Long Dragonflies Poems
Long Dragonflies Poems. Below are the most popular long Dragonflies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dragonflies poems by poem length and keyword.
For weeks
I have been followed,
they mirror
my every move …
and now
I’m dreaming them
they drifted in
and separated me
from my bed,
whisking me from my sheets
they fly me,
to curl the other place
soaring on dreams
brushing just enough to touch,
my feet stroll medieval turrets
and like walking ripples
across a lake, I glide
I swept my hand through stars
that floated in fingers of memory
all held,
in a gondola of wings
(dragonflies,
big as dragons)
they call me in wimples
serenade me to cathedrals
within canopy’s of weeping willows,
I am gobsmacked
in their phantasmic enchantments
that undulate vapoured mist,
with feeling
(I’m mesmerized
and burning)
as I,
sucked into vortexes of spinning visions,
and splayed out on magenta clouds,
leaning over
I tore it off,
like cotton balls
and floated it to play
on whiskers of wind
and when sliding over
this light phantastic,
winged cavaliers cradle me
and feather me back to earth …
I awoke to curtains
dancing through mosaics of light,
transforming to spread wings
and lay lace wreaths
over the arms of time
but in the reality of dimension,
in the unknown that is the surreal
swaddled in the wings of a dragonfly,
I’m whispering sleep
to the Dreamtime
The warm sun.
The days off work.
The luxury to lounge all day in my pajamas if I want to.
These are some things I love about summer.
The violets in the woods.
The moss at the base of the oaks.
The pungent aroma of lilacs and azaleas.
These are some things I look forward to in summer.
The mushrooms in the yard when I water too much.
The bunnies, and squirrels, darting here and there.
The butterflies and dragonflies, flitting around me as I walk.
These are things that make summer pleasing and pleasant.
The walks and talks with my grandchildren.
The hotdogs and hamburgers on the grill,
The children’s delighted laughter as they play outside together
These all make summer worthwhile.
Entered Nayda Ivette Negron's Contest Summer Fun
Gemini born, an obvious air sign,
She loved the breezes, the more brisk the better
They brought butterflies, dragonflies and damsel flies
Didn’t they?
She liked nothing better than to lie in the grass
While little ants creeped up her legs reading a book
Did not matter what book, she found value in most
As long as there was a breeze lifting her hair up
As the gentle breeze caressed her arms and legs
The summer sun would warm her
Together they would lull her to sleep
She would wake up happy, loving neighborhood sounds
Mrs. Rutherford laughing at something Mrs. Zee said.
Mr. Rutherford’s buzz saw, Sophie’s collie’s happy bark.
Nothing like a little snooze in the middle of June
Next to a gentle loving breeze.
Lakeside, among the dripping weeds,
Yellow Jackets, Dragonflies, gnats,
and Yellow Tailed fritillaries
vie for air space.
The water is still, a mirror
turned over to watch
what flies beneath it.
It has a surface tension
that echo’s from an in-between place,
close but unreachable.
It is there that I see the animals.
They are neither in the water or out of it.
They are peering into both worlds,
observing with wide eyes,
owls, bears, and bob cats,
all observing
my reflected face in the water.
They are totem animals,
not mine, perhaps they are
unclaimed spirit creatures,
ones ignored by their humans.
or perhaps what I am seeing
is only my face distorted by sunlight
and the skimming clouds
If so, why does my own totem eagle
screech a welcome
that scatters the Yellow Jackets,
Dragonflies, gnats, and butterflies?
On a blushed evening of late autumn,
powdered clouds whisper a tune in notes
between sweet and classic, while every hoof
of our wagon taps quiet...
plowing each route along miles, miles ahead.
And as darkness peels of fragile rays, we lay
on our carriage among souvenirs
while our ancestral home awaits.
I remember we are nearing our last milestone,
and the urban sprawl ‘s relentless noise
exiles the hum of dragonflies, of each word
straining gentle reveries.
Now that twilight years call, our farmland
takes us back where youth’s pureness runs
along the grasses crisp...crystalline.
Again, with traces of affection ,
dahlias will purl around us in a slow- dance
of floral innocence, cradling each other freely...
then to play, delight, and rest in the meadows
of time's remains.
Laura Loo's Any HM Ever Contest
Back To Innocence Theme Contest
Resubmitted 3/31/2017
Written 8/20/2015
the bridge between our hearts
as fine as spiderweb threads
along it soldiers march
workers trample, children skip
with balls of light
cows graze, horses gallop
between our hearts the bridge
is held by the Tree of Life
sung over by soft rain
its roots tangled like veins
in molten centre of
Mother Earth ______
below it gurgles River of Intentions
on its banks rural maidens
with feathers in their plaits
play reed flutes
lilies grow in its crevices
whilst dragonflies sweetly hum
mothers sing rhymes
whilst suckling fat babies
spiders delicately continue
to weave below trodden cobbles
I longingly listen for the trample
of your brown leather boots on
the other side of the bridge !
[ Placed 8th : Premier Contest :
Romanticism : Sponsor : Seth Pina
April 26 ]
Welcome to my world
dip a toe inside
walk with me
through mother nature's creations
see the beauties of this earth.
Magical dragonflies hover
turquoise blues and greens
over ponds and lakes.
Beautiful gossamer winged
rainbows of butterflies
flutter over greenest of meadows.
High in the treetops
twittered choruses echo
whistling on the breeze
that surrounds us.
Inhale the pure air,
taste the salt of the sea
on the tip of your tongue.
Exhale this, follow it through
with purity of mind
let go of all your cares.
Look beyond this year
imagine yourself happy
what are you doing?
Make your dream a reality
set yourself a goal.
Make yourself open
to the wonders
of the things around us.
Life is for the taking
for the here and now
it passes too quickly
lives change fast
we are who we are
things happen for a reason.
There is a time and place
where you should be
this life is a lesson
take each opportunity as it comes;
for it may never present itself
in quite the same way ever again,
for we are constantly evolving.
Remember this moment
cherish the fruits of life
harvest them
reap what is sown
do not let it go to waste
for you are worthy,
you are meant to be.
Be thankful for the chances
you have been given,
grateful for times good and bad
for they lead you onwards
to new pastures,
untrodden;
for time waits for no one,
hold your head high
and walk on.
Huffle-winks came from the forest of Jom
The King sent five knights to track them all down
For they had brought terror to the kingdom
He offered his daughter and prince’s crown.
Four of the bold knights by dragons were slain
But one lone brave knight continued the quest
Through woods, rivers and mountainous terrain
Until quest completed he would not rest.
The forest entrance surrounded by mire
Here the huffle-winks would meet their demise
That is where the brave knight built a large fire
Their enemies helped him, the dragonflies.
Huffle-winks are gone, they’ve not been seen since
The knight wed the princess and was crowned prince.
Written on 22 May 2018
For Dragons Huffle-winks, and Dragonflies contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
The birds are back. The sparrows, the robins, the finches too.
The red cardinals, the blue jays, though they are seldom in two’s.
The woodpeckers, and the hummingbirds, some gray, and some blue.
Their choir is raising the mushrooms right out of their snooze.
Overnight Mother Nature has slyly sprinkled green glitter all around.
She did it effortlessly, kindly, boldly, with a total lack of sound.
We now have the greeniest greens high and low, greens that can ever be found.
I will invite you over, if you promise not to disturb our ant mound.
Formerly frozen creek has thawed into a gorgeous wild flowing river.
The shy, flirty, faerie-decorated butterflies are in sliver/quiver.
Dragonflies, moths, beetle-bugs, and caterpillars are near the river.
Making my happy heart sing and dance a bogie jive closer to my liver.
The scent of the purple and lavender lilacs is suspiciously sweet.
The first real proof that the perennials are ready to stand on their feet.
Magically pushing their fragrant puffy flowerets to fruition in this full heat.
The monarch is leading the way, dragonflies, and earthworms, following in beat.
It was minty fresh spring and all undulating, grassy hills turned green.
Flowers emerged in sweetest perfumes, crowned like beauty queens.
It was audacious, ancient April, the month of melodious, ample rain;
Of changes here and anywhere, of bold tapping on the windowpane!
Lime green dazzled in rich orchard, as fern green graced wild wood.
Little Kayla loved vivid, peach sunshine, the kind that makes life good.
All had witnessed the fall of the sun, on cherry sunset, night of nights.
Later Kayla dreamt of friends coming; like rare purple martin in sight!
When winter's ferocious fling ended, forlorn snowman waved goodbye.
Then family came in stylish finery, in flip moments of fuchsia butterfly.
Kayla lived in the house of sunlit greenery, with plants in every room;
As dying sun pledges soon returning colors-laughter from the tomb.
In sanguine Mother's scarlet gardens, Kayla played with all her sisters;
On the street of songbird scat, of windblown leaves, like hued twisters.
Neighbors' porch lights burned all night, under the full moon of nectar;
And nightingale songs entered dreams, of the sunny noon of pleasure.
'Gold of Kinabalu' orchids shone with wealth, in days of fancy flowers;
As 'black velvet petunias owned the night, after the butterfly encounters.
'Limelight hydrangeas' reveled in stardom, as 'love in a puff' went poof;
And chocolate daisies were sinfully sweet, like the invulnerability of truth.
Loving apricot sun the way she did, Kayla disliked drenching, silvery rain;
So, when it showered after school one day, she dashed down Lilac Lane!
She found a refuge, cool and dry, underneath wide, Ada Robinson Bridge;
And she waited for a whole hour, then walked home, past blueberry ridge.
Rich green was the lush grass, covered in precious pearls, which sparkled;
For marigold sun was out once more, lovely as noon eclipse, that darkled.
Mulberry trees dripped spring diamonds, as pretty nature flaunted wealth;
When blue dragonflies were roaring, and pink butterflies drank to health.
Fervent sun shone on the wet roof of Kayla's home, reminiscent of old gold,
Just as a sole sighting is more lovely, than all the stories one has been told!
'Rain on the green grass,
Rain on the tree,
Rain on the housetop,
But not on me.'