Long Embroider Poems
Long Embroider Poems. Below are the most popular long Embroider by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Embroider poems by poem length and keyword.
Poppies burn like love under the sun that births longing,
Let me ask for forgiveness, to touch your face with light,
To be your sunbeam, to be a halo on your delicate brow,
To caress your skin with a sweet breeze, a zephyr that caresses the wheat,
Let my smile seduce you, let longing flow over your waist.
The evening wind gently blows over the field of burning poppies,
The ripe bosom to be caressed by the almond-shaped eyes' eyelid,
To lose ourselves among the fields in the fiery and ember sunset,
On partridge wings, feel the yearnings that break through.
A fire in our chests that scorches, disappearing for just a moment,
Feel the ember of the eyes, the living longing slowly taking shape,
I, enamored with you, feel through gazes how I lose you,
To run to catch you in play, to gently caress you.
I weave poppy flowers in golden rays and wheat spikes,
To embrace you at my chest, to hear what the heart says,
Mad with happiness, only the horizon to know our secret,
To sip the dewdrops from the poppies in bloom.
With my heart, I chase after your soft and hot lips,
I want to unlock the magic in your black and gentle eyes,
To cool our mouths by extinguishing the ember of burning eyes,
From poppy petals to sip sweet whispers of love.
The fleeting moment is a feast without a shadow of bitter regret,
I lock your love in the chest of my penetrating heart,
Listening to how happiness echoes from the field in trills,
Forgive me for daring to steal your loving heart.
I embroider with poppy flowers longings that burn deep in the chest,
The secret thought refreshed in a carefully kept secret pocket,
Forgive the heart's mistake if longing blinded me,
Too sweet was the lure, too strongly it bewildered me.
A sword of the heavens did glean
From railings and arbors
of dead thorn and bramble,
where ghostly reminders remain
Fall droplets of blood ‘pon
a crimson embroider
left carelessly out in the rain
Our story begins
in a deep mountain valley,
a village so peaceful and free
When one day the darkness
did unsheathe its horror
with metal and death you will see
The army of Satan,
a wicked battalion,
Hell’s fire their sabers were forged
Dark Skeletal visions
in leather and armor
the depths of the earth had been gorged
With razor sharp weapons,
they slashed and delivered
such pain which had never been found
Through echoes of pleading
and lives quickly ending
in puddles, thick red on the ground
While women and children
were herded like cattle
in mass to the edge of the square
With onyx eyes leering,
midst snickers and cackles,
their captors insanely did stare
When on the horizon
a light brightly shining,
engulfing this nightmarish scene
A porcelain stallion,
its rider a shadow,
a sword of the heavens did glean
From steel hard as granite,
angelic depictions,
a handle of pure solid gold
Once heard in a fable,
when wizards were roaming
such power, the stories foretold
As swift as an arrow
he entered the village,
his steed all at one with the game
With blade silver glistened,
like lightning bolts flashing,
igniting a righteous born flame
Spinning and thrusting
as if a tornado,
a blur now incensed of the glow
With whirlwind fury
and dust clouded thunder,
he dealt them a terrible blow
The evil fueled army,
beheaded and fallen,
the villagers shouted and cheered
When to their amazement,
this heroic savior
as quick as he’d come, disappeared
So there is the story,
a sword made in heaven
is now part of history’s reign
Along with the rider
who wielded its honor,
and hopes he will come back again
9/13/18
Written for the UNSHEATH YOUR SWORD Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
Do you wait for it to just pass?
Swallowing up their hurtful gaze?
If so, then take this day as your last.
You always have someone else's stance,
Never thought of what remains.
Do you wait for it to just pass?
Does the way you yourself dance,
Always have a different pace?
If so, then take this day as your last.
Worry not, you're a blooming flower among grass!
Embroider yourself in the sun's rays—
Do you wait for it to just pass?
Feeling ripped in a single hard glance,
Like your confidence has been set ablaze?
If so, then take this day as your last.
I know the idea's hard to grasp,
But this truth is not just a phase.
Do you wait for it to just pass?
If so, then take this day as your last.
sorrows
of the night
dew
falls
tenderly
upon hearts
of loneliness
breath
words
soft spoken
disperse
the light
into
purple
shadows
soft
as honey
in
precincts
of pleasantness
blissful
sweet
murmers
delicate
as nectar
bring
mist to the eyes
loves
elegance
a safe neighbour
fair
to look upon
paler
than summer
grass
sweet flowers
to
treasure
as
the golden
sun
tyranny&
tenderness
of love
manifest
in particles
limpid
living streams
gold
tinted lines
quivering
lustres
of splendour
charm&
cloud the eyes
delicious
laughter
sweet sounding
flare
afresh
from a sacred
grove
caresses
revery
&radiance
bloom
in a whirlwind
of
longing
return favour
to the eyes
embroider
and salute
worship
devoted
to
beauty
The experience of penning one's thoughts to paper
for the perusal of others
offers a certain inner satisfaction
that must be experienced to be appreciated;
letting your words guide you
to a deeper appreciation of your surroundings and self.
Poets do not garner feelings from their pens,
but from their hearts;
for the pen is but a brush and the page a canvas
upon which to paint dreams, desires, and thoughts.
The underlining passion
and potency of the written word
can be cathartic;
when it is your thoughts that embroider the page.
Intimate feelings are allowed to drift
through those thoughts,
and gather between the lines of each verse.
A poet's words, like a poultice,
can draw emotions
from the wounds of memory,
and catapult the reader into a reality
previously undiscovered.
A poet, using a creative collage of tinder thoughts
stirs the embers of conformity,
hoping to ignite sputtering flames of awareness.
Spring seems to teeter-totter back and forth,
as Winter counterchecks each move it makes
to wiggle free from the grip of the North.
Winter has both feet firmly on the brakes,
aiming to stay put, whatever it takes.
April rains morph into flurries of snow;
and disappointment fuels frustration.
There are few signs that Spring will ever show;
and Hope morphs into a sad sensation,
as Winter extends Her occupation.
Though Winter's overextended Her stay,
some daffodils are beginning to sprout;
and migrating songbirds are on their way.
Spring will arrive; of that, there's little doubt;
but I miss Her most when it's snowing out.
When the soil thaws, it's Winter's undoing,
as patches of grass embroider the scene.
The snowmen melt, while life starts renewing;
and grey skies slowly turn aquamarine,
as Spring unfurls leaves of emerald green.
Death ! I’m not afraid of you, you are a balm
come softly with long dark muscular arms
carry me into deep crimson flute melodies
where I will float with pink wreaths, a remedy
Here tenderly I embrace your breezy ripples
through Tunnel of Light, past heavenly officials
trumpets announcing my awaited joyous arrival
name embellished across peaceful sky, as recital
Delicate sugarbird wings will sway at ankles
lifting me into lilting velvet deep spangles
purple-gold lotus on engraved jewelled crown
butterflies bringing etheric ambrosia profound
Wild winds hum hymns with Star unconcerned
You will embroider my spirals with fragile ferns
faraway rains always fill sparkling trout streams
Death, I’m not afraid of You, hug me, my Dream !
eventide drizzles
rhythm of colors
dancing as dainty ballerina
with twilight tinsels
transient
of ripped rainbow rinds
captured at golden fringe
of cloud clumps
coalesced
as heavenly hues
descend at crescendo
of cosmic ballet
at ebony edge
of onyx night
squashed sordid sky
enwrapped embellished
by the last sunset tinge
waits in somber seclusion
for rain-rinsed pliant petals
to unfurl unsung
aurora of afflatus
to embroider ecstasy
on halcyon horizon
with lattice of luminance
splendorous
juvenile smile
sparkling sapphire
of innate innocence
configures purity
integral
cascades as crystalline stream
in verdant valley
finite
of fleeting youth
for a yearning while
with ageless naïve aura
inundating self-effacingly
pristine plateau of
unsullied face
immaculate
flash-flooded with fantasy
consumed being
at the edge of time
waits unsure
at doorstep of destiny
wipes dense obscurity dust
salvages fossilized smile
of petrified portrait
on crumpled canvas
of buoyant senile life
sanguine
On the weary wings of winter the northern winds depart,
their harsh whisper in the frozen air
the frost-fastened mulberry trees hear,
“wait, you’ll listen the sweet music soon,
don’t despair, the serenading southern breeze
will embrace you with verdant melody”.
The misty mask melts, turning the sky into cobalt cauldron,
the ambrosia of resurgence drizzles the aura diaphanous air.
The gossamer clouds gorgeously embroidered
appear with the wispy ribbons of regal robe.
Lured by the shifting shapes of their soft shadow
the mulberry foliage begins to unfurl the malachite fresco.
The burgeoning branches flutter with emerald wings,
nascent leaves look up with budding fruits to the rising sun,
draping them with the patina of new verve rising high.
For the lofty trees the sprawling luxuriant life has begun,
as the lively boughs raise the copious canopy to the sky.
On the cadenced flow of the joyous zephyr
the berry fragrance finds the aromatic course,
trailed by the beguiled butterflies,
flittering in the rhythmic waves of jade symphony.
When the leaves offer the amorous cradle in sunburst morn,
the monarch butterflies make lilting aerial lattice,
entwined with the sailing sequins of the chromatic dawn dust,
they flitter in its cadence, searching for the larval host.
The heavenly beauty of the scene sublime unfolds
as the butterflies dance with ethereal exuberance.
When the rippling winds sing the moonshine song,
sparkling silver lines embroider dulcet design in drifting clouds,
reflected subtly in the mesmeric motif of the butterfly wings,
fluttering in the tempting tune of the mystique moondust melody,
the midnight hour contours the image of bliss with divine glow,
as the butterflies dance to the rapturous rhythm
of mulberry rhapsody in the garden of love.
I rest my head on his shoulder
Thinking that it was all over
I thought I was there but I was
Still floating in the air, parachuting
Through the galaxy gliding with the stars
And reminiscing the glory of my living years
I could not tell the difference
Between day and night
or the morning from the evening
For the moon was nowhere in sight
And there was no daylight, but a
Colorful bliss wet my appetite
Oh what magnificent sight
The galaxy opens into a tunnel
And I cruise through it absorbing
The essence of life in space
A magnet beauty embroider within
and in seconds our destiny begins
a million light years have passed
since we evolve out of the dark
with the speed of light
until everything was out of sight
It arose my emotion and evoke every sensory
Glands and I drift in space
I mingle with the colors of light and
Behold the beauty of the human race
And everything suddenly came in place
And it was all where it begins
Midnight transformed into daylight
And fill my heart with the mystical peace
I drenched myself in the solitude of the moment
And absorb the sweet romance in my mind
And I was lost in time
I knew the ecstatic bliss was coming to an end
When I felt the blood running through my vein
Something got hold of my feet and I knew that
The mission was complete, we lay it all down
In the middle of ocean bed and gravity had me bound
The crowd descends on shore and they wanted more
Everyone was waiting for me to celebrate the victory.
Just lay it down and wonders will come to your town.