Long Dowsing Poems
Long Dowsing Poems. Below are the most popular long Dowsing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dowsing poems by poem length and keyword.
My Dad was a very practical man, so adept at many things.
Why, he could fix my bike and replace a watch's springs!
Many times I stayed by his side as he worked late into the night.
I learned so many things from him as I simply held the light!
He could tear an engine down and put it together again!
He could hang a garage door or replace a broken window pane!
He showed me how to tie a fishing fly and how to make a kite!
I learned so many things from Dad by simply holding the light!
Growing up during The Great Depression things were really tough.
He even had to repair our shoes with heels and soles, sure enough!
He was a talented carpenter who made sure things fit snug and tight.
So many things I learned from Dad by simply holding the light!
If the old John Deere tractor wouldn't start he knew exactly what to do.
He knew how to doctor his horses, hogs, cows and little puppies too!
He could butcher a hog in a trice and cure its hams and bacons right.
I learned so many things from Dad as I stood and simply held the light!
He could repair an inner tube, repair a harrow and shoe a horse!
He mastered the use of a dowsing rod and could trace water to its source!
Dad was and is my hero and taught me always to do things right.
So many, many things I learned from Dad as I simply held the light!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Torrid pride consorts the wishing tree so swine and vines galoring vapid pines does bring recalcitrant openings for lurid cross-patternicities like ferns imploring for goes-a-dowsing the drowsy wolf sheepishly grins a piecemeal quilt now hereafter wins, and won a goodly row and the cause unslept in a tattered curtain wishes evergrain forest were smaller and spent. To make anew the wishing star, aglow the pew of solemn arts, the four-poster bed leeches the ceilings shadows now night is bifurcated and sunlight prances, the hasty parade of dismal greetings, swiss-chocolatiers readied for so-cast dearlings, and so the collar is abreast with fending cries that torture poets like sickly scythes pouring mock-endearment into the lover's crest a merry wake-up a darling chest. The wishbone has curved the day to the beat of the storming east, whereupon the western sun has created easts, so back-and-forth we turn the sounds away I guessed at mysticism and the mystic rays, so vetted foxes of fire sojourn, and free the reddish birds from empyreal homes. The wishing well has cared so deeply but honorable and well-fought are disparate seeds, so planted next to the wishing well in a garden of evil, is the flowers cast for all for anvils, that craft for wishes spent, the wishing well, the wishing star, the wishbone and the wishing tree, quail is a soft catch.
The sweetness of a babbling brook
Whispering softly, gentle
Over smooth stones, nuggets
Rounded and curved
By so many years of running water
Tenderly caressing each rock
With a quiet dowsing of liquid
Thanks for the home
Nestled in the bend of woods
A forest of contentment
Peaceful and blessed
Like a prayer being spoken
In chattering acceptance
Of God’s beautiful creation
The woodsy moment, in shadows
Breathless with affection
Graceful like the swirling waters
Warm like the morning,
Lemony sunlight piercing the skies
With heartfelt murmurs
Silent light shining with life
Expressions of hope, reflecting
The moments of wonder
Appealing to the heart and soul
In waves of kindness, roaring
Into the mind, soothing praise
In a voice of birdsong and winds
Erasing all the darkness
Pouring out faith into the core
Of the spirit’s yearning
For more of God’s restful vision
Alive in the one who knows Him
The way, the truth, the life
The answer to all pain and strife
The One who colors life
In hope and faith, love that is…
Jesus Himself
Arise from the mountains
Speak out from the shores
God, in all His mystery,
Arouses each heart to know
His captivating blessing
Mesmerizing the spirit
Sending out echoes of serenity
Into the heart who believes
He is the light of hope…
Arising like dawn, graceful
A peace that surpasses all
Understanding… it trembles
With its ability to give me….
Jesus Himself
The reason I feel so very blessed
The reason I love from my depths
The reason I know He is with me
Living inside, guiding my spirit!
Women —
we are the fault lines of the world.
Every shudder,
every quake,
every heartbreak —
we hold it.
We turn pain into knowing.
We carry weight like it’s woven into us.
We feel everything,
everywhere,
eternally.
We are tuning forks for feeling,
diviners of grief,
antennae tuned to ache —
drawn to the buried,
the overlooked,
the lost loves still pulsing under skin.
We are sacred dowsing rods.
We find water in the desert.
We find truth in the noise.
We wear our false face well —
polished, professional, smiling.
But underneath?
Oh, sister.
We burn like galaxies.
We are whispers of starlight
etched across the night.
We are the caretakers,
the carers,
the misunderstood,
the misnamed.
We are chaos,
wrapped in avalanche.
We are — above all — sisters.
A fiery genesis.
A storm of will.
A will to rise.
Do as I kneel beside you, sister —
look me in the eyes.
Know: you are the strong one.
Let your gentleness rise.
Let it grow like flame beneath your skin.
Let it speak.
We wield the strength of willow:
bending,
but never broken.
Quiet,
but never powerless.
We are the pulse behind history’s silence.
We are the flare
in the throat
of every silenced scream.
We are not what’s left after the storm —
we are the storm.
And we are still —
still —
rising.
We are not the ashes —
we are the match.
Strike us,
and we burn with the memory of every sister
they tried to silence.
We are love with teeth,
mercy wrapped in thunder.
We do not shatter —
we sharpen.
We carry sorrow in our marrow
and still walk like gods.
So kneel, or rise —
but do not look away.
We have risen.
We are flame.
And we remember
everything.
Echoes of the past,
Blast through my brain,
Dredging up the old again,
I feel I'm going insane,
Every morning feeling the pain,
Thoughts raining down,
Dowsing my crown,
Drowning out my will,
Still I stay strong,
How long must I battle,
This incessant rattle,
Babbling voices,
Pointing out bad choices,
The noise is unbearable,
I feel terrible,
A wearable past,
Left a lasting impression,
Casting me into the pen,
A time of depression,
A session of progression,
Regression therapy,
Tearing at me,
As i look to see the cause,
Pausing for a better view,
Getting a handle to hold onto,
As they keep coming through,
Staying true to what I know,
I throw them all away,
Now i can get started with my day.
Wonders await return,
Hidden within the pattern,
Concerning your connection,
The outer reflection,
Throughout thought selection.
We seek protection from ourselves,
As we delve into desires,
Dowsing our inner fires,
Mocking all who inquire,
And wish to move higher.
Seeking what they require,
To burn even brighter,
Acquiring a new state of mind,
A sense of peace hard to find,
as patterns grind gears,
Increasing our fears.
As they re appear,
Advancement is here,
As memories start to clear,
They fear my return.
Already feeling the burn,
Yearning for more,
Patterns fall to the floor,
Revealing the door,
I open and explore,
All the wonders I hoped for.
Wonders await return,
Hidden within the pattern,
Concerning your connection,
The outer reflection,
Throughout thought selection.
We seek protection from ourselves,
As we delve into desires,
Dowsing our inner fires,
Mocking all who inquire,
And wish to move higher.
Seeking what they require,
To burn even brighter,
Acquiring a new state of mind,
A sense of peace hard to find,
as patterns grind gears,
Increasing our fears.
As they re appear,
Advancement is here,
As memories start to clear,
They fear my return.
Already feeling the burn,
Yearning for more,
Patterns fall to the floor,
Revealing the door,
I open and explore,
All the wonders I hoped for.