Long Choicest Poems
Long Choicest Poems. Below are the most popular long Choicest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Choicest poems by poem length and keyword.
Beauty is in the keen eyes that behold
Never in the high mountains tinged with gold
Clouds that can swirl in any form or shape
Or forest greens that can cover and drape
Beauty is neither defined nor stated
No norms to fit but born to be fated
Like some weird constant in a formula
But is not missed if one has scrofula
Beauty is in actions and reactions
Soft melodious voice and inflections
A mere flutter of eyes, a winsome smile
Coy shake of the head goes a lengthy mile
Beauty is what makes your dullest day great
A few choicest words put springs in your gait
Beauty is there to be seen, discovered
To be unravelled by or recovered
Beauty is a lasting source of delight
Of joy, happiness and unbridled flight
Soaring in the sky of limitless love
Like an infinitely pure and white dove
mbfarookh
In the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen…
Almighty and everlasting God
Who, in the secret counsels of Your ineffable (indescribable) Providence (Fate)
Have been pleased to call us into life by means of our parents
Who therefore partake of Your divine power in our regard
Mercifully hear the prayer of filial (familial) affection
Which we offer to You
In behalf of those to whom You have given
A share of Your fatherly mercy
In order that they might lavish (produce in abundance) upon us
In our journey through life
The consoling gift of Your holy and generous love.
Dear Lord
Fill our parents with Your choicest blessings
Enrich their souls with Your holy grace
Grant that they may faithfully
Constantly guard that likeness to
Your mystic marriage with Your Church,
You did imprint upon them on the day of their nuptials
Fill them with the spirit of holy fear
The beginning of wisdom
Continually move them to impart the same to their children
Such wise may they ever walk in the way of Your commandments
May their children be their joy in this earthly exile
Their crown of glory in their home in heaven
Finally, Lord God
Grant that both our father
Our mother may attain to extreme old age
Enjoy perpetual health in mind and body
May they deserve to sing
Your praises forever in our heavenly country in union with us
Their children
Giving You most hearty thanks
You have given upon them
In this valley of tears
The great gift of a share
In the light of Your infinite fruitfulness
And of Your divine fatherhood.
In the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Amen
How much more comfort than being well buzzed;
clarity and purity still intact!
You offer hope freely, fixing the fuzzed -
gift beyond gleaming gold bullion stacked.
I could almost laugh at my foolish ways,
except for the sharp weapons I'm wielding.
I shall only serve you so many days,
and yet to foul things I have kept yielding!
But your grace and your love are gravity
so much stronger than my idle dark dreams.
When I look honest at depravity -
how drained of meaning are its gaudy gleams.
Lord of light, Son of spring, Breath of fire -
your will shall become my choicest desire.
6 May 2023
The Prophet Jeremiah here truly speaks
being God's voice among the nations
spreading the truth of God for all to hear
as He does for many an occasion
God has planted here a choice vine
His own people, Israel, of a pure seed
they had the privilege of being His
and the choicest seed indeed to feed
But God's people have turned to folly
they have become degenerate no less
having grown into a wild vine
leaving nothing but soiled todress
No matter the quality of soap
or how hard they rub it to clean
their stain of guilt will all remain
for their sin will be there to be seen
God has declared this by His prophet
speaking by God's authority, He said
only by shedding perfect blood
can God forgive sin by His sovereign head
These words speak to this day
the stain of your guilt is still before me
only by being washed in Jesus' blood
for He died sacrificially on Calvary's tree
Not once did our physical paths ever cross,
nor heard we each others voice. But her
picture was observed after being informed
of her demise. After hearing the news, I did recall
that name Devonshire. But for the life of me, I could
not remember where or how, nor how long it had been.
I could not recall any communication via Poetry Soup.
So I searched the comments section-In/Out Boxes,
and found nothing from or to Carolyn Devonshire.
I could not let go of that name and continued searching.
I then wondered if maybe I had entered one of her contests.
It was there that I rediscovered Devonshire, and there, a whole new
world of beauty and inspiration began, taking an entirely fresh turn.
Indeed, our poetry paths had crossed rather pleasingly, and I proceeded to explore. I was pleased to realize that I had entered eight of Carolyn's contests in nearly three years. The first entry was themed, Happy 100th Birthday, and the title of my poem was 36,000 Days. I did not place in that first contest with Carolyn. However, the next seven contests would yield one 4th and one 5th placement, and five 3rd placements. I am blessed and truly honored to have been critiqued and judged by Carolyn Devonshire.
I was deeply moved when I discovered that the last contest was judged on March 1, 2021 and themed, "Vanishing". I was moved deeper still when I considered the first word of my poem's title-"GOODBYE Common Sense". At this point, it feels like I know Caroyn and her entire family, as tears fill my eyes. My condolences to the entire family, and may The Lord comfort you in your loss. Choicest blessing. Curtis, a friend.
081321PSCtest, Tributes to Carolyn, Constance La France
Tribute to a great poet. 1P
When prayers turn to pleas couched in a veil,
And pujas, covert pleas for His pardon,
When Bandagis beg— a bargain for a bail,
Worships aim for a vaunted place in sun;
When sacrifices seek choicest of fruits,
Charities search for a place in heaven,
Gifts get given to gain matching return,
Pilgrimage a pass-time, no search for roots.
Bless me Lord still, let my hopes breathe alive,
I pray thee that in peaceful sleep I rest—
Assured in luxury-laden a nest,
I pray that honey sweeten my beehive,
And as ye keep well-supplied my huge store,
I swear to love thee, if so, all the more.
____________________________________________
This sonnet is sung rather tongue-in-cheek and is a light satire on prayers that be veiled pleas for wanting something or the other and are not rendered as thanks-giving to God, as all prayers should be.
Sonnets | 17.11.08 |
Sometimes our attention will turn toward some of God's special creations that may cause our hearts to skip a beat or take one's breath away. Such was the case with me when one of God's choicest roses left me speechless and staring.
While chatting with a friend, I looked to our right and saw a mobilized rose bush* moving in our direction. It appears that I was more startled and enchanted by the beauty of the roses than by the animated movement. The roses were much lovelier than any that I had ever seen and were most beautiful, full of color, and downright stunning.
I did not speak to the rose but wanted to, nor it to me, but I heard it well in unutterable tones, and as I stared at it with wonderment, it watched me sheepishly. I was to some extent spellbound and for a while, I could not look away. There were also other flowers standing and some coming and going in a most orderly fashion, but none was as noticeable as the roses that came in our direction.
Indeed, for a few seconds, I forgot that my friend was standing there, and lest I be embarrassed, I discontinued staring at the one particular rose that had spell bounded me. I then turned toward the less eye-catching flowers, but that special rose continued moving toward my friend and stood next to him as I walked away. By then it was clear to me that they knew each other, but it was also clear to me that the rose was not available to me for acquisition, nor was I in a position to acquire that priceless rose.
It's been many a year since first seeing that mesmerizing rose of impeccable purity and refinement, so arresting and captivating of me as no rose, violet, lily, or lilac ever had before. Never had I encountered a flower so adorable and embracing.
I tell you, roses are my favorite flower, and many of them have graced my home for more than 22 years. I must confess that there have been times I have denied them proper care and adequate water supply due to drought conditions, but I love my long-standing roses dearly. Moreover, for a long season and more, I cannot forget that overwhelming rose that fixated and left me speechless more than 10 years ago.
120219PoSoup, (entry 072820)July NA HM Poetry, Constance La France. Your Best New Poem, Emile Pinet. NA . *fiction. 2nd contest(7/9/20), Strand Completely New 7, Brian Strand. NA
My busy muse I want always to please
For my taste buds it seems to have the keys
I bring out from within the deep freeze
Mouthful chunks of any one of these
Gauda, cheddar, or edam to appease
I’m fond of and crave for the choicest cheese
The first opportunity to eat I’ll blatantly seize.
If I’m writing a poem the ink’s flow will cease
I’ll forget to dot the i’s and cross the t’s
The unfinished poem will end as it is
The muse will fly away in the breeze
For it could not get the desired piece.
From luring slices relishing delight I’ll squeeze
I’ll do it for my muse with much joyful ease
As these will melt within the tongue’s crease
I’ll devour with pleasure the heavenly cheese
Finishing the poem the muse will be at peace.
__________________
May 12, 2022
Contrest : A Merger With Food
Sponsored by : Natasha L Scagg
Your age is not your enemy
It can be a remedy to greater success
Growing old can also be dangerous
But you are victorious because
You have gained wisdom so use it!
It is known that the years can wrinkle the skin
But to give up in old age can wrinkle the soul
Reclaim the passion for a curious nature
Your future chapters can be the best
So rise in your old age and
Get yourself out of that cage
Turn a new page and
Do not allow your age to stop
The production of the talents that exist within you
It’s good to know that God’s oldest have always been his choicest
Years fade and life ends
We must do what we came to do and
Maximize the moments in our lives!
Your age is not your enemy
It can be a remedy for greater success
Old age and talent is the greatest combination
Copyright 2024
Emaciated test-tube mutations
Raised apart in pristine distillations
Conceived in dexedrine celebrations
and the crazed, ecstatic inhalations
of the professor’s choicest pheromones
Right-angled, inverted, and star-spangled
Drained and dangled till their nerves were jangled
Nearly psychedelically strangled
Quantumly, at a distance, entangled
On celestially balanced microphones
Their unproven kaleidoscope harmonics
Haywire mk-ultra histrionics
Phosphoric rhapsodical symphonics
And their backward time-lapse polyphonics
Transcribed on interstellar xylophones
For homunculus scintillations
Splintered, syncopated oscillations
And desperate mute gesticulations
No one beats those galactic sensations
Our own mad-twin Splitzmodic Vibratones