Long Conifer Poems
Long Conifer Poems. Below are the most popular long Conifer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conifer poems by poem length and keyword.
Rising Beyond
by Odin Roark
Sadness shackled his heart
Dry eyes did forever weep
Pain knowing no release
Death seducing reason
How often he had tried
The purge of wounded breath
Remaining dormant
In lungs long exhausted
His voice inhabited silence
His spirit roamed homeless
Days came and went
Without sunrise or sunset
This day he did climb
Through conifer and juniper
Traversing granite cracks
As voices of the wind bade summons
Atop an airless summit
He did stand
Nature’s cardinal points
They did beckon
The west
Held cloud mixed sunshine
The east
Did lightning strike
From north and south
Did arched rainbow appear
From his pocket he did draw
Silver vessel forged ancestral
Its contents of ash expectant
His grieving fingers unsteady
Ghostly cremains rose skyward
Cherished spirit did soar
Lightning’s echo vented quiet
Airless summit found chorus
She was free
Oldest tree,
where Black River old-growth weathers
wetland over millennia.
Your ancient sinker roots
in dank swamp muck.
Primordial conifer,
Are you the sacred tree of Artemis,
or part of Aristotle’s potential actualizing?
What epic epoch do you realize?
What timeworn bones in your woodland knobby knees?
Your primeval bark peels the pages.
Your hoary trunk holds the saga in wooden tissues
of flood and drought, fire and freeze.
Patient and resolute, growing, undergoing,
unrelenting in the passage of episodes.
The endless patterns of wild came and died.
You watched liars lie and cheaters cheat.
You watched men in war and peace like brief mosquitoes.
What human acquaintance impressed you?
Was it Native Americans you first encountered?
Your bare boughs advance aloft in steady penetration,
a secret sapience silently submitted.
We, the fleeting fevered furious might grasp
your stable constant lessons of careful exhibition.
You reach ever and ever for larger continuance,
pending purpose for your conscientious growth.
Life’s intention is your sufficiency.
Flourishing in your adapting seasons.
Yes, we too can reach and rise in rapture.
CHRISTMAS TREE
A decorative tree, Usually
In the winter time
developed in early modern Germany
Traditionally
A Christmas tree
Is a decorative tree, And usually
It is an evergreen conifer
One such as a Spruce, Pine or Fir
Christbaun
A Christmas tree
Taking of these kinds of trees in the homes
In the later half of the nineteenth century, still goes on...
Decorated trees with roses made of colored paper apples waffles tensile and sweet meats
Apples and round ornaments fruit of knowledge of Good and Evil
Representing the Book of Genesis to be illuminated by candles
ultimately replaced by Christmas lights after the Advent of electrification
There's a wide variety of traditional
Ornaments
A Christmas Tree
Covered with garlands, baubles, tinsels and candy canes
And a Star or Angel would be placed at the top of the tree
Oh What a Beautiful Vision this would be
This star would represent Archangel Gabriel
Awesome may felt the Star would represent
That of the Nativity Star of Bethlehem
A Christmas Tree
Oh, Edibles of gingerbread yum, chocolates would be held on the tree
Tide by branches with ribbons
All this is done on the first day of Advent
Customs of the same faith hold to traditional
Days what's celebrated sake
A Christmas Tree
Also known as Yule-tree
Set up every winter time for you and me
So before the the 18th century German initiation custom
Tree worship was common among the early European pagan
Trees Reese and Garland symbolizes eternal life
Oh that smell of Evergreen all around the house smells fine
Stand up a tree for the birds during this time
All Beauty this be
This...
The Christmas tree
This the origin the how's and when's
We stand, we set up
The Christmas Tree
For Contest: CHRISTMAS TREE
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
12/12/17
2017©
Decorating Silence
by Odin Roark
How deafening the stillness
Where once did tinkling chimes hang above
Welcoming doors opening
When snow-clad galoshes padded innocently
While a snow covered canine
Did wag
Did pant
Did shake
How distant the Lionel train
Making its rounds about the tree
Its smoke stack puffing
Its timid whistle sounding
How comforting
The fragrance of conifer drippings
The string draped popcorn boughs
The reflective glass balls of red
Green
Yellow
And clear
How memorable these reflections
Love’s time past
When simple butcher paper
Newspaper
Brownbag wrapped gifts
Needed but a piece of red string
To bring a smile
Aged appreciation nods
Snapshots remain
Remembrance fixes frozen moments
Standing warm and supportive
Rising from the flames
How faithful my fire
The stone encased resuscitator
Able to keep safe
Those undulating mirages
Never out of reach
Always ready to arouse
Performing the yearly dance
Beneath moist overcast eyes
Ever glistening
Time fades
Fireplaces stand ready
Nostalgia’s faithful friends know well
Decorated silence remains
But a simple rekindling away
The lake surfaces between mammoth bones.
The valley once was a bowl for giant daisies
and the conifer roots of a deepening sky.
Wind-blown ripples feed the open mouths
of minnows, the small waves shuffle them around
like silver clouds,
more billowing swells fill the red gills of the trout
with a silent ecstasy.
The sunlight is rich with the minuscule bones
of long risen memories
they are a salt-lick on the tongue.
Upon the shoreline,
small stones take the form
of great, restless beasts,
dinosaurs that once trod upon these waters
and now lightly thread through
a needle of timeless air.
Terraform, revolve thee thrice.
Shape the world and go.
Poisoner, bail with thy splice.
Carrion, my crow.
Doubtless, O derision.
The end will come with mirth.
Ingrate! Indecision!
Exactly what we're worth!
Choose a path, eagle, and fly.
Straight if you can plan.
Death god, do ye rule the sky?
Belladonna, ban.
Coyote, thy trickery.
Fancy-free, south sea.
Benefits are pure mercy?
Get on them and be.
Holy savior, thy best line.
Anytime, sunshine.
Ocean water, blind is brine?
Boiled to their refine.
Crocus flower, love. Above?
Push, next door to shove?
Carapace, O turtledove?
Well, it's best thereof.
Singular? Murmur, occur?
Frankincense, thy myrrh.
Reality, pass in blur?
O ogre, thy fur!
Conifer, cathedral. Floor?
O downpour, thy roar.
Chosen people, at the door?
Lettuce, have some more...
the silver birch
it likes to hide
so as you search
at eventide
you find it there with many friends
playing poker through the night
the common oak
a wise old man
an aging folk
since time began
grandfathers of the forest they
speak myth and folklore when they can
the sycamore
with helicopter seeds
sets out its store
among the weeds
then grows to be big and strong
from people’s picnics on which it feeds
the horse chestnut
is the conker tree
the children’s favourite
but too spikey
until they are ready later on
and why kids were late home for tea
the yew
is old
and grew
so slow
its age is in millennia
and battles from the archer’s bow
the hawthorn
its blossom white
and at dawn
as if it snowed all night
then all too soon the white has gone
a desperate case of bad stage fright
the conifer
fir, spruce and pine
a regular
likes mead and wine
to keep it warm in winter then
comes into homes at Christmas time
Listen to the stream hits the rocky bed
Competing the sound of insect spreads
The spring wind swings conifer trees
In the valley composed a soft melody
The sound of greenish tops hit by water
Up and down like the heart pulse meter
Refreshes a cool and clean surrounding
On the downhill sounds the whistling
Life of the stream couldn’t consider
Just moved on by the natural manner
Like a lonely man travels to somewhere
An upcoming event couldn’t be aware
Here and now displays a lovely scene
The heart beats delight in neat green
The future of the stream is uncertain
Actual happiness, here on the mountain
Inside the forestry of his heart I live
inhaling the scent of his deep woods
I could never fill those Timberlands boots
nor explain the thrill that he provides
when he arrives at the grove of my soul
and whispers, "Darling, I love you "
softly cloaked and protected by his pine
I am evergreen in moments like these
Existing in this charming jungle of love
I could never retrace my steps, for
arriving in this place of no return
I feel as suitable as a thriving conifer
Inside this evergreen existence, I just am
breathing in the fragrance of his loyalty
I feel like a woman in love, ...
After a lifetime of bending, to his will
I am the wind that blows on his heart
when I get to him, I just breathe...
© 2010 (Jim Sularz)
A morning meadow - tall, red-yellow speckled,
now, humbled low by the wind.
Conifer sundials – mirrored shadows, slowly stretching, dancing, and then diminishing - along blurred edges of a lush, flowing sea.
Feathered, high flying eagles soar, circling small and wide, against a blue, white pillowed sky.
… a crow caws.
Nuzzled prairie dogs, with tethered tails, scamper for cover,
for danger spirals, just above.
Harvester ants marching in tiny zigzagged columns,
tunnel an ever deepened colony -
twisting around creviced rocks and roots.
Lightning fast gragonflies – thin tinsel winged airships,
darting, spinning, some kissing.
And white petite wild-flowers,
bobbing from honey bees, stand quivering.
Multi-colored butterflies flutter, undecided,
and brown-helmeted grasshoppers oddly peer -
like praying mantises, eager to leap.
Chirping sparrows, with cocked tails,
sand-bath in a warm, thirsty, summer sun.
And cat-tails, bursting, pierce through a sparsely wooded island.
A distant thunder-clap, and crawling, flat, anvil-headed clouds -
slide down majestic, snow-capped mountaintops,
marking the hour, like clockwork, this time of year.
Dusk comes, bathed in a warm, orange-amber hue,
waxing and waning with a melting sun.
A red fox stirs, finding at twilight’s gate, fresh promising scents, for her young.
And black masked raccoons steal away, through soft, cool moonlit grasses –
in a hushed, clown-like parade . . .
As I dwell in this sanctuary of place and spirit,
beneath an infinite, star-painted canopy.
I know with certainty - of mind, heart and soul,
that when God’s rainbow palette had hardened and dried -
All were - Forever One.