Long Cradling Poems
Long Cradling Poems. Below are the most popular long Cradling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cradling poems by poem length and keyword.
brushed by the blushing Fontainebleau,
blooming with rainless foliage,
like a poem kissed by the green…
I sigh as thoughts wander
in saffron silence,
in the echoing warmth
of your breathing silhouette...
we are beyond wraiths of wildflowers,
waltzing through the wilderness,
sipping honeyed drops of sunlight,
whilst specks of citrine
soar above olives~
merging in mystical mists of magnetic gold,
oblivious to the spectral leaves
thriving within inner forests,
veiling the vindictive vines
painted with ice-corpse colors of life.
O time, cloaked in cryptic clouds~
in a world that cares not for the forgotten,
let the fields of fervent petals
dress the untouched trees
with butterfly-blue blurs,
as peace is more than a mere noun,
nestled between framed figs…
and to heal is to heed the harmonized~
hymns mirroring soft springs of Eden,
where l o v e is an aesthetic array
ribboned with amorous emeralds~
scattered across meadows
lost in redolent reveries.
I speak to the breeze,
cradling the balmy boulevard
in hushed tones~
to unfreeze the wintry thistles,
to untangle complex chords of woes
piercing the pained canvas
aching within my mind..
for in the layered heart
of external pleasures,
there I’ve found the palette~
that homes not regrets and troubles
but elevates the m a g i c
of sketched solace…
the verdant of swirling hope
fine-tuned strokes of sage~
sun-soaked distraction,
a memory of soulmates
tied
to the timeless roots
infused with trust ...
And those members of the body which we think to be less honorable, on these we bestow greater honor; and our unpresentable parts have greater modesty, but our presentable parts have no need. But God composed the body, having given greater honor to that part which lacks it, (I Corinthians 12:23, 24 NKJV)
It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were thrown into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones. (Luke 17:2 NKJV)
To dishonour the honourable
To abuse it's innocence
A forever fact
Is an evil cradling.
The offence of sexual abuse
Bruises the tender parts...
Of the heart
And soul
And mind
And smile.
But healing comes from the God-view
That the dishonoured has greater honour
That He is the avenger
For those whom lack.
And there is much provision that heals...
The heart
The soul
The mind
The smile.
To those dishonoured...you have great honour from the One most entitled to give it.
I Reckon Eyes Personal Necessity,...
Sans Arduous Ordeal
To assess meager
cradling aborted efforts
miscarried ambitions, I now berate
myself plethora sans lack
of accomplishments to date
and admit painful truth to self
of an ill prosperous lx roam man fate,
which life frivolous erratic
antics less productive slate
than if existence spent hovered
over an inter city heating grate
since squelched milestones wrought hate
red of apathy toward self, and spate
of penuriousness a tete a tete
meager financial cushion barely
keeps homelessness will ne'er abate.
~ April 13th, 1958 marked approximate initial
biological, chronological, and fetal ugh glue
tin nation, asper obstetric
prenatal confirmed commencement, in situ
i.e. womb (donned in his cute
itty bitty cap and gown), whence through
uneventful conception nine months
later lacked any blues clue
nonetheless, this earth
ling christened Matthew
Scott Harris made his unheralded debut,
albeit, then his
anatomical timer immediately
started counting down, loo
ping what seemed an eternity,
when mortality would be due,
vis a vis, meanwhile,
he awakened, discovered,
and galvanized transient
tenancy as he grew
since birth year month, and
date stamped upon this growing hue
man, who possibly felt thrust
out from warmth of womb
into ice cold sterility naked
like an Arctic monkey freezing in an igloo
a singular diaspora of
this "FAKE" gentile jew.
Is Santa coming?
Can you hear above
Are reindeer running?
Bring presents of love
Why’s mother crying?
Cradling her son
The world is lying
No peace for anyone, anyone!
Is Santa coming?
Or is it a lie?
No one is smiling
Although we all try
That noise above you
Is not quite what you think
That sound above you
Is killing everything, everything!
I thought this was the time of year
When everyone lives without fear
I thought this was the time of year
When everyone lives without fear!
Without fear!
Angels are calling
Can you hear their sigh
The snow is falling
White petals on high
They build a snowman
Place a carrot for his nose
Black coal for eyes
Slippers for freezing toes
Freezing toes!
David Cox 07/12/24
H U G S
H Human embracement
U Unconditional loving
G Greatest kind healer
S Silent tender caresses
Mind soul H Harmony quiet surrender
Cradling U unsinkable caring emotion
Blessing G grateful tender acceptance
Promise S serene hope and shelter
Compassionate olive branch H
African communal Ubunthu U
Kisses from lips never ending G
Unsurpassed sweet kindness S
05th June 2020
In African cultures Ubunthu stands for humanity
It embraces communal togetherness
‘I am because we are’
life had written an etude in D minor and barely gave him a pass
D for defeat denial disintegration dour reprise of the inevitable
bottom of the class for society sang to its dominant song book
while he was tone deaf and kept quiet hiding a coarse inner voice
his internal melodies sounded like a rusty cheese grinder on arrest
detained him after school hours to punish his apparent shortcomings
but it is difficult to make fine parmesan from blue veined fromage
and the blues of his childhood suffered under cruel constant assault
´the boy has got no sense´ and the child was never spared the rod
when all he wanted was a bit of cane sugar yet he did not suck up
to their blows which knocked out a few teeth in the long process
that laid the cruel basis for his trademark cheeky and sardonic smile
´when you have grown you will show gratitude for our kind efforts
to change your attitude and give thanks to our shaping your mould´
as it came to writing music-sheets he scripted them in lemon juice
secret messages because when life gives acidity you have a choice
one teacher was gentle with him and gifted him sour boiled sweets
for every time he hit a note from his own repertoire of aspirations
he almost chocked on such a gesture of compassion and novelty
breathed out slowly and poured out his heart in cacophonic sorrow
‘I might never become a tambourine major or master of ceremonies
no choral conductor or symphonic regent in other's marching bands
my choir will be a small ensemble and quality strikes vocal-chords
right where they need caressing and cradling but not false elocution’
‘if I can wipe the cheesy grimaces off the face of my crude tormentors
so be it then´ but this is in truth not about a vicious viscous fondue
gratitude has to be earned and thanksgiving follows genuine kindness
attitudes meanwhile may change or strengthen ´for this is my music´
A composition in Roquefort major with walnut crumble and cherries
on my cake and some can see clearly the grinder has its own purpose
when pungent milk turns into custard and some have egg on their faces
‘Its not about perfection but progress is built on effort and appreciation´
26th August 2020
One memory, found, has cradled this moment,
exquisitely composed with infinite detail.
Once lost with disease,
it is briefly retrieved,
just for this moment, before it is gone.
She smiles as she holds it,
as if it has pleased her,
a small golden flashback
to fondle awhile.
It came from the darkness,
like a small shaft of light,
on a small mote of dust
that has tumbled in flight
Poised in the sunlight
it has cradled the moment
But, then is forgotten
while it falls out of sight
back into the shadows
that cradle the night
________________________________________________
7/5/16
Contest: Cradling the Moment
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Pavement cafe, nine fifteen cradling a coffee (as you do)
from my left the china doll with clicking heels strode into view.
Tempting lips kissy-kissed with crimson, cheeks caressed
with blush, and poreless,
painful teasing made those scimitars for eyebrows nigh on flawless.
Hair of sunlit copper billowed like an Eton teacher's gown,
open trench coat followed suit as china hurried into town.
Head turned sideways, in each shop window she looked at her reflection
checking for the slightest hint of any sort of imperfection.
So wrapped up in herself, my my, how deep self worship had bit you
that you didn't see the lamp post until suddenly it hit you-
walked straight into it with quite a clang at such a rapid pace
recoiled, lurched back, bewildered- it was then I saw her face.
The laughter from the passers-by just made it even worse
as, shaking, she sat down near me and fumbled in her purse.
Tearful now,still reeling from her public humiliation
she got the make-up mirror out for damage limitation.
Haughtiness gone, the facade broken sat lovely Amanda,
legs like a flamingo but her right eye like a Panda.
This banyan tree on the wayside pasture
boughs cradling the nests secure
the birds of blue return,
verdant foliage making shade serene
the scorched travelers rest awhile,
the tree revels in pride.
The winds of harsh time take the toll
gaping trunk wrenches the soul,
defoliated, the skeleton stands stripped.
The birds don’t return,
the travelers pass by,
in sorrow the shadowless tree tracks the setting sun.
Until the storm comes
lays the tree on the ground it stood so long firm,
shovels scrape the soil, fills the void,
buries the last remains of its roots.
In the twilight hours of loneliness
as I see dark clouds gather on the horizon
the sound of scraping of shovels
returns to me louder and louder
from the empty pasture
where the banyan tree once was,
and I wait for the storm.
March 7, 2019
Just once may I see beauty that matches your own
I have searched for such
Returned alone
Juliet thou escapeth the curses of time
Romeo's sweetheart
Intense flame that scorches those who seek to touch
I reach out my hand
Trembling
Knowing
I ask too much
Even the sun bows in your radiance
Morning dew compares not to the tears you shed
As does the rivers that have rejuvenated new life
Evening falls in quiet echoes of your footsteps
Cradling past days as if they had just been born
Show me creation
And I shall show you it's flaws
Yet show me Juliet
And I shall show you perfection
I beg of thee
Sweet Juliet
One moment in thy presence
And I, this desperate Romeo
This unworthy creature of despair
I, Romeo's adversary
Will kneel as thy servant evermore
A Shakespearean boy
In a 21st Century world