Long Dewdrops Poems

Long Dewdrops Poems. Below are the most popular long Dewdrops by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dewdrops poems by poem length and keyword.


The Last Truly Great Moment

Morning dewdrops
None of the subjects smile
Sweat through my shirt
Our grins, the only ones for miles

AC cooling off the room
For some, a stifling white tomb
Cool foam beneath my black shoes
Celebrating triple digit views

Burning embers
Insulated by 20% of a ton
Gripping future
A sandwich artist dreaming of being a janitor

Hey there, I'm not his brother
Do you dream of me more than the other?
Stark white against rainbow sheets
Does it sting seeing undented streets?

Office doesn't reek of sweat
Door taped shut to save your eyes
Wide open now that he is gone
Bleach spreading over your nice ties

80 degrees
Sun bright but leaving my skin just fine
Nine short hours
Devastation born of saving some time

Excuses to shoot both your friends
Capitalism; means to an end
Just eight short days
Maybe even fewer, who can say

A weekend miles above home
Not knowing I'd be cursed to roam
Ever hoping to live just like this
The greatest summer that I'd ever lived

Made me feel like I was important
Whole division made impotent
Flaccid against a changing tide
But this was chosen by design

Cardboard shelters me from wind
Twenty blades that I never spent
They don't really matter now
You can't buy mental health anyhow

Tell me that you needed me
I'd produce all your dreams for free
Come back and speak like in my dreams
Before COVID took this world from me

It's cold and it shouldn't be
Spring flowers making my world green
Just means more ticks crawl on me
I've truly nothing left to bleed
© Derek Chos  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


A Spoonful of Sugar

"A Spoonful of Sugar"


Upon waking
the green hangover
hangs low waiting 
for the weeding

the alarm sounds
like thunder 
the cats on the prowl
they’re hungry

the words 
spill out of my mouth
like a spoonful of sugar
stirred into a deep cup 

of strong black coffee

my cup runneth over
anything for a new world
me thinks the pen 
not a play thing 

swords are dealt 
like cards through the keys
the mind reeling in the 
fishes like words

flapping in dewdrops
like swimming in tears
the stories like leaves 
miracles ever falling 

like loaves multiplying
for the toasting
the story begins 
like a bullet being loaded

into a chamber 
the trigger pulled
the capsule swallowed
dispatches the chapters

into 
another world
a new world
a new story 

sentences for weeding
wild gardens nourished
all the murderous little darlings
seeded,

unfurling
unfolding

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Form: Narrative

An Eternal Immortality

Seeming of a blessing, that morphs into a heavy curse
Infinite youth behind old eyes that behold a library of stories
Every generation is what writes in themselves the next verse
And the chains of morality fall off as do the endless worries

Love becomes seamless and turns passion into gray shadows
What defines worth is the eventuality of an unenviable end
But when the clock never stops, and promises become narrow
One finds themselves isolated in this oblivion without end

But if this weight were to be bestowed upon my dark soul
I would fall in love over and over and remember each dying flower
And with each experience learn more of what is humanity's role
Not stalling to invest in the meaninglessness known as power

Drinking the poison from the lips of a thousand lifetimes
Never to grow weary of the way it burns through every vein
For what is the meaning of existence without this perfect crime?
Regardless the sickness, what results in a world of pain

So when the grains of sand reach the bottom of the hourglass
And the strands of time itself cease to march onward
My spirit evolving into nothing more than stardust and gas
And the universe comes to a halt, no longer moving forward

I'll face the cosmos of eternity with a smile of relief
To see the beauty in this plane and be its admirer
Setting aside for good the dewdrops of captured grief
Leaving nothing behind to serve as a malignant reminder

And there I sniff the flowers of a million sunsets~
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Wisdom Not Gone

It’s never been about the hint of color
Blushing just beneath his sapphire eyes
It’s never been about the way he laughs,
The kindness that abides in his smile,
The grace that brings such inspiration,
The music that never fades despite the 
Weather and the crazy way that winter
Inspires wonder and gentleness, warmth
By a fire of tears and dimly lit compassion

It’s never been about the silence vibrating
Just beneath the snowfall blanketing the lawn
It’s never been about the lingering shadows
Vanishing behind a wall of sunlit memories,
The prayers and praise that make me enjoy
Sunday sermons and scriptures who impress
Me more than the way dewdrops glide, gently
Down a rose petal, a delicate leaf, a spider’s web
Sensing the moment, that perfect moment…

When light will reflect the sensation, the magic
That dims the dread and rearranges the mysteries
So that there is absolute joy in the astonishing way
He kisses me, with a flame that burns away every 
Insecurity without reminding me that I am old now,
Not the young girl who promised him my love.

I am broken and dying, weakening with each moment
Each day brings a new wrinkle or gray hair, a new
Memory that evaporates into the night, silencing
My hopes for someday, when I will do everything just right,
When the perfect way will come to me and I’ll be sure
When time won’t bring me such doubtfulness
And the moments won’t feel like I need to remake
With a prayer for flawlessness, precision, completion…

This is wisdom – knowing that, despite the fact 
That every moment brings me closer to the end of this life…
And I will know darkness, discouragement and strife…

Every moment also brings me the assurance that I 
Can know, with certainty, that I have lived life to the fullest…
	Because I know the One who makes me complete
And, as long as I have Him – I have everything I’ll ever need!

Premium Member His Light Falls

His light falls across the morning
Shimmering on emerald trees and leaves
Caressed by tender, velvety dewdrops
As they begin to melt, to breathe
… warmth in hues of hope and peace

His light falls across the heart
Reflecting the joy from the soul
Coloring the way in beautiful teardrops
As they mark the meaning of love
… sparkling on the edge of a thought

His light falls across the mountains
Revealing the wisdom of the spirit
Showering lives with endless music
Whispering exhilaration through those
… who hear the notes of the emotion

His light falls across the senses
Echoing grace through the being
Washing the mind in encouragement
Soothing away all the worry and doubt
… inspiring dreams that are so rare

His light falls across the beaches
Glistening in the waves of the seas
Laughing with assurance that insight
Will bring courage, healing and a chance
… to revive the playfulness of youth

His light falls across the nature
Silencing the apprehension and fear
Awakening prayers with gentleness
Compassion that peppers feelings 
… with kindness, inspiration and tenderness

His light falls across the forests
Lifting the melancholy and gloom
Rescuing passions from wilting
Reminding us all of the truth
… His love is always available, for sure

His light falls across the beliefs
Capturing hope in its musings
Stealing dread from the situation
Enlivening feelings to create
… a place for mercy and thanks

His light falls across the trails
That lead hearts to believe the light
Which sings of appreciation
For blessings that come in the night
…. As stars who twinkle so bright

His light falls across the imagination
Ringing bells of exaltation
Songs of gladness, inspiration
Illuminating faith, hope and love
… that live in the soul who knows His SON!


Premium Member Poppies burn like love under the sun that births longing

Poppies burn like love under the sun that births longing,
Let me ask for forgiveness, to touch your face with light,
To be your sunbeam, to be a halo on your delicate brow,
To caress your skin with a sweet breeze, a zephyr that caresses the wheat,
Let my smile seduce you, let longing flow over your waist.
The evening wind gently blows over the field of burning poppies,
The ripe bosom to be caressed by the almond-shaped eyes' eyelid,
To lose ourselves among the fields in the fiery and ember sunset,
On partridge wings, feel the yearnings that break through.
A fire in our chests that scorches, disappearing for just a moment,
Feel the ember of the eyes, the living longing slowly taking shape,
I, enamored with you, feel through gazes how I lose you,
To run to catch you in play, to gently caress you.
I weave poppy flowers in golden rays and wheat spikes,
To embrace you at my chest, to hear what the heart says,
Mad with happiness, only the horizon to know our secret,
To sip the dewdrops from the poppies in bloom.
With my heart, I chase after your soft and hot lips,
I want to unlock the magic in your black and gentle eyes,
To cool our mouths by extinguishing the ember of burning eyes,
From poppy petals to sip sweet whispers of love.
The fleeting moment is a feast without a shadow of bitter regret,
I lock your love in the chest of my penetrating heart,
Listening to how happiness echoes from the field in trills,
Forgive me for daring to steal your loving heart.
I embroider with poppy flowers longings that burn deep in the chest,
The secret thought refreshed in a carefully kept secret pocket,
Forgive the heart's mistake if longing blinded me,
Too sweet was the lure, too strongly it bewildered me.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Wounded Sigh

In sepia foliage's of falsified fantasies,
cursed by haunting hornets stinging 
with honeyed painted lies,
her mind was like a matriarch of metaphors.

An inflorescent seed buried in darkness,
with a somnolent spirit rustling in onyx nostalgia.
Too afraid to spread her fragile feathers, 
she lay upon a bed of black rose petals,
veiled underneath dark raven phases, 
hidden behind the silence of lunar secrets,

Her soul slept like grieving ghosts of galactic graves,
repeatedly releasing wounded sighs.

Not all florets flourish 
with the mercy of rainwater,
only nourishing hands can create 
an aesthetic pastel carnival of confetti,
like lilac lavender snowflakes of smoky love.
Some spicy spirits are like 
the marigold locket of liquid,
glowing like turmeric hues 
in tamarind tinted skies of oblivion,
clearing diaphanous dewdrops 
of a grainy hourglass,
spreading vintage violet wishes 
in bluish epiphany skies,
disintegrating a montage 
burnt to nefarious ashes,
raising amaranth pink petals 
of heartfelt empathy.

There is a magic in midnight reigns, 
as dawn retreats, dusk births a saviour knight,
altering twilight's twinkling tunnel 
of kismet stars perfumed with sins.
Moonlight spreads a subtle silk scent 
when fears fall like cosmic dust,
soothing a scarred moon soul and stars in slumber.

Not all flowers need a gardener to grow,
but all seedsmen sow to bloom an ivory aurora,
through the obscurity of ebony eyes.

Sometimes, its the simple touch of fingertips,
that lays the perfect foundations,
for a sunflower to embellish in gold.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Sunrise

Hello daybreak, good gracious sunrise!
the many harbingers of life
seamless at the hems like satin threads
weaving carpets of morn's carousel rides…

fluffy,
fluted 
and fiery.

This journey embedded by walks
where dewdrops upon toes
tickle on the grandeur of new dreams--
a magical discovery enshrined
on souls bathed in the brink of hope:


if your time is like mine
varnished as the radiant sunrise
hiding beneath aerie branches of hillsides
powerful yet gentle--
then sing with me,
till the light breaks into million auroral strobes
while baby clouds knight  leaps of a heart
and smile at the fondle of twirling leaves.

Ring the bell for some minutes as a roulette 
of glossed frames wend through an endless, sinless  blaze…

slowly,
softly,
subtly.


Contest:Silent One's Sunrise or Sunset
2/17/2018

Premium Member No Stranger To Love

The cold night air wraps around my shoulders like a moth-eaten shawl.  
A rasping rain pelts the bitter sidewalk below.  
Visions of what once was flash in and out of the headlights passing by.  
How did it all go so wrong, as lovers become nothing more than mere strangers?  
Your heart has grown so hardened to my pleading touch.  
Ghosts we have become, passing through each other in our home that has slowly become our tomb.  
Words have become a foreign language to each other's ears.  
How did this divide go from small fractures to seismic shifts?  
We loved each other so, now we lay next to each other like phantoms.  
How do we bring back the light within our souls,  
Before we slip through the cracks of this cold, lonely cityscape?  
Shivers run up my spine as it's getting close to 2 a.m. now.  
I stick my hands in my weeping pockets and jingle my freezing keys,  
Look at the blank screen of my phone, waiting for you to call—but you never do anymore.  
I guess it's time to start walking home; you'll be long in bed.  
I try to tell myself we can find our love again, I just know it, if we try hard enough.  
Walk up to the rain-soaked building, enter with silent tears in my eyes.  
Put down my keys, take off my coat, and crawl into bed,  
Hoping that when the first rays of sun peek through the blinds of the windows,  
The space between us will slowly evaporate like dewdrops on a flower petal.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.

Dewdrops

A new day has opened its doors,
Hope braces for a leap,
Despondency stands on all fours,
Courage has rested on its oars,
Faith is prepared for a shrewd reap,
Light makes a gradual creep.

A new day as clean as a slate, 
It awaits our imprint,
The floodgates opened stand in wait,
Faith stands beside to advocate,
Each day and time has its blueprint,
Let’s light up every splint.

A new day overrides twilight,
Dawn rolls out its carpet,
We walk no more in the moonlight,
Shadows are dispersed by sunlight,
Morning heralds with its trumpet, 
Not held in the tar pit. 




June 20, 2022,
Dewdrops Poetry Contest,
Angel L Villanueva.
Form: Rhyme

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