Long Embossed Poems
Long Embossed Poems. Below are the most popular long Embossed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Embossed poems by poem length and keyword.
I’m often walking with a dream,
that no one else can see.
From time to time, it’s in my mind.
It’s such a part of me.
Though I can’t hold it in my hand,
I’ll try to make you understand.
I hear the back roads call my name.
In mystery, I’m drawn…
They hint of treasure, love, and fame,
if I embark by dawn…
I grab my keychain, so embossed -
"Not all who wander far are lost".
Life’s a script, the world - a stage.
Yet many read a single page…
Time to leave, I feel I must,
to satisfy my wanderlust…
Copyright © 2015
I lift you up, delicately
like a bouquet of flames in pink patient fever,
romantically, I rove your surface with fingertips that tingle,
the texture of your treated cover tempts an impatient lover,
I read your Title, Her World, Her War
subtitle, Surviving Sorrow & Love,
your emblem, embossed in opal
a quill spun across a heart spelling your soul,
I spread you open with both hands
my grip holding the breadth of your body
a scent of sensuous ink unfurles into my inquisitive senses
raising you into my fascinated face
smelling the cleavage of your binding
sailing my lips down the center of your special secret
having your silky ribbons root around my fingers,
breathing, in warm curiosity on your exotic fibers,
Loving me as I hold you in wonder,
as I finger your pages with fawning pursuit of pleasure,
speedily you whisper my name with no refrain
as my moist voice recites
your poetry of paradise and pressure points,
I venture deeper into your voluptuous volume
feeling sensations of starlight I do consume,
in your tome of thick passion I find a home,
I like to read you in the suspense of night
searching your love lines, tasting your grape vines,
touching your emotions, embracing your sweet seductions,
you get into my nerves like electric sugar
illuminated by your poems of ardor and prose of candor,
intrigued by the penmanship of a Princess, curvaceous and calculating,
I turn to the Introduction, to see a photo of the great Authoress
a face pretty in courage, a smile of beautiful strategy
your body of work legendary,
I kiss you because I must -
J.A.B.
Even if I die,
My heaven would still be my earth.
My spirit may leave the body,
But the zest and zeal will remain embossed.
Reasons to see it as heaven are justified and over long.
Yes, the other side for me would be full of fun.
Yeah! I have a deal with mom,
I would never leave her alone.
Without me, she would have no body to shout upon.
So, even when on other side, I am still gonna make her crazy,
Sometimes a cute and fragile fairy, sometimes I am gonna be scary.
Strive and be capable of taking everyone along,
But life is just too short to accomplish all we want.
So, that’s a deal with the GOD; I will be at everyone’s service.
I would be a succour spirit, angelic and super sweet!
My naughtiness and chirpiness,
Would go beyond limits.
On top of a snow-capped mountain.
Some times diving at the bottom of the sea.
Sliding on the rainbow,
And dancing to the beats.
How would I miss my basketball and tennis!
Thrill and energy, would still remain in my veins!
For me heaven is a place, I would live happily when I die.
I am so very happy, here under the sky.
Yes, this is gonna be my other side!
If I die, when I get old.
I would be a gossip monger like my granny.
I would pay a few visits to God’s Adobe.
His HR department would be my spot.
Chatting and laughing, helping and caring; forever daring,
Now or then, I will be God’s Own Daughter forever.
HEAVEN POETRY CONTEST
Sponsored by: Regina Riddle
Date: 1st June; 2020
A patriotic fervor producing fealty
A noble cause compelling loyalty
Paired with a callous indignity
Brash enlistee plunges toward destiny
Honor's badge worn with impunity
Duty's moniker embossed with magnanimity
Insatiable bloodlust squelching all insecurity
Unbridled ego clamoring a garrulous enmity
Toward the villains who shattered blithe serenity
First skirmish, pageantry displaced by gravity
Mettle varnished with aura of invincibility
First battle, fallen comrades question mortality
Successive battles, severed limbs, caustic wounds challenge credulity
Fragile mind being conditioned to atrocity
War's heavy mantle now shorn of indemnity
Threatening mind's sanity, hearth's perpetuity
Once faceless foes now scream their humanity
Once noble leaders brim with insincerity
Supportive countrymen now fickle, distant entity
Cheering press now rank with duplicity
Only solace, hardened comrades equanimity
The meadows are charmed and filled with delight.
Presently steeped in the darkness of night
The cool air is warmed as a new day has begun.
She peeps over the horizon, hail praise to the sun.
I settle to watch, inspired by that instant moment,
When night gives over to day, a regal bestowment.
All becomes visible in a grey hue, as we near dawn.
The land comes alive with the heralding of morn.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright,
As the sun embarks on a new journey creating daylight.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
Sunrise is a glowing color of crimson and gold,
As days sun swept veil begins to unfold.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, flickers a scent.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy by intent.
With a sweetness, and a warm tranquil overtone.
I am nestled snugly, captivated by joy I've never known.
Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath sets it flickering as dawn drifts in with its refreshing haze.
The world awakens with a golden glow,
Softly reviving each enchanted meadow.
Soft whispers of the morning fill the air,
With a kaleidoscope of color everywhere.
The dew-kissed petals glisten in the day’s early breeze.
As gentle rustling leaves dance awaken the bees.
In this serene and peaceful morning sight,
The world is wrapped in tranquil delight.
Wild flowers now in full bloom,
Relinquishing their over powering perfume.
Insects busy themselves working, even the tiniest ant.
The meadows drenched in warmth continue to enchant. (5)
Above the heat
the sky is cooling, it’s blue is flecked with ice,
its ghost-written lamp
swept by the upended rags of
a coat-tailing winds
It is a fact
that standing on a high ledge sky-watching the distance
is quintessentially majestic
whether you are a Hitler or a Gandhi
it is its own poetry,
I would strike a heroic pose,
but assume no one else is watching.
There it is - arriving out of a far place,
a living cliché.
The Bald Eagle is high for a natural born scavenger,
soaring above this place where no rabbit runs to hide.
It must have caught a thermal,
let the sky fly it up here.
This whole scene is symbolic.
I look behind me, still no one else here.
It comes nearer,
I think of all the jaded medallions it has been
stamped and embossed upon,
yet here it is
just an existential exclamation point in time,
as I am.
For a moment I am clothed in a noble grandeur
then in a bitter blink
splattered by a smearing of unspeakable crimes.
The eagle veers away
turning deeper into the ice-blue
perhaps it was alarmed or dismayed
by this self-regarding figure
posturing for posterity
upon a highly shaky prospect?
I know it's there somewhere beyond the clouds,
beyond the snow which gently floats and falls
on arborvitae's shoulders like a shawl
and o're the face of summer with a shroud.
Above where prayerful birches rise unbowed;
and stand once more among the proud and tall,
no longer will the season be forestalled
once the gifts of nature are endowed.
Across the forest floor the winter's chased
by waves of green now stirring in the frost -
impatient youths who gasp first springtime breaths
and proudly flaunt the colors they replace,
while buried hints of Autumn are embossed
beneath the ice that feeds upon their death...
~~ I Lovingly Remember~~
I remember being in my crib, hugging my Teddy Bear.
I remember, Mother reading poetry to me.
I remember, dancing and talking to myself, in a tall mirror.
And I remember, getting my first manicure, leather school bag,
with my initials, embossed in gold.
I remember, so well, the scary black-outs in WW II.
I remember, my very first Holy Communion.
I remember, rolling down tall hills of fluffy snow.
I even remember, my first diamond ring, set in rose-gold.
I remember, the joy of walking my playful dog.
But my favorite memory.………is still yet to come!
And on this busy day before a blessed Thanksgiving,
Please SHARE one or two of yours, that is in your memory shining!
Thank you!
With Holiday Hugs….
Panagiota xx
The sky called life gleamed in serenity,
in zephyr floated a butterfly free.
Its tinged wings embossed your beauty,
as flowers bloomed in all seasons for me.
The horizon splashed hues of ecstasy,
to blossom dreams I was on course to fly.
Rapture took me to realm of fantasy,
I didn’t see clouds gathered at edge of sky.
Splintered on threshold of tarnished twilight,
in deep dismay I found my sky’s waste lie,
wane with my dreams in storm of morose night.
Wrecked, I was sucked in stillness of its eye.
The flushed vale turned to pallid wasteland fast,
dry flowers didn’t see new sun rise in sky.
the surge of my tear drowned the pleasant past,
rinsed colors from the wings of butterfly.
January 21, 2021
Syllable count : 10 per line (howmanysyllables.com)
Contest : Watered-Down Juice
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
Heaven is not the word to awaken,
with lemon balm sprig bristle in each lung,
a staunch loam-ridden citrus bouquet,
in an urban copse of dulcet twittering tone,
avian wrens in sweet floral flute glaze,
whose madrigal a charmed chestnut chime,
vast tree canopy quiver note suspense,
clam shell ear tilt of mine to absorb,
scattered mint fragrant leaf strewn carpet,
pale grey glisten brittle branch snap I twig,
rain soak mud clump squelch quaint echo,
still morning usher draped in lambent haze,
teaser trickle stream tucked away a prickle,
deep purple rose bush as dawn shelter,
grass blade tuft flicker on rimmed bypath,
breathless so I am amidst lavish terrain,
spellbound, captivated, eye transfixed,
by clement backcloth to a city in slumber,
indigo blue signpost embossed bold cue,
for empyrean trope as shrewd street élan,
mural chalk mark swirl from deft artist,
gourmet menu flair neath parasol,
overwhelmed, stunned, air passage empty,
yet my first blush stroll sun vital tonic