grasped and in the shimmering moonlit rays,
I stared into the eyes of my new bed buddy.
A twitchy nose said it all…
”I found you!”
I moved her cage close by my bedside;
future escapes faded into history.
Love, sometimes
Let’s a heart go, silently
Without one word
Never questioning, never
Searching for the hope
That she might stay,
Yes, she might delay, settling
For the heart who adores
Love, it seems
Forgets the caress
Can sometimes leave
Footprints, traces of passion
Intimacy, breathless
Promises, teasing memories
Alive in the shadows
Sharp glimpses of light
Love, while warm
Might leave a wintry nip,
Chilling the bones
Where there once was
Gentleness beyond
Sensitivity – emotional
Camouflaging, in crisp, smooth
Colors, hues of affection
Love, inspired
By the kindness
Abiding in the thought,
Always praying soft
On the heart who knows
Her bleeding portrait,
Mysterious, twisting in
Tangled whispers, eventually
Leading away the victims
Heartbroken, forlorn prisoners
Love, it’s light
Rains hope into the dawn
Kisses the fallen
Soul, the one who only
Know the joy that
Stirs, trembling, through
Those who know the truth,
The beauty, the grace – the way
Love, that can’t stay away
Love, that will never fade
Love, glowing
At the center of every
Dream,
Beyond the weakest
Fear or doubt,
Shimmering like the stars
Reflecting what it means
To give with the heart
Who loves unconditionally
Love brings joy and peace
Rouses laughter
And faith…
Restores dreams –
Love is everything
As I watch his wooden casket lowered into the ground,
I can still hear enemy weapons firing round after round.
Forever now, he'll lie in darkness; a terrible fate I lament.
Weeping with malaise of guilt, in prayer my head is bent,
trying to muffle my sobs so they escape without a sound.
My warm tears are mingling with December's chilling rain.
Memories cause my depression. Now I live with the pain
of knowing it was me he saved. This should be my grave,
for he died protecting me. He was a hero, valiantly brave.
I whisper words of sorrow to him, in hymns of sad refrain.
On a granite stone, his date of birth and death appear.
My fingers trace them, as again my mind can clearly hear
explosions of mortar shells and the morbid smell of blood
before something heavy fell on me, landing with a thud.
That deathly moment in life, will remain with me, I fear.
My hands tremble as clouds above darken to nimbus gray.
I fall to my knees in anguish, searching for words to convey
the depth of gratitude that I owe him, but none can I find.
I'll live with his death haunting me, to that I am resigned,
as I recall this rainy day and the scent of flowers in array.
Death is the outcome for many when men march to wars.
I had no illusion that my service would leave me with scars,
but nothing would've prepared my heart to feel so inept
at thanking him who gave his life. What can I say except,
"I leave this grave distraught; it should be mine, not yours."
July 7, 2022
Tears of a Valiant Soldier Contest
Sponsored by: Faraz Ajmal
Mist descends like an apparition upon the hills,
pinching every blade of grass and barren branch between its fingers.
It's omnipresent-
seeping into every crevice and tunnelling under doorframes,
filling the gap between the Earth and Heavens.
I wander within the mist.
It's light- almost as light as the air,
and yet somehow it so completely smothers
the overhead roar of New Year's fireworks.
This year I've shouted with passion, cried without hope;
I've stared disconsolately and smiled in sincerity.
This year, spring was fleeting and summer rushed by in panic;
autumn left in blazing trails,
leaving only winter's arms dangling around my neck.
Though I knew this mist must form,
for the sky is never as warm as the Earth,
I cannot help but implore "How much longer will this last?"
or, quieter, "How much more can I endure?".
But what is the price of stopping
if not the world?
I am reminded that life was not meant to be lived
like that of a beached whale
proud only in its size compared to the grains of sand,
nor was it to be spent despairing over one's insignificance-
No. It is to ascend the highest peaks,
to brush the void above the snowcaps;
It is to see the world and in it see myself,
to dive deep in the ocean and swoop between the clouds.
So let the past year crumble.
Even as last spring, summer and autumn vanish,
let winter's chilling hands take us by the waist
and sweep us forward into the storm.
Fear not;
it cannot contain us.
The sun will rise
and the mist
will lift.