Long Dower Poems
Long Dower Poems. Below are the most popular long Dower by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dower poems by poem length and keyword.
On that summer’s day when we first meet and kissed,
I knew you Madelaine as one I could adore.
Against your family’s wishes, I still persisted
in wooing you; we’d wed or I’d be your paramour.
The levant winds blew through Spain’s hills unfettered
bringing death to suitors far and wide from above.
We had cause to feel our choice had made us debtors,
leaving our love a littered path, a ball-fisted glove.
Like Romeo I’d leave, not die, but without a trace
for I’d not hurt you more and death would be too much.
I’d give you time to heal your sorrows to embrace,
to come to terms with the rightness of our chaste touch.
In a far off land, I recall your devotion;
your lamented father’s wish for a princely dower,
but all have died who wished our love to be undone.
Soon, I’ll claim my Lady from her empty tower.
Fate gifted us passion, drinking from its chalice.
We waded through flaming waves of rising ardor,
in your summer home, your primrose covered palace.
The memories of your touch make absence harder.
As I looked across the wind-blown spray of ocean,
my mind turned to the sadness of our parting hours
Kneeling, I begged for a distance closing potion
so I could reclaim you to our rosy bower.
I see your longing, desperate, lovely, face
endowed in fears dire depth as we parted from the clutch.
I reminded you distance could not erase love’s trace
or lesson my need to feel your soft, gentle touch.
Last week, I sent a love-soaked, tear-stained letter;
now I return aboard a ship to my sweet dove.
I hope my missive sent has made you feel better,
nevermore will I be denied the touch of my love.
By Robert Lindley and Deborah Guzzi
As the Robins dart across the grass
Ignoring the clouds of gray
Cold breeze and cold dry air
Every so often they bob their heads
Eating a bug or seed something to me unseen
The Redbuds that in the wild do grow
Begin to show their true colors
Along the roads as about our lives we go
Awaking soon to different shades of green
They'll fill the artist's canvas of woods
Each tree shows its beautiful or knarled
Structure that's not now hidden by leaf or flower
Some being stately and others
Seem to be dower some look as
Though being crownded or shaped
By ice storm or children playing on tender limbs
Soon the full canvas will be painted
With all the colors of spring bringing
To mind love and romance of the springtime
A time of sunny days with just enough warmth
Color, aroma, and scent of spring flowers
To fill all hearts with those desires..amore
Form:
As the Robins dart across
Ignoring the clouds of gray
And cold breeze with the dry air
Bob their heads eating a bug
Something to me not there
The Redbuds that in the wild
Do grow begin to show their
True colors along the roads
Nestled beside are trees that
Are beginning to awake
Soon different shades of green
Will canvas the wild spring woods
Each tree shows its beautiful
Or knarled structure that's not
Now hidden by leaf, flower
Some being stately, others
Seem to be very dower
Some look as though being crowned
Or shaped by ice storm, children
Climbing on the young weak limbs
Each one having a beauty
All their own adorning the
Woods giving rich character
To the wild open rich woods
Oh, how sad, oh how very glum,
Goodness gracious me prater comes.
Still writing winsome words of woe,
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Oh God be, merciful to me.
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Wallowing in morbid abode.
Whiling away the endless hours;
Scribbling sigils, claws cower.
Oh God be, merciful to me.
Scribbling sigils, claws cower.
Feeling your life’s left no dower
Envy those not thus engaged.
Envy the prattle on the page.
Oh God be, merciful to me.
Envy the prattle on the page.
At least the words are given stage.
Each one stroked, petted, tilled and hoed;
Fields upon fields, rows upon row.
Oh God be, merciful to me.
Fields upon fields, rows upon row.
Pondering heaven on life’s gallows.
Goodness gracious me, prater comes,
And, all of it just, so, ho-hum.
Oh God be, merciful to me.
And, all of it just, so, ho-hum.
Leave the box, flee the asylum!
Writing, writing, scratch and scribble;
All this soulless, mindless, drivel.
Oh God be, merciful to me.
All this soulless, mindless, drivel.
joyfull tragic, quite disheveled
Wading through the endless nights;
Waiting, waiting for the light.
Oh God be, merciful to me.
Waiting, waiting for the light,
Never living your gifted life.
Writing, writing, writing on,
Until the coming of the dawn.
Oh God be, merciful to me.
Oh, how sad, oh how very glum,
Goodness gracious me prater comes.
Still writing winsome words of woe,
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Oh Lord, let not our life pass by
Let us do more than weep and cry.
Wallowing in morbid abode.
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Whiling away the endless hours;
Scribbling sigils, claws cower.
Envy those not caught in limbo
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Envy the prattle on the page.
At least the words are given stage.
Fields upon fields, rows upon row.
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Feeling your life’s left no dower.
Enjoying the pain not power.
Pondering heaven on life’s gallows.
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Goodness gracious me, prater comes,
And, all of it just, so, ho-hum.
Each word stroked, petted, tilled and hoed,
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
And, all of it just, so, ho-hum.
Leave the box, flee the asylum!
Writing, writing, writing on,
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
All this soulless, mindless, drivel.
Writing, writing, scratch and scribble;
Live above your massive ego
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
The Devil spoke to me
with glee about what could be, promising, possibly,
he thumbed a drum of hearts pulsing
so I could see the drug of love
that I was missing,
a tempo true and rude impossible to elude
took my breath to the hue of blue,
reflections of calm joy and coy laughter,
refractions violent and violet floating vibrantly,
demons and angels in the flesh fighting forever for admiration
of a clever and aloof Trinity demanding dues,
he said may your body be dense and follow the sequence
of the spirits with you and never miss your cue,
I was awestruck, rendering enquiry futile
as prayers in perdition,
the clouds were copious, his face lucent & sizzling,
nefarious and dangerous these galleys and valleys are,
gamble the gambit of your soul's sanctity,
In the cold stillness consumed by a gray melody
an ancient perfume of rose blood
inflated my mind moonstruck,
a woman wise and disguised like a brilliant bandit
with persuasive eyes presented to me keys to her city,
the Daughter of my Devil was indellibly pretty and sitting lonely saying,
believe me through love and find liberty,
try your luck in rivers red
and in deep seas soliciting felicity,
pick a course and secure your rolling rope
to this feather never to pluck,
horse power and a flower dower,
love your Mother always in hallways dark,
then I was born once more -
J.A.B. 2003
Ah men, always at the ready to take power;
the wisdom that a woman has poses a threat.
So, defame the dame, give her warts, watch men cower
make her the spawn of demon's, make devils her get.
Call her witch, and let her lure men to her bower,
let her kindness to help and heal bring naught but regret.
Call her hell hound's ***** who with her kiss devours,
yet, in your heart of heart you know; you're in her debt.
Her life will be forfeit; so you can keep her dower,
ah men, have you no souls, by greed you are beset.
How many widowed wives have been dis-empowered,
robbed, and scoured to claim their power men are set.
Spontaneity 2-28-24
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Spontaneity
Arthritic inertia,
Absent of the Prime Mover,
Bursts into astral fireflies of serendipity
Coloring outside deliberate
Past ebony links in tangerine comets
In outbursts of the unplanned ad-lib
Flicks of incandescent glory
And slivers of glee,
Like dolphins leaping or whales breaching
Into the spontaneous’ ephemeral sparkle,
Ignite gusts of rumbling grace
Rushing past anxious spirals,
Sneaking past solemn's gates,
In explosions of uncontained whimsy -
As springs of roiling combustions
Split life draining millstones,
And rock musty routines that shuffle
Bathing the unsmiling dower dirge
With thunder dancing across sullen waters
To christen spontaneity’s godchild
With new robes of unrehearsed mirth
And a dedicated named -
Laughter!
The trick is to be grateful when your mood is high and graceful when it is low. Richard Carlson
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Who lives fully? Oh, such a sight to foresee!
A life so valuable, so graceful, and so carefree
With every passing day, raw insights mold.
A quilt of tales, a life worth relating to gold
In such an enormous and chaotic universe.
A tremendous grace symphony, a karmic verse
Unspoken dancing with exquisite footwork
Heart and intellect are enthralling for the network.
In this ethereal universe, grace rules supreme.
Witness the riotous swirl of an opulent dream.
Akin to a swan in still waters, it glides with ease.
Through every swirl and turn, it aims to please.
In this refined world of demeanor and charm,
Where cuteness finds its place, in a grace arm
From inept souls to those with aesthetic eyes,
Let us witness the antelope's lithe sighs.
With gentle gestures and a voice serene.
A language of grace that's seldom seen
Their eyes orate volumes with every glance.
A silent communication, a cosmic dance
With gazelle feats, their steps lilting
In refined motion, willowy and beguiling.
No cumbersome stumble, no swallow of pride,
Fluent and slender, glide with a sylph stride.
Consort kindness, from sullen to refined,
Irreligious views, swapped by goodwill, bind.
In this world of amnesty and dower grace,
Blest with piety, they effortlessly embrace
In the intricacies of every choreographed zest,
Imbue the essence of what it means to nest,
Kindness and pristine passion can transcend
All quests and discordances are keen to mend.
A stance of graceful behavior, a testament,
Might love and respect, and how are meant?
To steer us through life with dignity and grace,
To induct a realm where clear heed bears place.
The Dower Flower©
It is a misty summer day, the morning rain
providing a sheen on the sidewalks
the temperature warm with the touch of a coolness
My eyes are drawn to a neatly
manicured bush with a bouquet of flowers
freshly awoken from their protective buds
I stand in awe of their beauty and the magnificence
they hold, the expression of vibrancy in their colors
The tenderness they exude softly swaying in the gentle breeze
My walk continues and our paths cross as they have many a time afore
She is tallish, young with usually longer blonde hair
Most would call her attractive and good looking, even statuesque
I often imagine her to be a model given the varied times of the day
that our paths have interwoven and her stylish and fashionable attire,
yet in the midst of the mystique something feels asunder
There is an aloofness, a sense of unhappiness,
never a smile or a warm glow on her face
in its place I feel sadness maybe loneliness
My conjecture leads me to ponder and surmise
how someone so young can be so dower
she is the other flower the dower flower
There is beauty but it is locked up inside
one day my hope is that her bud too will blossom
and she will become the flower she is meant to be
Andreas Simic©