Long Contentedly Poems
Long Contentedly Poems. Below are the most popular long Contentedly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Contentedly poems by poem length and keyword.
Morning Fog
This morning
when there is much to do inside,
there is fog outside my window.
The fog I sought two mornings ago
that caused me to dash to the car
in hopes I could grab a coffee
and sit by the lake,
witness to the softening of the world,
treetops indistinct, not yet awakened from their dreams.
By the time I reached the street
rain had dissolved,
captured,
drunk up the tiny molecules
of water playing fog.
I like rain, too, so I stayed on the road,
found myself coffee and a breakfast
by a temperature controlled fireplace.
Despite the rain, the little cafe
quickly became peopled
and I had to move on.
The soft shield of fog
was what I was hungry for,
not the food I left half eaten.
The desire to be
fogged in, alone or companionable,
putting thoughts to paper
or contentedly one
with the downy view,
the lack of detail,
the absence of certainty,
the enveloping moisture
making all things
remember
what it was like to be born.
We are all born
In some kind of moisture --
pushing through the dark damp soil,
or squeezed through a tunnel of flesh,
causing someone pain
for the first of many times.
Or we peck our way through
a fragile/sturdy shell,
wet with possibility,
or we're loosed with a hundred siblings
into a salty waterscape of danger,
calculating our chances.
For all of us,
our first vision must be a little foggy,
our possibility of success unclear.
But
every foggy morning
crawls into my soul
to whisper
what it could be
to be reborn.
It’s early morning…I’m looking into empty bedrooms…
when I smile…stop…and stare…
Although our children have all grown…I can see them sleeping there.
We’ve read them a bedtime story…they’ve long since lost count of sheep
when we peek into their bedrooms and pause…to watch them sleep.
In those quiet moments of the evening…as light seeps in from the hall
we wonder how we can be filled with so much love…
for someone so innocent…and small.
There’s a quiet stillness in the air…all sound and activity has ceased.
Our children are safe, secure and happy…their life calm…
their world at peace.
It is a wonderful moment…yes…it is as beautiful as it seems…
when we, the parents, smile contentedly as we watch our children dream.
Then softly, lovingly we close the door…knowing this memory will keep
until the next night when we pause again…to watch our children sleep.
I imagine parents all across the world find this moment enchanting and appealing…
Yes, for parents of every nationality, color, race, gender and sex…this is a universal feeling.
Which makes me wonder…would our world would be different…
would our hatred still run as deep…
If rather than looking at our differences…we compared notes on how our children sleep.
I pray for the day this evil blanketing the world with hatred and bigotry…will cease…
for the day we can stop comparing stories of how our children die in war…
And instead…compare stories of how they sleep in peace.
Soaring above the lake of my summer home.
Bringing back supper from arduous roam.
The oak trees lined the lake with beauty so serine.
With birds of life flying into the trees as they sing.
I gently land slowly on a pristine mirrored lake.
As my feet skid on the water, creating a wake.
Majestically, my wings flared open for my gentle rest
My young hatchlings swam to me as they leave their nest.
Gently, I nudge them back to our sacred abode.
Sharing worms with them as their beaks take hold.
Contentedly, I sighed as my love for them fills my heart.
Soon, sadness will come as they will be ready to part.
Until then, I will guide them into this life of beauty that never ends.
As I, a mother, will always watch them with love and lament.
Day-32 “Word of the Day”
Hold it in your hand
Let its touch heal your anxiety
It has a nice ring
It rhymes with divinity
Inhale the fragrance
Of its wonder
Let it baptize your soul
It rhymes with contentedly
Seize the breeze
That rustles the leaves
Of galaxies far
It rhymes with eternity
Capture a sunset
In Yosemite
Savor its glow
It rhymes with heavenly
Play a flute
On a grassy knoll
Let the sheep know your call
It rhymes with breathlessly
Wrap your arms
Around her
Tell her you love her
It rhymes with ecstasy
Gift yourself this word
Joyful its peace
Beautiful its tranquility
Is but
“Serenity” 7/21/2020 #58
Without the sun, sleeping;
perhaps dreaming, in the grasp
of a brown boy's clasp.
Boy’s head in the crook
of his bent elbow;
his lighter skin contrasts
with his chocolate shirt,
buttoned at the wrist.
He leans contentedly,
over the wooden chair,
whilst the head of the sunflower
with wide open sunshine,
dreams that it’s a gift
given by God,
and gladly sleeps
and dreams
until awakened.
The room’s quiescent darkness
like a warm womb.
The breast of the flower’s stem
leans close to the chair;
large green leaf, rolled;
smaller leaf, chewed.
The boy’s hands in contrast
of light and dark.
Modeling the innocence in sleep,
the one where a mother, or an artist
falls in love once again, and again,
and over again…
God, love each of these children,
given from above.
We wait for the flower to stand up;
one day a man will be as straight
as the chair; and weathered and worn.
For now, and until the end,
he will sleep on a private collector’s wall
or perhaps be sheltered in a museum.
In A Perfect World
There once was a perfect world The future will yield yet another world of perfection
We shall not presently bother with the former perfect world,
Nor even shall we engage ourselves with a future one
Moreover, in a perfect world, War industries have ceased; farming machinery now blossoms
I see no wars but peace abounding; I see only love and no hate, food and provisions for all; clean air, clear water; no poverty
No earthquakes, firestorms, and no tragedies
Everyone of earth’s 6 billion plus sleeps in peace and eats contentedly
I see rain in due season; no destructive ocean storms for any reason
There is no United Nation, nuclear proliferation or Mutually Assured Destruction; no bombs, guns, and tanks
I see no fighting over ranks, but giving of thanks
Jails and prisons are obsolete, there’s no criminal to seek
The evil hearts and the proud heads have disappeared; and the world has opened its arms for the pure and meek
Travel and touring are vastly popular, and planes never crash
There’s no CIA or covert operations anywhere; no terrorism blasts
There’s no more pain; no sicknesses or outbreaks killing masses
It’s a world of beasts and birds; one of insects and fish
They roam the air, the sea, the vast jungles and wilderness
None are wild nor eat each other, but feast the land’s bounty
02112016PS Contest, In A Perfect World
A mystic rose smile that belonged to my mother this is what I recall
My easel and I resting in the spirit, by the grandeur of a morning tilt. As the
Yellow sunrays streak across the canvass, I think of Lamancha
Saffron and mom's tasty soups. Contentedly I paint away until a
Ticklish breeze brings me back to present stay. A lifetime away still I recall the
Indian sari she wore with shades of orange/gold lamer. Lustrous hair pulled
Carefully back, exposing two dark coaled eyes that shone like brightly lit topaz .
Red carnelian sun in tonal ranges splashed across a tapestry of love
Oxidized colors melding into the portraiture of Sahana, Matriarch of Bangalore.
Smiling at the camera a thousand watts from Lalbagh Botanical Gardens. Her
Energy exhumed inside the sketch my recollecting fingertips
Subservient hands cupping my tiny face, "My little turmeric "
Maybe you'll be an artist some day, she spoke with her eyes
I like to think she was the reason I succeeded. Her every word a
Laud accolade. I remember the day I held my first paintbrush
Every time I pick one up today, I think of my mom and a village called Aluru .
November 19, 2021
Viv had planned to be out supping real ale
But his wife had a different idea
Furniture assembly - Viv's face turn pale
but he gritted his teeth, and said ‘yes dear’
Alas, to poor Viv's utter dismay
the instruction booklet could not be found
With stiff upper lip, it won't mar his day
His ******** expertise will astound
So Viv got to it, banging and screwing
to achieve an outstanding ********
Celeste the cat’s contentedly mewing
Watching Viv work to utter perfection
Viv's DIY skills were put to the test
He reached his goal with no help from Celeste!
Poem based on Viv's blog
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/blogs/blog_detail.aspx?BlogID=33348&PoetID=62162
My ONLY sonnet in 2018
3/8/18
("Anagogical Moments Merit Badge" #39, 2011, original oil)
As Above So NOT Below
The tripartite world of material appearance
Sandwiched between the infinite depths
Of the unconscious
And infinite expanse
Of transcendent supraconsciousness
Encompasses all that is and isn’t
Known and unknown
Desired and undesirable….
Confused, turned upside down
By our own inverted perceptions
Most of us contentedly live
Lives of ignorant bliss
Even though it’s more often one of suffering
Nestled securely in the middle
Within the sandwich of two ineffables
High and low.
And then there are the few
Driven for whatever perverse reasons
To escape the safe and mundane
Striving for transcendence
Most often settling instead for descendence
Into the unconscious.
This is the easy path after all
The downward path of gravity
Earth Mother
Universal womb
And holy bhaga.
And so we go
Tempted by The Fates to strive
In whatever way they guide us
For the unattainable
Or that which once attained
Dissolves all other….
And so we rise
You and I against all odds
Against the force of Nature
Somehow turned upside down again
Totally mixed up and thus righted
In our confusion
Breaking for a surface
Which holds the light
A surface dividing
The above from the below
The earth from sky
The Mother from Father
Our past from future.
Rising, propelled with the last trace of breath, prana, chi
To break the surface
And cycle of existence
To finally at last break free.
To take another
And dive again.
(11/23/23)
In dreams I'm offered interludes of solitude
where worries are calmed in total quietude
I'm swimming in the depths of a placid night
so don't wake me from my whimsical flight
I'm in still waters, where lotus flowers grow
It's soothing to be among their saffron glow
I'm being gently lulled by the motion of waves
Serenity is the healer that my psyche craves
I find soft glimmers of repose and satisfaction
away from the world's dark fretful distraction
In these moments my heart has sweet release
while I drift along in some semblance of peace
In dreams time stands completely still, so I laze
contentedly floating while my eyes stargaze
Flickering fireflies generously luminate my way
Within these solitary intervals, I wish to stay
I've been told that I'm frivolous to waste time
but dreaming is an indulgence I find sublime
Just a Moment Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
Posted on July 28th, 2020