Long Chirp Poems
Long Chirp Poems. Below are the most popular long Chirp by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chirp poems by poem length and keyword.
Your years and days become shorter
as memories past seem further away
when your bones and limbs ache
one wonders what's become of the day
One's hearing seems dull and lacking
and pardon's a regular word
you don't have regular conversations
even hard to hear chirp of morning bird
The mobility you're now lacking
and shakier on your feet
you need someone to hold to
or more often on your seat
The eye test becomes more regular
with prescription glasses even stronger
the headlines is all you can read
and sleepless nights seem longer
So fading light comes to us all
these times unavoidable they are
but still some moments to savour
ones to cherish forever by far
Where have they gone
Have they just drifted away
Have they gone forever
Or will they be back one day?
Have they gone where it’s peaceful
Where it’s spring all year long
Where flowers always bloom
And birds chirp happy songs
Have they gone where the air is clean
Where the suns warmth is mild
Where animals roam free
Never any fear for a child
Have they gone where life’s safe
All are gentle and kind
Where there’s peace in their hearts
Quiet calm in their minds
Where have they gone
I know they will never return
I will hold them in my hearts vault
For them…. I will forever yearn!
"Nature always wears the colors of the spirit." Ralph Waldo Emerson
From the flaming sunburst horizon ascends dawn,
flimsy clouds of golden filament glide slowly by,
spectrum of color on the sea canvas they smear,
silver crested waves create gem strings on the shore.
The sparkling stream cascades in the emerald valley,
carves in rocks mystique motifs of surreal architecture,
polished pebbles rolling in the rhythm of waltzing water,
listen to the music of the rustling leaves floating in air.
On the verdant forest canopy the cerulean sky shines,
the trees swaying in zephyr make light and shade lattice,
sapphire night sprinkles silent stardust on the thicket,
fireflies flicker with the cadenced chirp of cricket.
Pristine nature’s charming show lifts up the sagging spirit,
in stream of supernal euphoria the boundless essence flows.
The supreme creator has given the mankind a gorgeous gift,
its grandeur has be preserved as a treasure for the future.
_______________
February 23, 2022
Theme chosen : Nature
Contest : F Form - Free Verse - New
Sponsored by : Constance La France
The twist of a tongue
The hiss of a word
The end of a sentence
The start of a chirp
Saying nothing means everything
Saying everything means nothing
A language consists of words
Words give the voiceless a voice
To speak their mind and not hold their tongue
And let their inner beauty show
Speaking is an art only a few understand
To hold the attention of a room
To sway an audience
To charm a lover
There are many ways to convey a thought
There are many languages one can speak
Each with their own weight and significance
All are unique
An endless cycle from beginning to end
That is what a voice brings
A thought sprouts
You water it with curiosity and doubt
An idea nourishes it
And it blooms when you speak it
It withers through rejection
And dies due to shame
That is what a voice brings
That is what language contains
A field of withered flowers
That once held beauty
A field of ideas that were once valid
A field of voices becoming voiceless
The speakers finally becoming speechless
Last night I dreamt -
The leaves on the long winding road crunched,
And in a black car I rode weeping,
And when it reached its final destination,
I was standing with a single red rose.
And again and again -
I meander up a labyrinth road into the hush,
Drooping trees creak and groan sadly;
And birds chirp beneath an inky purple sky,
A cold north wind is blowing and howling.
So beautiful and lonely is this place of tears,
But I wish to run far away from this dream;
Still, a deep peacefulness wraps around me,
This place is etched into my mind.
Row on row, headstones old and crumbling,
Inscriptions unreadable, others new;
I admire beautiful moss draped angel statues,
In the maze- the one I seek beckons.
Deep engraved names that I know well,
My beloved rest beneath my feet in peace;
And I drift this sad misty place, a dreamer,
Floating with my long gone memories.
I have stepped into a dream of grieving,
And I read words engraved in cold stone;
Engraved forever and for all eternity, beloved,
This is where I find you- only in dreams
_______________________________
May 7, 2016
Poetry/Verse/"Last Night I Dreamt"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-787-353-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Dreams
sponsor, Royal Ninja
Third Place
Turning sun's touch realign and tilt
Languid brooks scarce compete with hardy
The breeze of ease reposing and tardy
As debutants of summer seem to wilt
Forests draped in glorious orange dress
Bestows blessings upon the autumn bride
Fancy June too fickle for October pride
Her harvest of bounty demands to impress
Sunsets richer, night loon serenade
Moon more crisp, crickets chirp brisk
Romancing in red is worth the risk
As waterfalls of leaves cascade
In this palette of color Mother Earth grants
The year closes on a gift of wonder
Living blaze before cold ices under
These painted weeks of Picasso, of Rembrandt-
9/5/18
For Dear Heart's "Enclosed Rhyme" contest
I unbox my faux Christmas tree, a tradition every year,
Adorned with baubles, lights, and festive cheer,
In the living room, presents beneath its boughs,
A holiday aura, a delightful vow.
My daughter opts for a real Spruce so divine,
Decked in finery, outshining mine,
Alpine scent wafts, a winter's sweet reprieve,
Snowy visions, Christmas Eve.
Around the lake on a cool, cloudy day,
Live trees adorned in hues, a picturesque display,
Birds chirp, lively ornaments on display,
Geese, swans, egrets in festive play.
Rain or shine, the tree stands bold,
A beacon of goodwill, a tale untold,
No shining lights, no silvery attire,
Yet, an aura of happiness, a radiant fire.
A frequenter of concert square
A consumer of ecstasy
Thus was how I begot my teenage kicks
A cocktail mix of pills and beer
On a Saturday night
Bound for club
To dance away
Human traffic
Writhing to the soundtracks of the summer of love
Inside the dome of a super club
As God is my D.J
A child of Robert Miles
Faithless insomniac
I cant get no sleep
My ears bled from the beat
Starring into my bedroom ceiling
In the dark my pupils arch
Back to the strobe lights
I lay in wait
Counting sheep
Still underneath the chemical spell
Pulsations in my veins
The birds who chirp
And dawning sun that thaws between my curtain
Is the price the riders must pay
The entry tickets
When going out to play
With drugs inside your system
To the beat - rhythm and blues
Beauteous - the cleft notes with a fling
Birds are silently chirping in sync
Relentless - Prominent thou that they sing
It's a rendez-vous - awe in glamor of awe
Then thou the beauty of the bewilderment
The calling - silent whispering in key
Singing proud the voice screams a soprano
And the pride of the inner solemn soul flatters me
I see - still having some rhythm
And at times Beauteous be blues
Dawn - The breaking point at most
The significance of morning blunts the dews
And the glamor of the rendez- vous
In my precious mind - in my head
I glance and the calm of the soloist
Reckon whispers sweet nothings in me instead
Sing - Sing proud and that of out loud
The voice is heard within my aura indeed
My soul perplexed by the beauty of the chirp
Internally awakes me planting seed.
The sinking sun now leaves the sky,
And rush of day has passed us by.
Crickets chirp and late bird calls,
Day’s shadows fail, night’s curtain falls.
The rasping croaks of frogs now boom,
Like banshees howling from their tomb.
The screech of owls in search of prey,
Join in night’s chorus, dark and grey.
The moon casts out its ghostly light,
And lends its power to feed the night.
The landscape now is grim and bleak,
And cloaks death’s deadly hide and seek.
Before the rising of the morn’.
Victors fed, and victims torn.
And all of this, hid from our sight,
Cloaked by the veil we know as night.
As morning light once more appears,
A new days chorus greets our ears.
Nightime’s deadly deeds are done,
Their memories bleached by rising sun.
Ivor G Davies