Long Counterpane Poems
Long Counterpane Poems. Below are the most popular long Counterpane by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Counterpane poems by poem length and keyword.
Gentle sounds of rainy days,
Cool dampness on a counterpane
The memory of my childhood years, beneath a quilt of poetry
Stirs longing for that healing grace, that comes again upon the page...
A mother's touch with vapor-rub
Some toasted bread, a tender face
A playground out beyond the dew..
The dampened swing, my misty view..
A shadow was my childhood friend, and sick-bed days a game
Imagination flew so high, my carpet ride to magic lands
My tattered book of childhood poems, still takes me by the hand
.................................................
My first introduction to poetry...Robert Louis Stevenson's Childhood Garden of Verses
(A sick-bed keepsake that kept me company)
With the gentle sound of rainy days
I do recall the games I played,
while home from school, and when fevers brewed
when I was sick, and clouds ensued
to turn my stay in bed for days
Hands soothed my brow, and beads of dew
grew pearls of moisture, in rainbow hues
The window dripped, and I was sick,
but I didn't seem to mind a bit!
Sometimes I still can see it all...
the tiny dolls, and toys were strewn
upon the bed, around the room
where I was mending from the flu
Dampness on a counterpane,
thermometers and sounds of rain
will take me there......back home again...
The memory of childhood, lie
beneath a quilt of prose
stirs longing for that healing grace,
that comes again upon the page...
A mother's touch with vapor-rub
Some toasted bread, a tender face
A playground out beyond the dew..
The lonely swing, a misty view..
A shadow was my childhood friend,
those afternoons of sick-bed games
Imagination flew so high, a carpet ride to magic lands
I could look beyond the counterpane
Watch the sun come after rain
A tattered book of childhood poems, still holds me by the hand
.................................................
My first introduction to poetry...Robert Louis Stevenson's Childhood Garden of
Verses "The Land Of Counterpane"
(A sick-bed keepsake that kept me company)
For the contest: "Prose vs Poetry" sponsored by Jerry T Curtis
melancholic tidings—
optimism asystolic, now
fool’s paradise.
laconism stentorian
saline fluid agglomerating
“malignant” obfuscates,
formulates black stars.
fluttering, clouting
against ghostly pale tile.
aesculapian screams
circumnavigate weak cerebrum,
foxtrotting endlessly,
cold-blooded mockery.
serene bedrest
sinking linen counterpane.
morphing, suffocating
anaemic stature,
tasting like metal.
thrashing abnormal growth
actuate tunnels unending
i feel it.
i feel everything.
head encumbrance,
vessels strangulated,
blue skin a horror.
needle-punctured, scanned.
inhuman study. a specimen,
neglected medical non-priority.
fragile. no mind.
deteriorating. weaker.
sick. morningly.
please. help. ignored.
stained. vomit. pale.
monitor accelerating.
oxygen. chemotherapy.
please. help. me.
i. am. human.
bottom. medical. food. chain.
neglect. oxygen. oxygen.
oxygen. oxygen.
need. medicine.
nurses.
loud.
sonorous.
ringing.
light.
hunger. thirst. taste. smell. vision. touch. hearing.
taste. smell. vision. touch. hearing.
vision. touch. hearing.
touch. hearing.
dont. go.
hearing.
loud.
asystole.
Courageous are those in smallest rooms
Who stare at darkness and wildly plan
How a meal for six can be made tomorrow
From what might not nourish one slender man
Courageous are the women who lie so still
The very bones of their bodies ache
Rather than let their anxious men
Know that they too lie awake
Courageous are the men who work all day
To climb the walls, to make a gain
To keep them fed, against the rain
A brittle wind for counterpane
Yet praise their lives with some content
And fill with love what anguish spent
Submitted for Constance's mini contest...."Courage"
Alas! A pandemic on earth;
Spread over the earth like a counterpane
And feasts with no respect for personality.
Has the end come?
What manner of pandemic is this
That humiliated the world powers
And buried the head of idolised humans?
Has the end come?
Alas! A pandemic on earth.
The rich live in fear;
The proud ones became wingless.
Has the end come?
What shall I do to protect myself against thee?
Shall I turn hand washing to ritual?
Shall I humble myself before the creator?
Has the end come?
Alas! A pandemic on earth
Whose effect will soon become history
And trigger man to prepare his life's account.
Has the end come?