Long Enchantment Poems
Long Enchantment Poems. Below are the most popular long Enchantment by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enchantment poems by poem length and keyword.
This Tranquility
by Amy Swanson
shimmers of light
heaven soft ...
sparkling stardances
moonlit mist ...
*do you remember*
echoes ...
(oh so faint)
of far away
yesterdays
in my soul's memory
*Glittering*
*dream-dust*
violet *iridescence*
falling new
re-awakening
my spirit
to dream again...
within this ageless garden
simplicity's oasis
Silver-soft
cascade ...
mystic waterfall
hues of rainbowed light
sun-drenched prisms
crystalline pure
flow down
from heaven's realms
~ melting ~
into this rushing river
of my soul...
my
self...
with waves of blissful peace
Listen close-!
serenity's song --
only the heart
can hear
these gentle strains ...
melodious enchantment
harmonious
joyous
Lush forest green -
life, alive
Warm marigold glow -
sunshine, envelopes
... all becoming
this tranquility.
For a long time, I dreamed
Of a place where fairies doth sing
Heaven perhaps or a never before seen sight
Filled with love and celestial lights
Where I can see the Aurora in the twilight
or witness an angel living in disguise
Oh, the beauty and passion of a fresh dream
Pure, like the heart of an innocent child
No longer do I find joy in things I have seen a thousand times
For let it night or day, what hath come and what may
There is sadness in me that cannot be expressed through poetical lines
Thousand years ago, I saw the tree of life
But to me, it spoke of nothing but lies
There were many roads I looked upon
All promised fake happiness that is long gone
Speaking through prophecies that were sweet
Doth every time the same tale of sorrow was a repeat
An endless journey of suffering,
Man oblivious to the reality, considering him to be everything
Indeed a beautiful thought that spring
I have seen the ravens singing in apposed
Each now and then spring comes and goes
The smell of a field filled with wheat or the beauty of a rose
A boy blushing at a girl, the birth of an innocent love story
Seeing angels doing God's work or reading the devil's diary
I have witnessed life’s enchantment in all its glory
I have seen mothers singing Lullabies
Of a peaceful world where children never cry
"Sleep dear child, for in dream angels will come and hurt all bad guys
And after you wake, God will turn this hell into a paradise"
Yet I know, everywhere I go, a dreadful melancholy thought
That the promises will soon prove to be lies
The soldiers in war will all die
That their children and wives will not be able to survive
Curse of immortality, I have seen kingdoms rise and fall
In the heart of a demon, I have seen the belief in God
From the mountains to the sea
There is nothing more left for me to see
And lies loneliness no pleasure of life can fulfill
For I also once loved, but now lies only memories
When will this suffering end, this constant guilt?
The monster I am, all the innocent people I have killed
Curse to the immortality by which I live
The meanest gift gods had offered me to give
All the sadness, broken heart, and fears
A song of songs, too deep for tears
28 April 2022
For the Contest " If I were Immortal"
Sponsor " Anoucheka Gangabissoon"
Let me tell you a story . . .
It happened long ago and once upon a time in an enchanted forest,
This is the story of Sleeping Beauty of the Woods, but not the Grimm tale;
of your childhood, oh no, this one is completely but not totally different.
Now, the King of the woods, King Wind and the Queen, Queen Rain,
Had a beautiful girl child and she was known as Princess Nature;
She had seven fairy godmothers, there was Wit, fairy of changing skies,
Grace, of rippling streams, Dance, of falling leaves, Song, of the birds, and;
Music, of each new dawn, and of course there was Night, of dreams,
And the last fairy was called Magic . . .
Oh I forgot, there was an eighth fairy, an evil one, called Winter.
That evil fairy, Winter was so jealous and mean that she cast an enchantment,
On Princess Nature, that should she prick her finger on a thorn;
She would die, but the seventh fairy, Magic reversed the curse somehow,
The Princess would not die should she prick her finger but fall asleep;
Asleep for one hundred years, and could only be awakened by a certain kiss.
The woods was a lovely place of emerald green and hanging mosses,
but also there were places of brambles and thorns, and one day, sadly;
Princess Nature pricked her finger on a thorn and fell into a deep sleep.
The woods became quiet and nothing moved, winter and frost came;
It covered everything and the woods froze for one hundred years.
Then a Prince came through the tall trees, he had heard of these woods,
Heard the story of the sleeping Princess, and his name was Prince Spring;
He cut through the ice with his sun sword and soon found the Princess,
Kneeling he kissed her and she awakened and the woods awakened too.
And of course, they married, and lived happily ever after...
_________________________
January 27, 2016
Poetry/Narrative/Sleeping Beauty - Once Upon A Time
Copyright Protected, ID 16-749-715-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Your best Poem From Any Laura Loo Contest
Sponsor, Laura Loo
First Place
__________________________________
Written for the contest, Once Upon A Time,
sponsor, Laura Loo
Second Place
The Dragon Riders Saga II
The Dragon had returned to the clearing where he'd left his rider near neardeath
Hearing the strange tale brought mission purpose back and fire to his breath
A healer had found his friend somehow from the the universe of magic unknown
Now time was precious and running out their mission together again had grown
Just then to the Dragon came a voice upon the wind, was this sorcery?
A voice he had heard before long ago and was not mistakable or a forgery
His rider was the only one to ever communicate this way, prophecy had sworn
Something that was trained into them from the time they both were born
I'm the Princess of the Elves, you may know my name as I'm Oshshewelle
I have returned life to your rider he's now alive and will do well
The Dragon listened closely and his riders heart was now beating so strong
He thought can I trust this elf and what if I may be foolish and wrong
My rider and I are ready to fight again he thought back to the elven princess
To defeat this spell of evil darkness will be the end and our success
I gave your rider a talisman for the magic you'll need to win this fight
To Blood Mountain Lake you two must make this battle in flight this night
Take the Golden Armor and shield forged by magic wizardry in the art of steel
To protect you from the magic of the Mage's spells he will cast with zeal
To break the blackest enchantment it's guardian you two must defeat
Like you, a Dragon born of legend, there it's Taricrex you'll meet
Tis insanity that you speak of the Dragon screamed to the Princess elf
Tis suicide you ask of us! This quest of yours is purest madness itself
Even if we have the Golden Armor, shield, and antiquities rune inscribed sword
You know prophecy, the only one to wield them must by birthright be a lord
Not for may centuries has there been one with royal blood flowing in his veins
Tis magic trickery you speak with, I have long known there are none who remains
Your rider has all these and you were never told for good reason he has the blood too
He was not born a rider, he was hidden, I speak only the truth to you
This secret is entrusted to you for right now, with your rider it's not yet shared
For this he cannot yet know, and surly not until he is much more prepared
It was a long time ago,
ten thousand years or so,
when magic and crows,
held premium pose
and place among many untold.
It mattered not if there was heat or cold,
all the people sang my praise in rowse.
That day's victory will go down in history,
and I had been the hero in that story.
There was a time when a mighty army marched across the seven seas
and along came Thynus, the crooked wizard.
Bizzare in appearance and manner of enchantment,
striking terror in the camp of my people,
sending shivers to their very spine.
They stood aloof and goofed around,
knowing of nothing to do but prayed aloud
to gods who barely stuck around.
The army did come to battle but not with arms of flesh.
For they did not set in array as it is accustomed of war.
They merely camped around many days,
waiting till we die away
from famine thirst and decay;
for Thynus the fierced and crooked,
stood at a mountain just a stone throw from our gate,
that to our very gate we stood away.
The evil Thynus kept howling and growling
and they all howled at the moon,
praying to gods too afraid to aid.
Then I arose,
a small way pass infant or so,
as the people did described me.
Looking away from the gods
to view the other side of the coin,
I felt myself mightier sub rosa than any god,
in contrast to the small cog in a large wheel as they saw me.
But my heart was purer than Nemesis,
nobler than Zeus,
and lofty as Odin.
So I refused to pay them back in their own coin
Moving swifter than the cockney sparrow
yet silent as the owl approaching his prey,
I sprinted to the gate
and found an escape
and to their camp I came.
The night was cold and tedious to my feet,
but I vowed to stay the course.
I truly had no plan but a firm resolve
to bring salvation to my people, the land of my birth.
I could not explain then nor now at all,
how my bravery came to be.
All I know is that as I went along the side of the mount,
Odin's strength came rushing,
Athena's wisdom came pouring,
as if I were a mortal son of the gods I greatly despised.
"Thynus must die", I said to myself.
For all of a sudden, I knew what to do.
He is the fret of my people,
the pause to their bravery,
the end of their wit,
the crippling of their arms.
~ To be continued
Written: June 09, 2024 For Ink Empress Contest
“a mute tongue is a slave to silence” - Silent One
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let his eyes, his hug, and his grasp
convey what his mouth fears to say
His mother keeps an eye on her kid
In his first winter, he caught a lot of sun —
and watched the dust and air
Getting to the crib by horseback
Silence —
Through the susurrus sound stream
coruscating crimson spills subdue
whilst words whipped wassail
deep within a stymie pirouette
speaking in scarce slave silence
twisting mental sinews —
wrestle within a tight wooden link
In the recesses of a soft tongue
There is silence and no vitality
spewed utterances induce shame
letting souls bleed silently
Then, fear and doubt percolate.
Silence —
Endless streams of ingots land down
umpteen, rejuvenating, and dewy
signs of trust, optimism, and passion
Innuendo arty souls, albeit poetic syntax
hamstringing people with an arrow —
words convey verisimilitude vacuum
life thrives inside the one with insight
his devotion expands spreading apace
peaceful and fulfilling, ethical goals
erase worries, tears, and years.
Silence —
Lost in a celestial room, in a dream
flicker of fleeting rage
frightening fetching to fall in fetters
unexpected cacophony of sounds.
a wail escaped —
at the beckoning of serenity,
words gushed out forcefully
as if through a sluice
a stunning orchestral serve
was launched —
wonderful whirlpool
of seraphic wispy whims.
Silence —
He broke beyond obmutescence bounds
effortlessly eradicating despondency
and invigorating the once-quiet abyss
silence akin to a servant's shroud
have the courage to voice our opinions
exude confidence and vim
disrupt the enchantment
soak up the language —
let your tongue reflect and respond.
an inner whirlwind.
Silence —
Quiddity of nature resides within
the wreath of gloomy academia
such my final words, pulchritude
words with plumose wings
branch stretching —
whittle vine from the brittle barks
alpine brightness, as speckled embers
as pogonip laden its lair
moments before the kiss perches
snow covered it under Winter —
and forgetfulness blurs my dreams.
Silence —
He soothes my mind
Like a gentle rain falling
Kissing naked skin
With nurturing from Him
The Creator of time
The Giver of insight
The Power of winds and tide
Praise pours from me, sprinkling
In small verses of joy
Inspirations of adoration
For the One who knows
My heart, my soul, my dreams
The way I feel and the way I breathe
A prayer of faith to Him, my Savior
Whenever I chase grace – roaming
The scriptures with a need for His
Gift of wisdom, truth, brilliance
Psalms cling to my thoughts
Whispering miracles and hope
Coloring me in hues of stardust
Warmth, lavender lights so soft
They reflect only the fresh songs
Of oceanic applause rejoicing
Singing comfort through my reveries
In a chorus of beautiful, clean scents
A delicate love woven through humility
Chastening rumors and hearsay
Refusing the darkness of a tongue
Sated by lies and deceptions, slanders
Sliding down the throats of swindlers
Who never take the truth to heart
Where it will bring salvation to a soul
Longing for God’s gifts of the spirit
So dazzling they radiate across lives
Shining like moon and stars on the night
There is the black hole of evil’s darkness
And there is the light of good’s enchantment
Only the Savior of heaven and earth can tell
Where to escape the fires of pain and dread
Come to the quiet redemption of the one
Who knows that God is still on the throne
And He is still controlling it all, even the dark
Deep inside, where heart and soul collide
There is a sense of assurance and hope
Promises to the one who sincerely believes
The word of God, the sacred writings
Welcoming needs – wants and aspirations
Confidence in the truth that will reveal
Answers from God to those who simply read
The directions found in this book of faith
A bible filled with an amazing, living grace
He silences all of my fears
With light that fills shadows
Dreams in vibrant shades of pleasure
Glorifies the One who died for my soul
And taught me that love is an open door
For anyone who will come hungry
And give Him the chance to fill them
With a peace that is alive and revives
Even the dead hopes that tremble
On the edge of a dewdrop so tender
With God, being vulnerable
Doesn’t mean you’re weak
With God, being vulnerable
Means that you can finally see!
~ (~) "Yes to tell the truth whatever I deemed alone so-far-myself in my-lifetime to be-of-
eminent-promise, quiet virtue — is but only a tale I fetched up to be my merry placate... yes
gathered up from the ominous hollo of the wandering winds, told in the futility of my mind
infinitely far-and-a-ways beyond the timelessness of their prudence, love... enchantment
continuing grace; that which I would delight myself in the-hands-of today — and for-the-
remainder of them... if were they to come to pass... ." (~) ~
~ (~) "For-them I would-not-barter a thing... but-offer-all-of-me again... and whatever
pleasures brought-bought-and-sought after-from-then-on yes I pray it would assume a true
peace, for everyone — instead-of-the-clutter wrought-mostly-of-my-own-confusion, and the
certain-hell-it-has brought-me, and another, as a result — but still... given this fact I feel
scars still-grow-old eventually growing over, given-the blessing of-time... life — the struggles
toward an honest enlightenment through faith in Christ all leading to victory I believe today
no-matter — the periodic lack-thereof... ." (~ ) ~
~ (~) "So I consider the experience of this hope as-the-promise-awaiting all-who would-will-
moreover-to fight-to-breathe, God's mercy the breath of life being their release, forgiveness,
their-humble-reprieve... ." (~) ~
~ (~) "Because captivating I think-yes, the-passion-of-a-promise left unfinished — alive... like
the-fury-and-fortitude-of-a-raging-wind, and so it is felt and upheld forever-kept-open —
such-it-is-I-feel-to-own-a-love, unending." (~) ~
~ (~) Be-it-to-death-or-the-journey-beyond, though prompt as time-presses-on so this hope
will always remain. (~) ~
~ (~) "Abounding-of-all good things-peace-forever-carrying its sweet refrain...
and with eternities light shown down... you know I shudder-to think-not...
because where-have I gone-that the-ground has-not risen-up to-greet-me... and-peace-
wasn't-found-eventually...
and at this moment where is it exactly I don't feel safe... through these things I know truth is
always resurrected...
and yes through these propositions I'm sure... so very much more can be deliberated!" (~) ~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koJlIGDImiU
We had a garden gnome named Griselda
the bane of our small bungalow
she was nasty and mean, at times quite obscene
the worst that you ever could know!
Her garden mate, Gregor, had feared her
but one day he mustered the nerve
with all of our backing, to send the girl packing
with cleverness, cunning and verve.
But she was vindictive by nature
and wouldn't let 'bygones' be gone
if it took all her years, she would stir up our fears
her plans were all plotted and drawn.
She waited 'til we'd quite forgotten
her villainous, vile, evil reign
then with fierce aggression, she took bold possession
of our lovely, dear, docile domain.
She poisoned the pansies and lilies
and shredded the sweet climbing vines
she disturbed my repose, when she broke the windows
with a shriek that sent chills up my spine.
She tore down my front porch swing
shattering the flowerpots and planters
mad wreckage in her wake, as she sought all to break
taking off to the back at a canter.
I squared off to defend my back garden
grabbed whatever I thought I might wield
at first, on my guard, as I entered the yard
I found she was hardly concealed...
And 'though she seemed alone in the garden
I soon found that I was mistaken
for, succinctly put- I was bound head to foot
and carried off, unhurt but shaken.
Griselda had built quite an army
it seems, in her time far away
for gremlins and trolls, from the caves to the knolls
were under her terrible sway.
They answered her orders directly
and smugly, she smiled and she smirked
a gleam in her eyes as she planned my demise
as her minions continued to work...
Heaving in stones from the quarry
they were piling them higher and higher
and my strength gave away as to my dismay
I saw they were building a pyre!
But Gregor'd escaped all their notice
as he'd hid 'neath the back garden shed
and despite his wee size, he would prove her demise
at his bellow, her company fled.
He used a cheap trick, an enchantment
that he bought from an old witch named Rue
and it seemed there were thousands (as far as the eye scanned)
of Gregors that came into view!
Her face was distorted with terror
and she promised that she'd stay away
and off like a blip- she jumped on a ship
and sailed to somewhere near Bombay.
Mary Fletcher was prime minister in olde England, like fondest memory,
Of days when the twilight stood still, with silver moon, floating on sea.
Mary Fletcher was capable and caring, to the country's great benefit;
Like spring rains of green benevolence, trailing the fragrant evidence.
Andrew was Mary's loving husband. Their lives were so happy together!
Like allurng, violet future, that recalls moments in lush, green heather.
Scarlet summer was all in a fever, as faceted friends called, flustered;
Passing fields of fabled enchantment, where silky, lilac wind muttered.
Faces of family came in dreams, and in person, on the Fridays of fairs;
Full of food, games and fun activities, like colored, hopscotch squares.
Mary lived in the house of butterflies, forever peeking at the windows;
Offering the frequent flashes of color, like every shade of the primrose.
Saturdays wore its smiles, on Mary's street of pretty robins screeching;
Where blue dragonflies were dancing, and chirpy crickets had meetings.
Owls stared wide-eyed fascination, as neighbors came, one with night;
In the company of nostalgic, new moon, like velvet under the spotlight.
'Mangave mission to Mars' lifted off, when the 'corpse flowers' lay dying;
And 'grow anywhere' trees sprang hither and yon, without halfway trying.
During storms of 'dahlias electric flash,' or dark nights of 'showy lanterns,'
'Rose feather' blooms took the spotlight, while secrets hid in blue caverns.
As Andrew was crossing a bridge one sunny day, a large chunk of it fell,
Breaking the car's blue windshield! How he escaped harm, none can tell.
Andrew sent Mary an emergency message, apprising her of grave danger;
And she notified the right departments, within moments. Anxiety changer!
The bridge was capably repaired, due to the action of Andrew's first lady;
Like midnight of mimosa fragrance, giving raptures to areas grown shady!
'London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down,
London Bridge is falling down,
My fair lady.
Build It Up With Bricks of Shaw,
Bricks So Sure,
Bricks So Sure,
Build It Up With Bricks of Shaw,
My Fair Lady.
It Will Stand For Ever More,
Ever More,
Ever More,
It Will Stand For Ever More,
My Fair Lady.'