Long Dusting Poems
Long Dusting Poems. Below are the most popular long Dusting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dusting poems by poem length and keyword.
The Poet’s fire
My well had dried up empty with all that remained in silence
a viscous gloom of scorching drought of inaudible screams
Painfully lost for words and devoid of meaning all
emotions and images were stuck in blank waning script
Corroded mumbles congested the voice trapped in my mind
concealed what seemed to never have been
An ink well barren from broken nibs shielding the mask
distanced withering intimacy’s length when the fire had gone
One step removed from homeless demise you lit my deserted passion
engulfed me with lava of a hot lover’s touches rhythm and rhyme
Two moons now stream as one seam of dreams wet wild and vital
Lunar infinity in pasturous pleasure full measure and intimate treasure
I drink from your fountain now we quench each other’s thirst
push and pull nectar through wetlands from gravity’s delight
Lotus flowers in our hair let down tingle in all the right places
Venus mango delta overflows shivering meter’s crescendo
We play our chords strings tunes inscribe fingertip poems from skin onto
skin tattoo love and compassion nibble irresistible verses
Kindle from mating of souls pulse convulse and create one language
one foreplay one intro one story one mountain one flute
We are children of delight lusting thrusting shivering from line to line
in each others arm loins dusting the cobwebs of yesteryear
You are my poet tree in motion we are art works in progress and
when the night has passed we write another breathless story
Our spring narrates in heart blood and passion now that fever and yearning
comes to soothe and to slither from serpent to labial match
You are my Goddess of tell-fire I am the Prince with that peach for your beach
When you crowned my muted longing you once more gave me words
“The song is ended but the melody lingers on.” – Irving Berlin
Ever since I became a Souper in 2022
A profile with tinted eyeglass and grey hair,
Reflecting gentleness and aristocracy,
Caught my wandering yet judicious eyes.
On reading his poems, I was drawn to him.
A cool and level headed man was Harry.
Strong like an old Oak tree, ever sheltering.
A sanctum to new poets, a guardian to all,
A man of warmth and wisdom, an inspiration.
He was not just one among a clump of trees
But stood aloof like an oak tree, firmly rooted.
In his popular poem The Old Oak Tree,
He lays down the credo of his life~
“Let us be sanctuary to the
symbolic songstress, scuttling
squirrel, vulgar urchin;
a fortress for the warrior
a haven for the pacifist
an inspiration for the poet!”
Never a pedant, flaunting his trophies,
For he knew the transitoriness of worldly fame.
Never fancied to ride the Hot Air Balloon
Knowing, it would come down to earth, deflated.
Not a votary of the ultra- modern.
In An Agenda-less Age- a poem of his,
He nostalgically reminisces his childhood,
In a rustic country side with no timetables and no worries,
With 'a tuneful mum dusting the blues in a song,'
Where fences were constructed, not as barriers,
But as support to lean on and chat with neighbors.
Harry, with you we believe too- ‘Death is not the End’
But the Golden Gate to another life.
Though your voice has fallen silent,
You continue to speak to us through your poems.
Your songs are still, yet you live on,
Through every line of verse composed.
Kissing you
in the moonlight
sun shining delight
I wrote this
for only you
Looking upon
a moon face
ground covered
in snow
almost looks
like daytime
as the moon sparkles
like diamonds reflecting
on a snowy surface
dreaming of you
In the moonlight
finger beams paint
silvery glistens
softy upon skin
touching gently moonbeams
a desiring beauty
Queen of the night
shining one star
brightly on love
emotions dream
softly gleaming
dusting feelings
upon a silver trail
loves miracle
Every wish
I whisper granted
smiles happiness
dancing joyfully
the soul naked
on a broken
stream of light
Shadows stray
kissing emotions
an angel sings
in sweet harmony
heaven opens
in song singing
I love you
we openly kissed
bathed in moonlight
I am the granddaddy of this tree line
Used to be the strongest, mightiest evergreen here
The others sprung up renegade, one by one
Now I am but a stump of my former glory.
I guess this happens in old age.
I am the most sought after, however
When people come to wait for rides.
I am the only place to sit.
The winters are balmier now,
Today we have snow, which I love
But only a dusting.
I am disappointed that the highway is clear
It is a lot more exciting when cars are stuck or crashing.
Lots of action, tow trucks, police cars,
Sometimes an ambulance with red lights.
Nothing much to do these days but watch
So here I sit, listening to the my great grandchildren
Speaking of me in whispered ways
They think I am senile, too old to hear
My hearing is that of a dog.
I could howl if I wanted,
but I choose to sit here listening,
flicking them out of my will one by one.
Missing you
By Franklin Price
07/05/2022
I miss you so, my darling,
My friend, soul mate and wife
When we said our vows, we meant them
And we honored them for life
It will soon be half a year
Since God took you up to glory
Your love's still here inside me
As I'm proceeding with our story
There have been some changes
Since the Lord took you above
New windows and an old truck
That I don't know that you'd love
The grandfather clock is chiming
And is gonging out the hours
I do not have your green thumb
For maintaining all the flowers
I'm doing all the best I can
In the house and in the yard
You know how I hate the dusting
It doesn't need a body guard
I swiffer and I vacuum
Wash the dishes when I need
Put the clothes in washer/drier
When they're dirty, yes indeed
Go to church on every Sunday
Praise the Lord with song and prayer
Get confirmation by attending
That the Holy Ghost is there
I don't know where I'll go from here
Searching for guidance through God's hand
Friends and family are here for me
They're trying hard to understand
Many are going through the same
Many have lost someone they love
I pray to God, that their dear loved ones,
As mine, are watching from above.
A wedding joins a happy pair
So they can be united
And brings together friends and kin
The couple has invited.
We listen as they pledge their vows
And raise champagne to toast.
We dance and laugh and eat and schmooze
But what I love the most…
Is seeing people I’ve not seen
For far too many years,
‘Cause life with all its obstacles
So often interferes.
Yet there they were – old college chums
And neighbors from the past.
It didn’t matter what travails
Or joys we’d all amassed.
The clocks turned back, but not one hour –
Instead, by twice a score;
And as we reminisced we felt
The way we’d been before:
When we were young and starting out,
Just like the bride and groom,
The future waiting to be filled,
A flower yet to bloom.
At evening’s end we said goodbye
And hugged each other tight,
Delighted that we spent some time
Together for one night.
The newlyweds were glowing
But that magic in the air
Left a dusting of nostalgia
That the rest of us could share.
Is it truth, is it fruit, unspoiled?
Filtered news under play kitchen hard boil?
Unproofed, (by the look of empty pews);
But filled with spoofs of slogan-bringers
and their faxual cheques and unbalanced ques.
Tic Tac tow line item wiki tiki savy? Views,
for the mass of slaughtered Ewes at the pulpit of
Mediacracy Stooged Grammys.
Is it coordinated, perpetrated, instigated
by a disaster an example of to make?
Seized upon like DeathEaters, coffin display cased, Golden Corall Death-Match buffet of Elites vs Human Race.
With News worthy Typeface Headliner, AP API,
folder and *IA attache case.
MSNns.attached.
Letters to the Editards.
Typesetters, Jetsetters, Letterheads, say "Obey"!
Official Mandates, of The Green Religion.
scapegoatery, and vision of the "Ascended Masters"
masked itinerary. Although our binary Twin is causing
it from Space.
Christian hating, "peace loving, Cartels of "walking.
according to lusts"?
WhOracles Selling hallucinogenic traffic, as trending.
justice online in the name of us in fishnets and busty.
nuts.
In spirit of the counter culture of cancel culture of.
Lucis Trust.
Fallen Angels Dusting for keylogging fingerprints,
recognition facing us, off against us.
I never knew this is what it was called until it
Happened to me
In public.
At first it was traumatic
As it came out bellowing like a banshee
And the aromatic bouquet wasn't flowering it
Was a catastrophe.
Rotten egg smell is atomic!
I never knew this is what it was called until it
Happened to me
In public
There was every one staring at me as if I had
Committed murder in the first degree
Over something that is erratic
And the body does automatic
I sat down on the closet bench I laughed
Until the tears rolled down my face as I was
Catching my breath my grandson wondered
If I was alright. I said I don't think my heart has
Felt this free. It is time to finish my shopping
Before they decide to charge me with dispersing
Atomic energy.
I never knew this is what it was called until it
Happened to me
In public.
We are more than what we feel.
I bet you believed we could never heal.
But soon I will spiral into a vision.
Where I have wandered into remission.
I hope that one day I will be able to divine-
A future where all of us have a home that is kind.
But for now I feel fearful.
Of a future where I am banished and tearful.
And that is ok.
It is fine to display.
False hopelessness with anxiety on the horizon.
In this world where corruption is brazen.
But just remember that someday soon, independence will arise.
And that the strangers that used to taunt will fall behind.
Someday soon, you will receive a dusting of hope.
And refine what it means to cope.
Much effort thought and practice,
Blending contents..Then the mix goes active'
Oil on metal, ladle all into that form
While In the process adhere to all norms'
Turn up the heat, and observe the time
That soon will pass, will this turn out fine?
Chime next tells you to open the door'
All looks ready now, firm for sure'
Remove to strengthen, get cool be ready.)
To be cut, get broken hold your emotions steady!
All shall have their piece, such destruction all a part
Not many consuming; will regard your art'
The time, the thought; the cost to make
In the well finished piecrust, made to break!
As all. There your friends and familiy even.!
Some will thank you' while others are just leaving'
Dusting off some crumbs, of comfort uneaten
As they find some fault, like their tables uneven'
Your curtains worn, some lace is frayed
Not to your face will such be played
Yet behind closed doors.' with such and such !?
They'll promise of course, to never tell though
Yet that crust will break, I warrant it will go!
Just as on the cross, as it was in the crust.'
In Men our Lord could place no trust.'
Yet worked salvation, for a dark old world
Now shall we whisper in a treachery?
Or just live life out? for Gods true Word.'