Long Concerto Poems
Long Concerto Poems. Below are the most popular long Concerto by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Concerto poems by poem length and keyword.
On the weary wings of winter
the northern winds depart disheartened,
their harsh whisper in the frozen air
the frost-fastened barren boughs hear,
“wait, you’ll listen the sweet music soon,
don’t despair, the serenading southern breeze
will embrace you with the melody of spring”.
The misty mask of ambience melts away,
turns the sky into a cobalt cauldron,
the ambrosia of spring descends,
drizzles sequined aura in the diaphanous air,
gossamer clouds gorgeously embroidered
with the wispy ribbons of regal robe appear.
Lured by their shifting shapes of soft shadow
the buds begin to unfurl the hued fresco.
Defoliated trees spring to vibrant life
after their verdant resurrection,
the sunburst sky sprays surreal spectrum
on the dew-crowned emerald meadow.
On the cadenced flow of joyous zephyr
floral fragrance finds the aromatic course,
trailing the beguiled butterflies flittering
in the rhythmic waves of spring symphony.
The wondrous southern winds waft enthralled
your scintillating scent to me,
alluring me with the moonlit magical trance
to the amorous ambience of your grace.
Its silver sequins pulsate with the refrain
of the mesmeric moonbeam concerto,
resonating with the echo of ecstasy
of your eternal spring sonata.
Rhapsody of rainbow
morphs melted
into morose mélange,
scattered in sullen sky.
Bleeding colors bleached
from twilight cloud
ruinous rainstorm daubs
as derelict blemish
on abandoned shards
of broken heart.
Shades of blue
permeate pining
frayed linen
of lost love.
Requiem of roses
resonates profound
in melancholic concerto.
Drooping petals languish
for dripping tear drops
of mourning dew,
desiccating dismayed
in somber sunshine
in deserted mind,
where for bracing
cold desolate stone
fallen flowers
make bouquet
for deceased passion.
Cacophony capsuled
in suffusing cauldron
of mute melody,
lost in tempestuous sea
of incongruent tune,
chaotic symphony
dismantles harmony
on discordant waves.
Synthetic smiles sneer
scarred scenario
of lonesome life.
Sanguine songs turn
to convoluted noise,
echoing in solemn soul.
Lattice of life
seen through
languid cynic lens
magnifies mystified
into crooked contortion
of eschewed essence.
Disturbed by the interruptions
He would be disrupted by my
Skill
Thrill of collaboration
When ones partners are
Determined and real
In that self satisfaction
If achieving a goal
What's in it for me
Ain't gonna work cause
We are not in control
Tallow shall disguise the
Earthy taste of the ostrich
and garlic and onions
Shall compliment it's already
beefy taste
the mushrooms and wines shall
Subdue the gameness
and crumbled bacon shall
Enhance it's taste
Cerleies and salts
With sun-dried peppers and
Sun-dried tomato's shall
Crust the external show'd
Display
We shall cheer with wines that
are appropriate and garnish
Shall accompany the display!
An anchovies and lemon sweet
caper sauce was an alternative
To the cowboy gravy show
I adored them both
But wanted the
Wagyu burger
I longed and lusted for it
One of the lady body guards
Bought six burgers
Up to the room after
The ice cream and cake show
I knew her Friend from Canada
He had been a Bouncer at my
Club in lobster town Maine!
Hollywood thumped with disco
I danced to a
Slutty Opera Tune
I love my wife
Aria Concerto
She make love just
Likes she dances
~In reply to Rick's prelude shown below~
I am your rose, free of thorns
walk beside me and conceive
our spirits mingling in love
hearts singing in perfect harmony
A sweet concerto beneath the stars
duet applauded by a haloed moon
in refrain, our kisses lingering
'ere the sun casts the glow of dawn
~ Rick's Prelude ~
'Ere the sun sinks
and thy love falls endless
may this moment pause in beauty
to ponder thy kisses
My scarlet rose of love
betake my spirit truly
as twilight falls gently
at last my heart sings
~June 29th, 2017
Eight Lines of Beauty~Lyrics
Sponsored by: Rick Parise
In bejeweled jade landscape
the topaz terrain rolls
as wondrous waves,
undulates with
sculpted panorama
of captivating cadence,
entrenches in earthen frame
the sprawling shape
of a placid lake,
sublimely sparkling,
the shining sapphire face
looking up entranced
toward the cerulean sky,
spread serene on
boundless blankness.
The southern zephyr
whispers enticing melody
to the rhapsodic ripples,
rolling aquatic rhythm,
intensely passionate,
stretching in seraphic span
of self-centric array,
sliding on slithering shadows
of the dancing trees,
lining the contorted contours
of the splashing shore,
emerald adorned.
Malachite lotus leaves
float flamboyant
with pulsating fervor,
the ruby flush
of full bloom
makes the collage
of fiery fresco
with fanning feathers
of flaming flamingos,
their ballerina legs wading
the lazuline waters
in avian grace,
supple napes swiveling
in charismatic concerto
of aquatic ballet,
rapturous recital
performed unruffled
in hypnotic gleam
of the setting sun,
chromatic spectrum
composes the sonata
for lacustrine opera.
Let us embrace
like twilight kisses the sun goodnight.
Indulge in hues of scarlet, crimson and lilac,
until the salutation of stars .
In the nothingness of silence,
our souls will whisper sweet symphonies,
as we flow with sensual tones of night.
Tenderness of touch will compose a concerto,
along the nakedness of your innocence.
I will hold you like a violin,
feel smooth sensations of your strings.
Pulsate like a passionate pianist,
caressing silky ivory and satin ebony keys.
Upon the first scent of dawn,
I will watch your heart sigh,
as you lay breathless in my arms -
and become the nature of my poetry.
Simple Musing
Silent One
23 October 2019
Hello Senorita
Ooh so glad to
Meet yah
Ahh vhoo lusting
Cum- Bach
To
Sir rento
Ah mi lussing!
Ooh she ooh she
Waking.
Will mi heart be
Breaking?
Cum-bach to
Sir rento
Mi Gussies
Sir rento men toe!
Come back to
Serrentio
Make love to
Me again.
She is a beautiful Ragdoll
mixed with a scottish fold
She meow's when the octaves
inspires her. Often my piano playing
has a rapid transition
(I'll Plung when I should Pling)
The Utterance of romance
sends her clawing at my date.
yet she's a sweet kitty!
Yes she is!
Ah yeah mi Darling
Mi need for you
Is calling
Come back to
Serrentio
I will introduce
Us as friends.
Ooh; I so
Hoochie Choochie
Give you sum
Pussy
Cum Bach to
Serrentio
I pussy you
Again!
Compussed by
Swig Nasty
Morehead music company
Excuse to not loving mi.
Mi bassoon concerto
in cacophony continuum
incongruent noise draft navigates
the decibel waves
beyond the fringe of discernment
n u m b e d
while the sense of frenzy
feels the quieting caress
f o r l o r n
of still calmness
as the halcyon emotive sagacity
sinks slow in hermit serenity
u n e x p r e s s e d
in the remote impulsive recess
of the mute mind
i n s e n s a t e
disparaging dissonance
finally fades away
in the twilight zone
as the vibrato of the last spectrum
echoes in the sonata of solitude
finds nascent niche
t r a n q u i l
strikes reticent concord
s e n s u o us
in the concerto cord
of the harmonic harp
as the taciturn voice of essence
serenades the lilting lyric of the last mile
in the sanctum of silence
s e r e n e
*** OF AND ABOUT IT ALL ***
Life’s so much a-coming or a-going,
With hours of waiting or flowing
From now to next
While we step about, hopefully blessed —
On a quest for things major or minor to cherish
In our sometimes to come. We sojourn thence
From this place over to a rushing creek’s edged cliffs—
To linger, to draw some solace, some rest…
And there, we see suddenly manifest:
The sacred red rose, growing
Near, beautifully on high,
Surrounded by the flames of our worship-full prayers.
Life’s a range of highs and lows waving
Aside the roads that fork and lead ventures
Along moss-lined knowns
Or beneath shaded canopies of unknowns.
Our searching, dawn-to-dawn roamings
Carry life’s tales of getting and giving;
Suffering and forgiving;
Ever grateful for living and breathing.
Life brings mapped ways that vacillate
Over ranges of changes; lessons
And puzzles; ideas, moods and feelings
Immersed in working and dreaming of someday
Realizing true love — wondrous, sweet.
From birth and learning to stand, to speak…On to
Old-age dimming our eyesight as happens…
Even to such gifted artists as
Edgar Degas, Mary Cassatt, and Claude Monet.
Yet, they went on painting masterpieces, nearly blind —
With God’s inspiration helping them to find
A new approach, perceiving and creating
With their Inner Eyes.
Life’s an orbiting
Between reality and imagining;
Between perchance and possibly —
Between the often said, “If-only’s…”
And the magical, “Look there
At what’s already appeared.”
Life’s a calendar of playing and celebrating,
But includes sad times and final wakes…T’is
Somewhat a dizzying dance of circling turns,
Of rounding passes for however long
Until that unknown day of going on beyond…
Taking our storied hours along,
Relating how we stayed
Alligned to God’s willed ways,
For the good of the All and Everlasting,
From our toddling time
To our leaping with starlit promises
To compose a delighting song,
Unfurl wings and fly —
Eternal
————————————————————————-
(c)sally young eslinger 11/8 /2022 - 1/12/2
Written to Bocchenini’s Cello Concerto in B-flat major
Thanks be to God…
After the Occupational Therapist told me I’d never walk again (see my poem “What She Said”); I was in shock, but my being turned to my ballet days to recall when my legs were strong and I immediately wrote this, while listening to The Butterfly Concerto. It is a poem of my courage.
“THE DANCE OF THE BUTTERFLY”
Oh! How she sparkles through her dance!
Tchaikovsky himself gazes from the stage’s wings
Applauding the height and instants of hesitation
Of her punctuating arabesques. He applauds
With his hands in his pockets, tapping the sides
Of his thighs and a tear of appreciation rises
In his eyes. There can be no doubt she has caught
The audience in her fluttering net, in her crossings
Of the stage so carried by the violin’s sweeps
Of the scales and the flute’s endearing notes
Of imitating a breeze-buoying flight.
But it is the ballerina herself who sets the gold
To crown his composed inspiration as she
Performs a pas de deux with his concerto!
The violin marks each pointe set to her chines.
The orchestra is a narrative riding her eclipses
Of beauty. The timpani exclaims her leaps.
With port de bras, from bow to extending reach,
Her arms become marigold wings...and
Her elan lifts her heart to address the stars.
The young girl, with her head above, yet sunken into,
The soft, cloud-like folds of her pillow, listens
To the riveting Butterfly Concerto sound up
Through the foam of her pillow
(Where her radio will not bother her parents)
...And her shoulders
Slightly rise with each crescendo. She inhales
At the peak of every releve, and, with a lifting of
Arms to barely cross above her head —
In elegant elan — before a rapid circling of the stage.
The music’s tempo mounts to conclusion. She
Takes an instant to feel she is performing her
Best...Surely, oh, surely,
Tchaikovsky, stands rapt
Aside the curtain wings, applauding.
**********************************
by sally Young eslinger 8/25/2020
Thanks be to God!