Long Countryside Poems
Long Countryside Poems. Below are the most popular long Countryside by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Countryside poems by poem length and keyword.
It's a lovely sunny day here in Scotland
on a day like this, I love to go away
use my bus pass travel wherever I choose
across our bonnie land have a splendid day
I am an avid reader of books or by kindle
so much to learn from gifted writers so bright
be history, biography, poetry or Christianity
such a feast to eat making sure of a good bite
Having been brought up in the countryside
I have always had the desire to walk
uphill or down dale looking at the scenery
the beauty of the greenery puts the mind in lock
Music has a way to fill us with ecstatic joy
my loves are varied since I was knee high
but now classical, country and worship music
holds me in rapt attention filling my sky
But my great love is with pen and paper
taking my thoughts to write a poetic rhyme
amazing how words can be so attractive
to bring such joy for me simply divine!
A retelling of Longfellow’s The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride too long unclear,
Not one lone horseman through April’s gloom,
But three who galloped with freedom’s doom.
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five,
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers well that fateful quest,
When liberty’s riders rode out to the west.
He said to his friends, “The signal’s near,
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the road will be ready to ride,
To wake the towns through the countryside.”
Then Dawes took saddle, a westward track,
While Revere turned north and didn’t look back;
And Prescott, waiting, would join before dawn,
When the British patrols pressed fierce and strong.
A friend in the belfry, tall and still,
Hung the lanterns high on the hill.
Two lights gleamed from the church’s tower,
And the riders were off in that midnight hour.
Through Charlestown streets the hoofbeats rang,
Past Medford farmsteads the summons sang,
Till window and door flew open wide.
“Up, ye farmers, awake!” they cried.
“Arm and gather, for war draws near!
The Regulars march with sword and spear!”
And the country folk, startled from bed,
Seized their muskets with faces red.
But lurking in darkness, the redcoats came,
A mounted patrol to end the flame;
And Revere was taken, his journey stayed,
Though bravely and loudly, the call he made.
Yet Dawes broke free with his steed still fast,
By wood and meadow the night he passed;
While Prescott vaulted the orchard wall,
His horse leapt high and out sped them all.
Onward he sped through Concord’s gate,
Shouting the word before ’twas too late:
“The soldiers are marching, the foe is near!
To arms! To arms! The time is here!”
From lantern’s glow to the farmyard’s cry,
The news went racing, mile on mile;
And farmers gathered with powder dry,
Their hearts aflame, their spirits high.
So when at the bridge the dawn was red,
And the first shots of the war were sped,
’It was Dawes and Prescott, whose midnight quest
Had summoned the people from east to west.
Therefore, my children, remember well,
The truth of the tale that history tells:
Not Revere alone through the dark he rode,
But Dawes and Prescott, who bore the load.
By Rick McGrath, Ph.D.
Inspired by Embryonic Journey by Jefferson Airplane (listen to it while you read this!)
On a winter's day
On a chilly morn'
I'll be mourning
The loss of a love once lost
The loss of a love once buried in the frost
At the behest of an angel
She'll come around at last
When the dinner bell rings
We'll walk along and sing
Songs of ancient writings
Found written on the walls
Of spiritual surroundings
Dancing in my mind
Swinging to the pendulum of time
To make her what was mine
Before the sound came crashing down
Like chandeliers of persistence
Glistening brightly in reflections
Of crystal on the table
Clinging glasses to a toast
For lovers entangled evermore
On majestic misty mountains
Where snow cascades down the countryside
Until it's reached the ocean floor
Where salmon swim upstream
To the tune of our dreams
While embryonic journeys
Pass through the corded ever after
To dream of light and day
While the children beat their drums
To the tambourine in time
While the father's watch unwinds
And the son is in the closet
Strumming songs with Jane
While the mother presses cotton
The daughter recites her magnum opus
To animals in repose
Upon her bedroom floor
She speaks in tongues long gone
Like a kiss from a rose
And then she's gone
To dream with the ancients until dawn
The Grocer and Dreamer
The local grocer calls his shop
The best supermarket in town
Although his shop is small
He has big dreams, sells jam
tinned beans, bananas, lemon
and chocolate cakes
He also sells local wine made
on a plot, run by his brother
In the morning, he has fresh
From a bakery that has few
Customers as it sells real bread
That is not packed in plastic
A big supermarket nearby
Will open soon
Our grocer, harassed by health
Inspectors every week sold
The shop to the new supermarket
They promptly closed his shop
The grocer who had big dreams
Bought a van and sells groceries
In the countryside
The kiss of a light snow whispers
Across the land, lighting the way
For this Christmas morning wonder
A caress of Winter’s soothing breath
Leaves me with a feeling of tenderness
Warmth from the fireside so hopeful
Naked branches peek from beneath
A layer of frozen, white flakes rustling
With the song of silence that echoes joy
Brilliant rays twinkle across glittering vista
Reaching beyond the shadowy thoughts
To hypnotize with peace in the heart
Emerald pines are swathed in frosty adornment
Fondling the needles like lacy sleeves of dreams
Beckoning through the forest with soft reveries
This Christmas snow gestures with fluffy, light
Tendrils of affection and inspiration, captivating
Thoughts with a penetrating feeling of love
Love this alive and moving only comes from One
Who we celebrate with a day of hope and faith
Peaceful light embraces the white land with worship
Worship for the One who gives hearts second chances
Lives the dance that thrives with piercing, rich intensity
That mystifies and delights the passion for a life in Christ
This Christmas, across a snow covered countryside
I celebrate the touch from a love that brings out the best
In all creation – the best thoughts, hopes and dreams
The best of everything – lights up this Christmas with
Blessings more fair than the snowfall on the ground
Snow that reminds us how blessed we are to know Love!
Her son died when he was but a child…it was way beyond her belief…
She wrapped him in her arms and walked around…unable to control her grief.
She walked from house to house…”I’m looking for medicine for my son” she said.
Some felt pity…some laughed saying, “Whoever heard of medicine for the dead.”
She finally wandered to the feet of a wise man…she cried, “Oh please wise one….
can you give me medicine…medicine for my son?”
The wise one said, “I will make your medicine…but you must travel the countryside…
And bring me grains of mustard seed from every household in which no-one has ever died.”
The woman was delighted…at last a way to bring her young son back to life….
but at the first house where she stopped …the man had recently lost his wife.
The woman listened to his story with sympathy…as he made his feelings known….
understanding the grief he still felt…was similar to her own.
And at every house she turned to…on every face…with every breath
She heard stories of long sicknesses…of tragedy and of death.
When she began this mission she thought she was alone…
that no one else had cared
But now she felt a little differently knowing the grief she felt was shared.
With tears in her eyes she returned to the wise one…her mission finally done
understanding the grief she had been feeling…has been felt by everyone.
She handed her son to the wise one…who was the first to understand her woe
Having found her grief a little easier to accept…
she found it a little easier to let him go.
Early in the morning you boarded it
and for a ride from Rock Island to Chicago.
tickets bought
for an outing
anticipated all week
First, it lumbered on the main track
through rail yards, warehouses, aging
factories where your fathers worked
as it clicked and clacked its way
out of town. It passed back yards
in East Moline where early morning
residents walked, secrets revealed.
You wanted to tell them there was
so much more
to the life they’d known
you were young
You were on summer break
from college and sharing
the journey with high school
friends on a Saturday off
from summer jobs
vistas of countryside
east of town opened
fields vibrant and green
After three hours a towering
skyline grew before your eager eyes
of Chicago, a city so great that each time
it stirred your imagination and after
you got off the train the Hancock Building
looked just blocks away
the mecca sought
reached into
open skies
You walked through the Loop
and by the El, overhead commuter tracks
past small ethnic restaurants and crowded
sidewalks where a woman with a shaved head
danced with her man and you gasped
o, a wonder of the music played
moment-by-moment
you embraced stories
each neighborhood revealed
You walked from hours to get
to your destination to go up
do the observation deck and
view other skyscrapers and
interstates web their way
through a metropolis as it
rose in the midst of fields and farms
just to the east
the sun shimmered
on an endless lake
Alone I sit and watch the snow
Its sound disturbs my sleeping cat
A soft, low hum so powerful
It dampens any care or woe.
Though I love the spring flowerful
Winter’s white charms can exceed that
A picturesque countryside chat
A fire, cocoa, a grand view
Made magical when shared with you
Fine dusting of powder on trees
Whispered low, “A dance, if you please.”
I am Ginger, gliding about
You my debonair Fred, no doubt!
Our dance religion, we devout.
My dress, ice blue, swirls and glitters
To the delight of cute critters.
We fall, exhausted, on the floor
Sad our bodies can do no more.
I drift off, satisfying sleep
Blurry vignettes the dreams I know
When I climb slowly from the deep
Alone I sit and watch the snow.
January 17, 2020
I am a beacon of light for my homeland. My quaint village, serene yet vibrant, is a haven of peace. The youth, with their carefree spirit, fill the air with laughter and song, unbothered by the world beyond. Even the birds know to respect the tranquility of our lives.
From the winding road that leads to the bustling city, the countryside remains unchanged. I love to gaze out and let my thoughts wander as I speed by in the fast-moving vans. My people, ever resilient, continue to drink from the well of life and mind their own business.
Today marks what would have been my late mother's 94th birthday. She was one of my favorite people, a true embodiment of our country's spirit. Rest in peace, dear mother.
With Christmas just twelve days away, I look forward to blending once again with my countrymen, like a well-orchestrated steel band. From New York to the Caribbean shores, no holiday celebration is complete without the melodious sound of the steel pan in Queen Park.
Whether we cry in a storm or dance in the rain, this time of year celebrates life and honors those we've lost. I am a ray of sunshine for my country's people. Merry Christmas, my beloved homeland.
Independent Heart
A riverbank, a farm, the field, wildflowers, birds, bees
The beautiful tall willow tree at the end of the farm
Blue sky, crystal air, countryside, childhood’s age of life
Unforgettable times, moments, years, beautiful past
Youth age, my past, dead hope and time, sad faithful life
It is good to remember my earliest fate in this life; oh life!
Live in nature is a blessing of life, a gift from the highest
Live in Nature is a way to the High; into the highest life
Oh Life, how and where can I find my life and only heart?
Freedom, Independence, nature, purity, honesty, crystal life
Just live, and live in a big garden, live the greenest life
… Remembering the clean life
A life
Beating
Far
Hearth