Long Chime in Poems
Long Chime in Poems. Below are the most popular long Chime in by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chime in poems by poem length and keyword.
In these colors, do you see red out there?
And in red, do you need strength?
Are you someone needed to be mightier?
In these colors, do you feel green somewhere in?
Do you believe in warmth, grass-root progression?
Or, one day closer in, to fade in within the horizon?
In these colors, will you ever prefer brown?
Skin-colored divine codes, still arrogant in denial?
The huge Carpe-Diem, calling you and me, to chime in.
In these colors, will you ever supplicate for the gray one?
White and black, black and white, color mixing hippy lives...
An utter failure or, an anonymously gray one.
In these colors, do you see a color, for you and me, and a moon?
The cosmic terrain, crawling in into laughter, festoon and religious boons?
Reaching for your hands there, farther down to start within.
Eid Mubarak
I stepped out of the cloud that surrounds me to breathe fresh air and walk about in the splendid atmosphere, spring has come and gone and left me stuck for years on the dry and dusty floor, I did not see the leaves when they were folding and I have not seen the flowers when they were blooming, spring has shut me up inside and summer is lingering by my side.
Take me out in the opening and show me the good tidings, fill my lungs with fresh air and take me to the shore to absorb the smell of the salt filled breeze, take me for a swim and let the summer chime in, the beaches are crowded and I am locked up inside this concrete wall and everyone is pulling the energy from me and the mountain is dancing around.
I want to shake the burden off my shoulder and do a complete makeover. I have been wrestling with this moment in time skipping and hopping all over the place and I have complete several races, but this time around it is different, it is one of a kind when my heart will be still and release the wilderness that is puffed up into my chest, and allow nature to do the rest.
Come with me to the summer treat and enjoy the entertainment in the street, fill your pockets with coins for we are going to play the game machine all night, and I am going take away every dime, I am not going to leave this place broke and I will bring back the summer in my life to compensate for all the indoor sacrifice.
I promise to be good and listen to nature when it speaks, I can feel life moving around and summer is knocking at my door; come with me to the Gym and I will teach you how to lift weight and tone your muscles and gain some weight. Life begins at forty and I want you to be happy.
Step out of the crowd and be bold, step out of the crowd and you will be made whole; it’s you alone now on the dance floor and all eyes are on you, focus on your routine and remember that the universe is embracing you, hold your head upright and the beam will take you to a brighter light.
Step out of the crowd and walk with boldness in your shoe, your long-awaited dream is about to come true; you have everything inside of you, the universe is waiting for you, be bold.
Getting up early to embark on a trip,
a snowy drive to Jersey.
Trying to quell my heart's rapid beats,
favored songs in my speakers.
"Hey man, I don't want to be alone,
not for this - not again."
"I've got you, bud -
when and where?"
Visiting his grave one more time,
now two years from the day.
Thinking of stories of him,
trying to remember his voice.
Two vets talking near a silent one;
chatting about old times and new.
I think he'd like to chime in,
and wish he could so bend our ears.
I didn't have to go there solo this round,
though it wouldn't be the first or last time.
My request for help via companionship,
so swiftly asked and answered.
Some brothers don't have the same blood
that runs through your veins;
through deed they cement the same bond,
through trials they bear the same scars.
Whenever you can, find these souls,
these spirits kind and kindred;
for when you fall, you may be stunned
at the number of hands there to lift you.
Dream catchers chime in the wind,
like soft tones of a xylophone.
Melodic melancholic rain,
is free flowing,
but morning birds still arrive,
sitting on wet window sills,
singing about their desires.
In daffodil daydreams,
the breeze resonates like a flutist,
gently swaying bluebells in a rhythmic flow,
as pink, silver and lilac heather spread
around a bed of golden violet crocus.
Under my magnificent magnolia tree,
ivory petals dance in puddles upon
damp lawns with fresh grass,
weeping love songs strummed
on acoustic strings of green.
Sprinkles of drizzle sparkle,
like an absent lover's ostinato,
caressing the earth in a
rhapsody of tender kisses,
nourishing it's soul to harmonise with
a symphony of returning sun rays.
As a chorus of clouds clear in
a final crescendo, introducing
sapphire hues with golden delight,
rainbow pastels bless the tempo
of rows of tantalising tulips
in kaleidoscopic shades -
as natures breathes in alternating fusion.
Quiritation, quintessence.
Quirister, chime in.
Sickle moon, slivered crescents.
Harvest, glitter grin.
Quickening, quill? Quoth, quotum?
Grapes of wrath, red tide?
Shelter well, velarium!
Vinomadefied!
Viscid, visibilia?
Victrix, vair, vespoid.
Squirrel, thin ice? About me thaw!
Wasp, be paranoid!
Balefire, baetyl, bedaggle.
Ballyhoo bold, bagarre.
Nacre, naiad? Ne'er naggle!
Baisemain? Bizarre!
Blind bandelet? Binausic.
Belie, binaural beat.
Baragouin, barbette brick!
Blind, basiation? Bleat!
Best, bathysphere? Bathysmal.
Batrachian bateleur.
Ailed, apathy? Abysmal!
Bought ticket, took tour!
Abased or abacinate?
What is left to see?
Death and Doom, dread not thy date!
Just move in with me!
Abodement, abnegation?
Bad omens to renounce?
Chaos, cold is creation!
Pound, buy not the ounce....
A whistling toad is an abomination to the soul and a barking dog is enough to start the brawl; the wind cannot keep still because it is draining energy from the flour mill, the yellow jacket wasp is flying around and it is looking for something to confound. It suddenly landed on my hand but I squeeze out sting before it sinks in.
I love to whistle in the morning, in the evening and at noon. With trees standing behind me and dreams running before. I love to watch the butterfly, gallivanting in the sky sucking nectar from the flowers and converging in the cellar, while the ambitious ant on the glorious mission, walking up and down the street pointing a revolver at the people it meets. It has no cruel intention; it only wants to scare them. If it confronts you just whistle and smile with the breeze.
I have an appointment to meet you today so come and see me without delay. Take your suitcase with you and wear a brand-new pair of shoes, kiss it goodbye on the side of its chin and do a little shimmy before the hot weather chime in. Walk with it to the gate and examine its nose, ears and eyebrow, lips and finger tips and when you get the code just whistle and walk right through the door.
The heat is raging in the East and fire is burning underneath my feet. The clue to find the Holy Grail is mapped out in various patterns on the concrete floor and the diamond on my ring finger is disrupting my heartbeat and beckoning you to come to the shore. Water is springing up in my face but I am confident that I will win the final race.
I want to take off to the sky but my piggy bank is crying someone broke off its nose and took all my coins out. There is neither penny nor dime to get to my new destination on time, so if you can hear me today just whistle and I will listen to what you have to say.
Once your head gets through the hole your body will ask for more and if you cannot swim get on the boat before the next wind. Someone will come and see you and whistle before the day is through and when you get to your destination someone will take care of you. When you don’t know what to do, just whistle and it will come to you.
The sun does arise,
On the valley sweet,
The birds & pups wise,
Call our kits to meet.
The hoots & hollers,
Sound loud for miles;
Yet! Amiss is one collar,
Lone in the Sky Isles.
The sun does down,
On the green hills tired,
Lining the vale round,
Our pets to bed retired.
The whistles & purrs,
Chime in the crisp wind.
All but one bed stirs;
Our dear numbers thinned.
Long time does pass,
Bleak winter does come,
Hoar-frost is the grass,
Warmed by a low hum.
We stand together,
Upon valleys sharp,
Wond’ring: ‘just whether,
You’re hearing, fain, the sky harp.’
The smell of fresh baked cakes keeps floating in the air and daylight burst through the sky spilling coffee latte on the roof and I stood still inside and watch the cream drips slowly from the ceiling and my appetite began to grow.
The morning delicacies with its illuminated prophecy is baked in the sun on top of the roof and the skies spreads out over it, sauteing it with thick syrup mixed in consorted colors. And I watch the oracle unfold.
It is not one of the normal days when everything goes according to plan, the distraction chime in and the trespassers start singing a hideous song and the birds appear out of nowhere flying all over the skies.
I have waited for this moment to come, when the universe would bend its knees and run with the flame before the games and lit up the world and cover the darkness around.
The darkness is fading and true lights have emerged from the heart. The intensity is strong and I want you to come along. The heat is swelling and the asphalt is melting; the animals are jumping all around and the dowry has fallen from the skies and consumes the entire town.
The people were all sleeping and some were still dreaming the ball of fire lit up the sky and havens embrace the morning with a bucket of water to quell the global disaster.
They weave the thread of time, in the pattern of their mind, the threads are moving through the needle and the sewing machine stands still in the garment factory and watch and the threads crosses the points towards the median line.
It carves out various patterns of old and stitch them together in one bundle and place them on the assemble line. The Dowry in the skies came just in time to save them from total destruction.
Clarity and Truth are important to us all.
Trust your Intuition.
You know the answer.
Don't doubt yourself.
I've had repeated messages about this recently. So, I completely understand this experience.
We need to Trust. Believe. Let go.
Believe in your Soul
By Michelle Morris
26/03/2025
When you seek Clarity and Truth
You might think it's being elusive
But you know the answers
Your Soul whispers softly to you
All you need to do is be still
Be silent and go within
You are your own guru and muse
You don't need other voices to chime in
Trust your Intuition
You know, you know, you know
Forget about indecision
Let it go, let it go, let it go
Believe in yourself
Believe in your Soul
Believe in your Miracles
Believe in your wholeness
God and His Angels have your back
The Universe is creating for you every day
The Sun and the Moon smile when they see you
Find the Joy and Fun through Life's Maze
You are more Powerful than you realise
And Anything is Possible
You're created to experience Love and Light
Blessings that are unstoppable
So, find that Peace and Quiet
Find that Harmony within
Allow your Soul to Guide you
Ignite your Spark of Divinity
© Michelle Morris, 2025
"Mother’s Milk"
I don’t know -
what would you have me say?
Life is a gourmand perfume
rolling along on the notes of air
intoxicating musk a jubilee
music you breathe and reign in
words lactonic heaven scent
stimulating the beginning and the end
in synaesthesia the let-down presents
succulent life, a moment brief and swift
a hint of warm peppered cinnamon
with gunshot sparks recalcitrant pink
a straight shot from the heady accord first off
hard points from mother’s breast rouge the plot
we drink it all in
life is the sweetest illusion
bittersweet and burnt bent
we are all drunk to it;
before we begin,
we begin again,
we are swallowed large
into this small life
like an unknown mystery
karmic charms chime in
fragrant and in fragrant notes
recalcitrant journeys
roads less taken
sweet and bitter almonds
we hear the distant bells chime
we sign off reluctantly
to only begin it all again
Candide Diderot. ‘25