Long Enters Poems
Long Enters Poems. Below are the most popular long Enters by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enters poems by poem length and keyword.
It is a beautiful sunset
The dusk of night slowly enters
This chilly winter night
It’s not about seeing
The moon rise splendid in the sky
Like a light of love high above
Shining warmth to the shivering bare branches
Upon the first flakes of snow
Tumbling to ground
Inhaling the fragrance of fresh air all around
Like a delicate scent lingering
Her perfume captivates my desires
Lingerie on the corner bedpost
It’s not about seeing, or desire
It’s about my heart longing
For her eternal flame
The cold winters nights
Hide not the warmth
Firewood glows, illuminating our night
Her playful kisses
Upon my cold open lips
Make this a moonlight delight
As I delve into her hips
Notes: I call this a Mirror poem based on the one done by Charmaine Chircop, and thus the inspiration for this poem! Her poem is called " FACING THE SUN "
Counting birds at dawn
before the sickness arrives
numbers toll victims—
a ledger of feathers, wings
a census to count the loss.
After the virus
moves unseen through stricken flocks
silencing shorelines—
we count again what survived
absence, entered row by row.
Still some birds remain
carrying something unlearned
an old resistance—
their blood remembers a way
through their freak immunity.
So we count once more
not merely bodies and graves
but the remnant wings—
that become the vital seeds
for new flocks waiting to come.
What is a virus?
unable to live alone
it enters host's cells
steals their means to replicate—
using host's machinery.
A speck without life,
inanimate chemistry,
what right to exist?
no purpose, point, or reason—
a plague within the living.
Is a virus life?
no breath, hunger, cell, or pulse,
inert when alone
yet it mutates and evolves—
where does living, truly start?
I count the living,
knowing most are on death row,
I will count remnants,
I will watch the numbers grow,
mourning such senseless dying.
I count the living,
knowing most are on death row,
I will count remnants,
I will watch the numbers grow,
rueing utter senselessness.
She is the reigning queen of poetry soup
Producing a plethora of poems at will as from a mill
Children or adults, she fits into every group
A woman of childlike innocence and goodwill
Though her poems cannot be ranked first rate
They flow smoothly with ease, and never need edit
Hardly enters a contest but has written everyday till date
And she has thousands of poems to her credit
Her world is populated with fairies and elves
Thus endearing herself to all children
For whom she works and they closely follow her heels
With a fiery passion for poetry, she is driven
This poetess from the United States
Resides in a world of fairy tales and fable
With flair, umpteen poems she creates
And joyously wears a poet’s illustrious label
Her poems are peppered with a pinch of humour
She is warm and genial, seemingly untouched by strife
Driven by distance, all I can do is to pray for her bright future
And wish her many more years of creative life
(Wrote for Paean on Poets Poetry Contest
without knowing that its form should be limerick)
The table's bounty is piled high
Family's poised to dig in and try
Mama's turkey, special stuffing
And sweet potato pumpkin pie
When a knock at the door freezes us all
Who can it be who's come to call
The wind is howling; let him in fast
There's room for one more at our repast
He enters shivering and shaking
His bony frame twitching and quaking
He opens his mouth as if to speak
Then collapses to the floor in a heap...
The ambulance summoned, we wait aghast
Silent and anxious, when at last
The ambulance arrives, but it's well past too late
The poor fellow's soul has fled to its fate
The Thanksgiving meal sits now uneaten
As our tears reflect the depth of man's plight
These sad tidings fortune cannot sweeten
~ Death has extinguished a light
The wind crept up - the skies ever so dark
Black, slick, clouds and calamity enters thy soul
Dreary! It chatters and limbs they fly
No sun upon thy face - beaming with hue
Those clouds they swarm in darkness
Rain - it pours - flooding the earth
Bewildered I look up at this blustering sky
The trees are dead, It's spring - yes death
Roses in the ground with the trickling raindrops
The April showers - You haven't a clue
True grit! The soil now nurtured
The roots - feeding on this phenomena
And yet when the sun shines soon
Day after day - trees will come to life
And roses in bloom- life after winter death
In awe I see this beautiful imagery
In my brain, as I see the pouring rain
My mind - I visualize - the beauty
Thus, why does it expose calamity?
Beauteous be the wonder in my eyes
And how I love those dark dreary skies
A rosebud in my teeth - I see
Is extraordinary and so is the tree
Let there be rain as it nurtures the soil
And with the chatter of the wind, let there be turmoil
Again in my brain, I can truly love this day
I see life in the rain that is pouring today.
The pampas grasses' tassels start to show
Creamy white against green
Behind the Crepe Myrtle's color
Banked like a sunrise preened
Gray clouds tinged with luminous light
From clear to magenta
A somber morn parenthesized
By stillness; fear enters
Silvery blanket drapes the woods
A foggy damp surrounds
Crickets sing a chipper melody
'Pon the damp, cool ground
Roosters' crows fall flat in the vale
Weighted by the moist air
Birds begin to awake and sing
Songs of love ending fair_
What will this day's purpose reveal?
Good, evil or neutral?
Only God knows ahead the events
Even the unusual
Whispers of an enchanted deer wafted through the oaks and the lilies
The exquisite forest came alive with new fantastical creatures
Roses are always doubters, so they disagreed with their thorns
But most of the flowers were open to the rumor, eager to see the deer
A gentle breeze preceded the deer into the thicket of florals
The deer was lovely, with scrolls, and beautiful nearly pastel colors
I love her, the daisies said/
A testament to the truth; daisies love everything.
The deer looked around approvingly, she enjoyed new places.
This forest was exquisitely beautiful; she could be happy here.
A brown stag with fourteen points looked her over pronouncing her queen.
She shyly told him she expected to earn her place like the other creatures.
The weeds were thrilled; a deer with integrity; this was a welcome relief.
How brittle can the ruin of this heart slay
Like furrowed weeds burned into cinder ,
When church's flowers turn ebon and droop
As winds do not return... nothing moves
Not even air- chimes in their hazy curves:
*
I watch my own body... it becomes a stranger Melting like an anonymous outline
That enters the dark through crushed wails...
He is nowhere , not even a shadow flapping
While a eulogy of abandonment goes unsung, *
*
My fingers quiver in front of an altar…
pain grating the most benevolent
of prayers , chafed by slices of eve
that have no syllables for me…
For on this day, a deserted betrothal
leaves me hanging , hanging on a choir's loft.
And night breezes wash over me vanishing,
That I gaze at my bridal bouquet slowly astir...
A shattered vow, a runaway groom
Cry I must, in solo of dreaded season,
Waiting for hushabye to put me to sleep.
Does your lover woo you
like a puffer fish woos
his perfect mate?
If not … well
there are plenty more
fish in the sea!
Note: How it works
Male pufferfish build sand sculptures to attract mates.
The female pufferfish decides if the male's sculpture is good enough.
The male pufferfish uses shells to decorate the ridges of the sculpture.
The ridges stabilize the sculpture and slow water that might disturb the center where the female will lay her eggs.
The female pufferfish enters the nest and joins the male cheek to cheek.
The female lays her eggs and the male fertilizes them.
~Nature on PBS
Angels and Demons
There are things we do not understand.
Dark things beyond the realm of man.
On a dark night, whatever be the case;
There is an evil you don't want to face.
There is a light wherein all hope resides.
Yet there is a darkness where light is denied.
Pure celestial light can know no sin.
But in the darkness of the heart sin enters in.
How spirits war we do not understand.
But they battle for the souls of fallen man.
We cannot always see where demons run.
But it's easy to deduce the things they've done.
They come disguised pretending they're your friend;
And we open up the door and let them in.
Believe or not believe, but it is true;
And today it's what I testify to you.
To meet an angel would be like a dream to me.
But demons are much easier to see.