Long Elysian Poems

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


My Valentine, How You Shine - Part - 4 - Valentine's Collection - 2020

14.
You are ever my Valentine, 
your kisses taste of love’s own wine, 
in beauty’s grace, you ever shine.
Tears of joy, they come from your rose, 
we know that love forever grows, 
come, lie with me, where love’s breeze blows.

A candle flickers in Sol’s light, 
the last morning star, shining bright, 
you are that star, a wondrous sight.
The star is gone from summer skies, 
now, beside me, your temple lies, 
come with me, where the eagle cries.

Two roses join within your dream, 
now, you still dream of love supreme.
15.
You still dream of love supreme, 
within my dreams, you are love’s theme, 
you are the gold, flowing through dream.
Love ever shines within your heart, 
love’s fanfare, once more it does start, 
from you, my love, I shall not part.

Your golden stream sings in my mind, 
a golden rose, I now do find, 
you are beauty, wondrous and kind.
Love comes to grow in passion’s deep, 
yours is the love, I ever keep, 
you come to me, each time I sleep.

Such golden warmth, in golden stream, 
you are ever the golden dream.
16.
You are ever the golden dream, 
you are summer, within Sol’s beam, 
you are love’s song, you are love’s theme.
You are summer within my mind, 
the golden light, so warm and kind, 
your smile I ever wish to find.

You smile, my love, my heart feels fun, 
you give your hand and off we run, 
into the heart of love’s own sun.
Through dreams of love, we both shall go, 
through day and night our love aglow, 
Oh, beauty’s breath, your love I know. 

You are love’s sun, ever shining, 
our love is ever divining.
17.
Our love is ever divining, 
never shall our love be pining, 
our love’s sun is ever shining.
Elysian dreams are for you, 
within a sky of azure blue, 
your heart is beating love so true.

Your heart beats love, within green fields, 
take all the passion your love yields, 
come, lie in emerald green fields.
Lithe and limber, do journey on, 
the gold of the sun, never gone, 
love shall be ours until the morn’.

You ae wonder, sing in my dream, 
the light of summer, so supreme.
Form: Sonnet


Premium Member Almost Xanadu - First Place Contest Winner

Written: June 14, 2023

Pick-A-Title, Vol 37 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh 
______________________________________________________________
Amidst the rolling hills and verdant green,
Lies a land of arcane, almost Xanadu if seen.
A place of ariose where dreams are born,
And the sun rises each day as an auric crown.

In this Elysian land, time seems to stand still.
Worries and troubles fade away, as if by will.
Here, one can find peace and tranquility.
The beauty of nature is its canorous serenity.

Glory in magenta and gold hues in the sky
The birds emit an opera of tunes as they fly.
The aroma of fresh flowers floods the air.
Trees soar high, their limbs rising in a blare.

Going upward, I have faith in my heart.
Through gloomy slopes and twisty parts.
The peaks are starting to come into sight.
Their tops were aurified with golden light.

I wander through this nebulous land of bliss.
And fathom a sensation of perspicuous peace.
I realize that I have embedded my idyllic place,
An oasis of diaphanous passion and grace.

Almost akin to Xanadu, an island of dreams.
It motivates me with whispered schemes.
The seal of the blessing of a utopian paradise
A realm where loveliness is eternal never dies.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member After the Storm

After The Storm

Night falls harshly and the door sharply slams
on all happiness and each hopeful thought
Left with insincere smiles and a million scams
A blunt, cruel harshness is now my lot

At dawn I awake as angry gusts surge
They lurch into gales, harsh storms hades sent
Bronze, yellow, and crimson leaves soar and merge
Soaring, swirling down to rain-pelted cement

Afternoon enters cloudless, balmy and bright
Soft breezes fleet by in wafts gentle and warm
Now rising, now falling, and buoyant and light
In Elysian Fields I settle after the storm

The tumult of anguish and bitter despair
break away and drift off this glorious night
There’s a feel of pending joy in the air
as the door flings open and lets in the light

Quatrains
Written 8/22/22
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member A Zen Meditation

A lush mountain of scintillating pines,
breathe in elevating bouquet,
breathe out the tension.

Sentinels wave in lilting breeze,
breathe in radiant light,
breathe out ossifying stress.

A gentle terrain in silent air,
breathe in oxygen,
breathe without care.

Soft soil rests in light repose,
breathe in light beauty,
allow heart to share.

Here in nature’s gentle grace,
introspection’s a healing balm;
peace of enlightenment reigns.

In nature, I feel peace within
and God speaks gently on the winds,
so soft the voice now flows.

We are the same, this earth and I
to care for her, I do avow
aligned harmonically.

This elysian womb is our home;
no living thing’s ever alone,
all is one, all is zen.

 

2-26-2021
Inner alignment Poetry Contest
Unseeking Seeker

Some Different Kind of Lost Heaven

"Some Different Kind of Lost Heaven"

Every once and a while
she would surface 
from that brackish 
dark place 

as a nightingale sings
in the deepest pockets
of a Woolf, the rocks
heavy notes, are removed 

and like Persephone
escape doesn’t arrive
freely, but burns for some 
slight duration, listing selvedge

staggered freedom found
spreading wings wide
along the unsteady horizon
the sunrise lights her song

‘til the dark horses
of Pluto rampage in 
steal her back out of time
to place of labyrinth twined

in fields of Elysian poppies
dreams put to sleep 
behind closed eyes 
some different kind

of lost heaven
where forever is night
where the lost 
Nightingales sing

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)



“Nuit”/ Tony Anderson
https://youtu.be/WZ0WVUMrnyk

“Lune”/ Tony Anderson
https://youtu.be/Zd7gQZs0Ut8

“Nightingale” / Tony Anderson
https://youtu.be/ZJgcAmGOGEw





“I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; 
and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in.”
(Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out)

“I feel so intensely the delights of shutting oneself up 
in a little world of one’s own, with pictures and music 
and everything beautiful.”
(Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out)

“I want to write a novel about Silence," he said; 
“the things people don’t say.”
(Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out)





Persephone. 
Pluto.
Woolf.


Premium Member Dynamic Chorus

Ubiquitous sun
consuming through icy shadows
amidst winter chorus

Delphic paean on elysian winds
lustral chorales in
amber chronicles

Slowly sung, it's a lullaby of dreams
with moonlight charms
lulling you to sleep

I need to remember this night
the light we ignite within
shedding our sin

We soar boldly into silky shards
my ankles wobble, and I sway
Meekness left me speechless.

maintain moss's fear of tinkering
eroded by wear and tear
like a battered victory.

reaching out to the darkness
can the night swallow me?
hiding tinges of mellifluous tones.

In the rustle of leaves
hides a melody,
soulful as a barren call.

radiates an indomitable spirit
fears and quandaries cloud firm-level
in a shroud of myopia.

because rivers can't be crossed twice
switch to callow intrigue
tea is a lone integer in a ripening world.

Written: January 30, 2023

Brian Strand Contest No 1178 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Gaia

Garnering a myriad colors from the sunlight
and sparkles from the silvery moon
She embraces nature in her bosom
and embellishes the cerulean sky.
No God is born without a womb
Nor the devil without a mind,
Her loin spawns the firmament
as she breathes the universe into motion;
Her milk forms the streams, the lakes,
the flowing rivers and the vast oceans,
Her tears form the rolling clouds
and nourishe the flora and fauna,
She rides upon the wings of the wind
and heralds the sun-god each day
in its burning chariot.

    When she shuts her eyes
    she causes icy wilderness
    When she opens them
    It blossoms into the Elysian Fields.


~11/27/15
~Open Poetry contest by Charlotte Jade Puddifoot

Elysian Killing Fields

Your Elysian Killing Fields-
Your soul, my Love,
is the pristine gilded white,
that cascades down from Heaven's summit.
A river that fills me, a dry riverbed,
with your milk and honey.
Your current carrying me along,
to your eternity.
Eternally, flowing along,
your emotional streams,
towards your heart's tributary.
A maelstrom of passion,
pulling me down into your pools,
solitary actions.
In solitary enormity, destiny-adjoining.
You are my clandestine pulse-
that regulates my being,
with sacred verse.
You are the specter in my blood.
The scepter of my throne,
With you I can believe, in anything,
except for being alone.
Anything, everything you do.
Winds around me as a grapevine, entertwining.
The seduction to drink from your cup.
The ambrosial wine, your overflowing,
flowing into me.
Your passionate canvas calls to me,
to sculpt in its delicate flowering.
In hungered heaves,
when your rib cage expands.
Anticipating,
your Dove's-wanting to be freed.
Only, by my hand.
Free as the flame's flare,
the burning, consuming.
As I stare into you,
feeling your Crimson Fires, there.
Feeling as though, stalked prey.
In your Elysian Killing Fields.
Euphoria in sway,
atop your succubant meal.
My fate's threshold, crossed and sealed.
Helpless to your Impish ways.
I remain held, by your captivating allure.
The intoxicating poison of your capture.
Poison of your angelic tainting,
that runs through me,
clouding evermore.
The Conductor of the chemicals within me.
You entrench, your surrounding,
that abounds around me.
The Ballerina of the Little Death.
In sourcery, comes,
seduction's breath-The dance- of the seven veils.
Perpetual, into hunger's ballet,
which permeates, the skin,
burroughing its ethereal entrails.
You're always a puzzle,
a timeless wonder,
always to be.
The first of my needs.
If you turned to be the Devil's Daughter.
I fear he would have me, indeed.
My Love, the other part of me.
With this dream-
I pledge my Love to thee.
Yes, you are the ghost within my wings.
I am a phoenix rising from the sea.
Bring me out into your spring.
where I will drown,
in your farthest reaches.
Life to me, you will endlessly be instrumental in, as the Lords revival brings.
The Elite warrioress from Elysia to
Elate me, inflate me to Life from my dreams.
Form: Rhyme

Fully Booked 1

You gave yourself for unknown cause 

unknown cause , you served without pause 

served without pause , for duty called

duty called, you could not have stalled 

you could not have stalled , left youth's charms 

left youth's charms , for Elysian Farms.


Requeim and - A Farewell To Arms !


~ 10 Jun 2016~

Contest Name: TITLES OF NOVELS - Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud
Name of Novel : A  Farewell To Arms ( Ernest Hemingway)

My form: 
A rhymed poem restricted to 7 lines following strict syllable count (8 in my poem, could be any number), any rhyme scheme can be followed. The last few words shoul be repeated as the first few words of succeeding line. The 7th line is different - it need not follow the repetition of words from previous line. The last line should be the conclusion of the poem, following same syllbic count as the rest of the poem.
Form: Rhyme

Scads of Decades Ago

Scads of decades ago...

Metaphorical mama's yoyo
came undone, unleashing woe
doggone wizard of oz sought in toto
afore final picture show
would play staging pro
sic cuter determining
irrevocable fate oh no!

Approximately this time of year
(circa mid December) as
Christmas holiday doth near,
yours truly donning his unrecognizable
incognito custom tailored corporeal wear
well worn, timeworn, and careworn

birthday suit - most
frightening Halloween scare
transient boyhood lad
spooked with fear
courtesy grizzled old man,
who toothless doth glare

at much younger self
sporting scraggly gray hair
searches happy go lucky,
innocently naive, fancy free
and footloose spare
slip sliding away shy kid 'ere

timid, solitary, reservedly...
imperfect triangulated square
peg in round hole
quizzically, soundlessly... mere
roaring, reflecting, and ruminating
riddled with despair

methinks him foreigner, stranger, harbinger...
unavoidable, hellacious, catastrophic...
pitfalls he ain't aware
impossible mission to bolster near
deadly encounters with
maniacal mailer daemons

stealing his harmony, jollity, spontaneity...
knocking him out stone cold no prayer,
nor wing can revive, he will appear,
whence straddling prepubescence
agonizingly scared shuffling, skulking
sputtering... collapsing upon

his scrawny derriere
bony posterior subjected
necessary iron injections
courtesy Harriet Harris (mother)
licensed practical nurse buttressing

emaciated frame hiding her tear
filled eyes, while sole son
wishes grim reaper cursed harridan
freely clutching him onto elysian fields,
where abound spirits
of grateful dead everywhere.

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