Long Cruse Poems
Long Cruse Poems. Below are the most popular long Cruse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cruse poems by poem length and keyword.
April 3 Heart for God Bible Meditations Based on 1Samuel 25-27
Key Verse – 1Samuel 26:11 The Lord forbid that I should stretch forth mine hand against the Lord's anointed: but, I pray thee, take thou now the spear that is at his bolster, and the cruse of water, and let us go.
HEART THAT RELIES ON THE LORD WHO FORBIDS US TO SIN
Our heart relies on the Lord Who forbids us to sin
while we love Him devotedly
As He meets us during prayer-fellowship sweetly
Always preparing our souls to seek Him earnestly
By His compassion’s goodness greatly.
Our heart relies on the Lord Who forbids us to sin
while we praise Him in our worship
As He moves us against hypocrisy in exalting His leadership
Always kindling our gratitude to express joy in His offered friendship
By His granted divine relationship.
Our heart relies on the Lord Who forbids us to sin
while we learn from Him and His Word
As He teaches us to live by His truth’s record
Always guiding our faith to use His powerful sword
By His wisdom toward understanding accord.
Our heart relies on the Lord Who forbids us to sin
while we serve Him through His vineyard
As He enables us to be His labouring steward
Always strengthening our hands to work hard
By His might’s standard.
Our heart relies on the Lord Who forbids us to sin
while we obey His authority
As He protects us against worldliness’ vanity
Always correcting our motives of any falsity
By His guarding sovereignty.
Our heart relies on the Lord Who forbids us to sin
while we stay in His will
As He brings us to His presence where from chaos, we can keep still
Always restoring our salvation-joy He only can fulfill
By His inspiring sacrifice at Calvary’s hill.
Our heart relies on the Lord Who forbids us to sin
while we surrender to Him our pride
As He attends to us so that we can stay on the winning side
Always driving our service upon His Scriptures’ guide
By His instruction where we should humbly abide.
April 3, 2026
Farewell, au revoir, goodbye, convivial summer.
The day is late now, and the breeze is warmer.
A vacant ocean-side barricaded motel.
Wild geese are soon flying in lines as well.
Vacation homes drop their literate barricades.
This rich sweeping green tone will soon fade.
In this season, buds and fruits are abundant.
Melons and garden load are ardent.
Tanned skin, sailboats, and folded linen suits.
When the world is more positive than disputes,
Pollen irritates the sinuses of sensitive patients.
Now they've fled to the farm, the coast nascent.
Stop their passing endeavor at escape.
The Ferris wheel in LEGOLAND is agape.
The Cape no longer trades in quirkiness.
A glum family descends from the murkiness.
To welcome their offspring back from camp.
Mature year, scarlet maple boughs, raised scamp.
Sunburned shoulders disappear at summer's end.
Goodbye to the peasant's headband.
Goodbye storms and dirty white shoes.
Goodbye summer friends, pants, shorts, and cruse.
Farewell, tennis peculiar desire to be difficult.
Farewell picnics, ice tea, and plane trips, munificent.
Written: August 19, 2022
Nowhere Man
I haven’t rode a motorcycle since 2011.
Riding through the trees was like heaven.
The last thing on earth that's freedom.
He doesn't need much.
Just a few bucks.
Ride on through with sunglasses.
Just ride until your heart's content.
Believe me, there's nothing like it.
Freedom on a bike.
A cool breeze outside.
My shadow rides beside me.
A lonely man on his bike is free.
Not many understand what it means.
On fire, the motor is always burning.
There is nothing like the open road.
Let all your thoughts go out the window.
Early morning ready to take flight.
Nothing else matters in sight.
Burnt tire tracks on the asphalt.
A beautiful day to ride in the fall.
So many memories so long ago.
Ride freely along the winding road.
Trees hover above as I ride below.
It’s like flying through a tunnel.
Just lean against your bike and grab a smoke.
Just cruse right into tomorrow.
Hi-Choo
Early spring in Corinth and I’m bathing in a pollen shower as fuzzy green seedlings are whisked here and there in the blustery March breeze, I sneeze!!
Remnants of last night’s thunderstorm cruse across the pale blue canvas of the afternoon sky as pine cones fluttering in the breeze make me sneeze, I sneeze, I I I I sneeze!!
Even the old crape Myrtle, pronounced deceased years ago, is budding and basking in the evening glow, her babies preparing to become leaves, and I sneeze sneeze sneeze , I sneeze, I sneeze
As you can see
Pollen damn near
Got the best of me
But let me catch
my breath
and finish my soliloquy
Old Magnolia, washed in Nature’s seasonal offering, regain their forest green state, after a brief bloom, branches swaying with ease and I sneeze sneeze sneeze I sneeze I I sneeze I sneeze
Wew!! Hi Choo!!
i like the way you do girl,
Like your moves and your thing,
I’m taken to your way,
It breaks me, makes me sing.
You are my height,
With you, I’m might,
We are in sight,
Of love’s hot kite.
We can cruse right to sigon,
Fly on wings of pardon,
And we can cry right on,
With the night’s condition.
You are my height,
With you, I’m might,
We are in sight,
Of love’s hot kite.
Your legs right in your tight jeans,
Beckon my hand to touch,
Right around that stalwart,
Where there is warmth so much.
You are my height,
With you, I’m might,
We are in sight,
Of love’s hot kite.
My darlin’, my pride and truth,
You are my destiny,
Let us be the downfall,
Of ingenuity.
You are my height,
With you, I’m might,
We are in sight,
Of love’s hot kite.
April 2 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on 1Kings 17-19
Key Verse –1Kings 17:16 And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail, according to the word of the LORD, which he spake by Elijah.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY MEAL PROVIDER
Lord God, You are my meal Provider,
enabling me to dwell in Your contentment-will
Thank You for bringing me bread and water that truly fill
Midst dryness, as You combat poverty attacking prosperity hill
To sustain and refresh me serenely still.
Lord God, You are my meal Provider,
encouraging me to remain in Your abundant goodness
Thank You for restoring me, forgiving my confessed sinfulness
Midst guiltiness, as You pardon me with Your loving kindness
To restore and build me up through Your sanctifying holiness.
Lord God, You are my meal Provider,
exhorting me to pray and to You always call
Thank You for satisfying me along Your dining hall
Midst scarcity, as You meet my needs’ over all
To deliver and revive me from destructive downfall.
Lord God, You are my meal Provider,
empowering me to live according to Your Word
Thank You for guiding me toward servanthood-ford
Midst crisis, as You counsel me from troubling discord
To uphold and govern me with Your Spirit’s sword.
Lord God, You are my meal Provider,
enlightening me to esteem Your sacrifice
Thank You for granting me eternal life of great price
Midst nothingness, as You supply me with mercies that suffice
To gird and propel me to service-heights, with faith to arise.
Lord God, You are my meal Provider,
exposing me to Your instructing wisdom
Thank You for inviting me to work in Your kingdom
Midst idleness, as You move me against boredom
To support and help me in ministering with divine freedom.
Lord God, You are my meal Provider,
extending to me Your grace as I abide by Your time
Thank You for accompanying me in my journey-climb
Midst weariness, as You curtail me of my selfishness’ chime
To rescue and prop me by Your compassion that can’t be paid by dime.
April 2, 2022
Oh, Moonshiner, man of the mountains high,
Where whispers of wind and wildcats' cry.
Your heart a kiln, your soul aflame,
With the secret of white lightning's name.
In hollows deep, your still does hum,
A symphony of steam, a hidden drum.
From fields of corn, a golden juice,
To fiery spirit, in silver cruse.
They call it 'stump water,' 'skullcracker,' too,
This potent elixir, born of dew,
A 'ruckus juice,' for joy and strife,
A taste of freedom, a taste of life.
You're a craftsman skilled, a master bold,
In the art of alchemy, stories untold.
With fire and patience, you coax it forth,
A spirit potent, of the mountain's worth.
So, raise a glass, to the moonshiner's art,
A rebel's brew, to stir the heart,
A taste of freedom, a whisper in the night,
A lightning flash, a fiery light.
There is a great epidemic
sweeping across the land,
that convinces foolish minds
they are bold and grand,
convinces them mere existence
makes them legendary,
I’m talking now about the cruse
of unearned self-esteem.
You see it in the young folk,
most still under twenty-five,
taught all their life they’re special,
Into this line they buy,
proclaiming their own greatness
by texting friends endlessly,
call them out, they take offense
thanks to unearned self-esteem.
Then there are those women
who think their lady-parts
make them special people
with no stink to their farts.
But being one of every two
is nothing noteworthy,
no different from those before,
save for unearned self-esteem.
And who can forget those people
who say it’s about tint,
who demand special treatment
because of their pigment,
those who say your life is just
criss-crossed ‘identities,’
skin-color is not an accomplishment,
ditch the unearned self-esteem.
The worst of the infected
are the terminal PC-crowd,
the group-think of raw emotion
trumpeted out loud,
convinced that they’re enlightened
while mouthing malarkey,
they’d rule us with with an iron fist,
blame the unearned self-esteem.
Real esteem is something earned
by facing weighty truths,
it’s built up as you navigate
the ravages of youth.
It cares not for fame or fortune,
its end is competency,
when you master the task at hand
you’re then worthy of esteem.
It’s not some trendy label,
or a group you are within,
real esteem is built up slowly,
from win stacked upon win.
And when your self is mastered,
it’s plain for all to see,
you’ll have no need for illusion,
you’ll have earned real self-esteem.
Tired of frolic
and the beaming sun,
the snow and ice retreat;
returning the pond nation
to its peaceful co-existence.
Toads once again sit
majestically upon their naked
rock thrones—no lily pads here.
A lone insect glides by
and is slap from the sky
by the welcoming frog’s tongue.
The ducks again cruse
the soothing wet water
dousing heads to catch prey
or douche long neglected feathers.
Suddenly, a rock skips across the pond.
Ducks frantically populate the sky.
As if a magic act of nature,
all other creatures disappear.
In the quietness of this canvassed scene,
ripples concentrically spread across the pond—
Shattered reflected rays, scattered dancing shadows.
Silently, we drove onward.
Indeed, nature’s mercy
has strange laws.
https://allpoetry.com/poem/13105586-The-Pond-by-millard-lowe
They say its a poet's curse,
they lose everyone they verse ,
and if thats true
none of my poems were for you,
Implying my soul is not my muse
leaving my curse of no use
If I had not written for you
i'd fold your laugh in pockets blue
Like sun-warm coins I'd spend at tea
on trembling afternoons with you
Id string our meetings like warm lights
hang them careless at night
polish the edges of our small rites
Until even faults held gentle light
But, ink,
ink would not let my memory sleep
it traced the curve of your soft name
each line vigil and while I weep
And found the way the quiet came
I wrote the way your hand would rest
a hush of blue bell on my skin
I praised the way your laughter dressed
the ordinary rooms we would been
So call it cruse
call it a curse
a cup which fills with wanting slow
to write was to rehearse the verse
that lets me feel you when you go.
I lost you once in parting's hush
I lost you once when paper kept
the gentle shape of every blush
and let my yearning wake and weep
If silence saved me from the ache ,
I would wear it's calm like hidden threads
but words are the small gifts I make ,
to hold our afternoons instead