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.
Emblazoned with your monogram
Call me your little coin
Design of us more sacred than
Meteor's noon anoint
Howling homeless Winter lingers
Fingers in our trove
Should cruelty a blizzard bring us
Brave summoned in droves
Prisoners whispered confidence
Shared worries are gone
Mortar between us is credence
Knife edge secret sworn
Bearers we, of mightiest sword
Armor repels feeble
Donjon detains nightly reward
Rejoinder agreeable
For every required expenditure
Little Coin will cater
Conjured to find replenishment
Future emblazoned
Energised by mammoth missions
Carved as arrowhead
Morale for your instinctive vision
Richness never spent
26th August 2020
I am love’s kiss eternal
leaning upon
the lips of loyalty
O artisan of relentless flare
I validate every verse you vent
vehemently breathing
through the sighing silence ~
venerating this sculpted ivory skin
stirred and awakened
by your inherent intuition
charmingly echoing
amidst the faithful fingers
of your passionate soul;
a carved creation
chiseled in chivalry
draped in the desire
of a destiny designed
engraved away
from the ruthless rays
of the sinister sun…
I am awake…
no longer a marble metaphor
but alive and entranced
within the shadow
of your affectionate allegiance
listening to the
aroma of this ache
tracing this toned silhouette
resembling the translucent
textures of the moon ~
deaf to the twilight
chimes of the sky,
as the clay of life
nevermore comprehends
this ethereal vow,
this undeniable flame
softened through
the stone-warm touch of truth ~
as your creative choreography
of calligraphy
caresses every curve
embracing imperfect perfection
like I am
the undressed dream
you have forever wrapped
in porcelain patience
like angel-feathered Venus
with blushing wings
of gothic grace ~
scattered seashells
adorned where
thoughts of infinity tiptoe
through Aphrodite’s galaxies
beneath flickers of reveries…
and I belong to no other
but the paradise
within your familiar hands
holding the hope
that dwells within
the heavens of my heart’s pulse
like a forsaken talisman ~
the kismet rose...thornless,
only you were
fated to keep ~
the embossed emblem
of love
even time itself
cannot defy
*Inspired by the artwork "
Pygmalion and Galatea by Jean-Léon Gérôme"
Went to sleep last night reading poems by Robert Frost
So tired was I that the book slipped and fell then
Stirring in my dreams was visions of chimney's exhaust
The chimney's sparks did fly even though cut off
As in the poem that he wrote " The Kitchen Chimney"
Went to sleep last night reading poems by Robert Frost
A tale he told of " The Willy-Nilly Slide" which he embossed
With Brown carrying the lantern by his side, so
Stirring in my dreams was visions of chimney's exhaust
In the poem "Evening In A Sugar Orchard" where sparks up chimney glossed
Over the brilliance of the distance stars, as I
Went to sleep last night reading poems by Robert Frost
In his poem "Love And A Question" about the bride by the fire engrossed
And of the "Old Man's Winter Night" as the log fell in the stove brought to
Stirring in my dreams was visions of chimney's exhaust
From the fire that once burned in the hearth
And now to sleep it seems to have gone
Went to sleep last night reading poems by Robert Frost
Stirring in my dreams was visions of the chimney's exhaust
(Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets so this is about him.)
Ironed Shadows
by Odin Roark
Her hands lay smooth
the coveralls worn thin
now wrinkled
once charged with earth
Mended armor from
courageous prices paid
embossed with crosshatched mending
stands raised in triumph
A home plate remembered
by innocence long abandoned
players made humble from
a boy's first slide for life
Vapors rise
from sprinkled droplets of water
beneath handled hot steel
making ready once more
the crusted wafer-thin reason
for kneeling to a non-questioned answers
Facing coerced submission to other games
a purple-robed relentless hand
feeds rewards from gilded plate
accompanied by whispering silver tongue
Such are the scoring points of yet another kind
Youth's pure white
once starched crisp
ever ready for combat
now labors thread bare
atop shoulders and arms
riding the reach for caramel-lathered memories
chased down with silver chaliced promises from still wider mouths
Where goes the love-smooth ironing hand now?
Costumes of rumpled thread
made anew by hot-pressed caresses
now like the ether of memory
drift up past the seeing eyes into untethered emptiness
Tread carefully
lest you become wrinkle-free expediency
sliding voraciously into digital home plates
forever kneeling faithfully before promised obsolescent rewards
delivered smilingly from reflective platters
tarnishing quickly
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?
Angels are busy in the sky...I think!
Rolling giant golden barrels to give these desert lands a drink.
I hear the barrels rolling, oops! One tossed over the side!
A flash of gold was spotted, and it brought with it a tide!
Crashing! Splashing! Water!
With every barrel drop,
Cascading in a current over Mother Nature's crop
"Keep em' rolling lads!" Thunderous laughter ripples hills,
Dead rivers rise to life and flow
The basin quickly fills
Gold barrels tossed and clouds embossed, then silver
Poured on earth...
The dormant seed refreshed at need
Gold flowers glow,
Rebirth!
*********************************************************************************************
On a golden carpet of lustrous laurel
another red leaf in amber blaze gleams,
twirling to trumpets in waltz so aural
blanket of glorious crimson autumn dreams.
Iridescent veil orchestrates blue fir trees
maple shimmers in draped sequins of crystal dew,
swaying to layered hums of shivering breeze
blazing in flames of proliferous mauve hue.
Immersed in aroma of wet mountain slumber
lavender dusk nervously cuddles silver frost,
spreading gossamer melody on emerging umber
bathing in scarlet rays, broken twigs embossed.
Symphony of scintillating fervent topaz seas
disperses from azure palate on electric sky,
dripping to crevices of haloed tides to appease
mellows of echoing wind for sandcastles to fly.
Exploding ecstasy of an embellished petal springs
peeping through rivulets in reaping wisps of desire,
to a moonlit bridge, my whispering red leaf clings
longing to strum tender strings in autumn's bonfire.
August 6, 2020
Nature Rhyming Poetry Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
~Winner: 2nd Place
The Southern Cross’ trajectory across
the night sky marks the hours that come to pass.
Her prone figure no longer an hourglass;
by the silvery light of Phoebe’s* gloss.
I cling to the edge of the bed, toss
and turn—my reminiscing turns to farce.
Hebe† has long since fled and passion is sparse.
As inscriptions on wedding rings embossed:
‘May our love last forever and a day.’
Eos, turn me into a cicada black!‡
Unlike lovesick Orpheus,** I’m not fey
and I would definitely not turn back
for another round of intimate play.
As lover, she had given me the sack!
I endure constant flak
from my mates down at the pub over pint
that I’m in a terrific moral bind;
inspiration is slack.
If only we could turn back aging clock:
Oh, Selene,†† you might espy lovers who flock
to her bed and lose track.
Arriving through a carriage in red mold
Lady of Fall spills colors which behold...
Adorning the view in an ornate drape
Her opals strewn along the flamed landscape;
Rolling through Autumn’s fire and kindled mirth
To endow a season with lush rebirth!
How her blossoms rise in mauve and yellow
Declaring passion as stars waltz for a flow...
And hues turn crystal, gentle not rough
Lusty in night's fold... soft like a cloud's puff,
While flushed is that smile like her gown embossed
Till varnished leaves glimmer on boughs tossed.
~
Lingering on, then waving a bright hand
She drifts off... awed by her queenly command.
'''''''''''''''''''''''
Colorful Fall Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
Entered 9/20/2018
As youth’s bright flame slowly fades to gray
Time’s hand weaves its threads of silver hue
Each dawn’s the same, we count another day
Our memory cleaves, and aging faces view
Yet with the years, comes wisdom’s gentle grace
Experience, a gift, well worth the cost
Wrinkles and fears, stories etched upon each face
Our spirits lift, in memories embossed
We may grow old, but love remains the same
In tender hearts, it’s flame forever burns
Through trials so bold, life’s ever-shifting game
Our friendship starts, and loyalty, it earns
So let the years advance, let them unfold
For growing old is life’s sweet tale retold