Long Entreating Poems
Long Entreating Poems. Below are the most popular long Entreating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Entreating poems by poem length and keyword.
Her lust for you is fierce.
She spreads it out before you
as if it were a lavish bridegroom’s dinner
of caviar, oysters and shrimp;
spears of warmed asparagus and
artichokes stripped of leaves to dip in luscious butter;
truffles too with fragrant muskiness;
all foods of succulence - inciting appetite.
Her tender lips are moist - champagne to further whet desire.
Entreating you to take your fill, she whispers in your ear,
“Partake of me, my love. Take more and more.”
As you imbibe her and consume her,
your feeding frenzy peaks
when she offers from her fingers- sweetest fruit:
honeyed figs with cream, peaches, plums, and kumquats;
and one red well-ripened berry.
Utterly sated,
drunk from delectation;
motionless, you lie upon your bed.
And when your eyes move rapidly
beneath their heavy lids,
she slides her body carefully off yours,
slips back into her gossamer gown,
hastens on tiptoes to the door; turn the knob;
and without looking back,
steps into the blackness of the night.
You'll waken and want to feast again
but find that she has parted.
(to banquets such as hers,
one rarely is invited more than once).
And so you'll live and love,
knowing that you can never resume -
a coupling so completely gratifying.
Your passion was consumed in
your consuming of this goddess
who takes from men again. . . and again
But the nourishment that she requires
must always be fresh,
and that is what
eternally
sustains her.
A Revised Oldie for the Heart of Seduction Poetry Contest of Justin Bordner
I sing from my window of wonder of the green and lush
The springtime genesis of flower and field
As trees openly wave with flowers bursting blush
Unveiling the hidden promise of sweet harvest's yield
The wistful weave and delightful drift of perfumed air
Teases my footpath to dance in elation
Tulips peek from mossy ground their blossoms declare
Friendly starts of fertile life bestowing jubilation
Drenched in paint the landscape joyously collides
With hues and tints of color born in glorious aura
A palette of imagination and conception resides
Within our eyes and hearts exquisite plethora
Vernal, eternal sunshine refreshed and sublime
An unspoiled promise is rising to gloriously express
Entreating this beauty born be blessed until the end of time
So as our spirit be enmeshed in the bloom of life's caress
May 8, 2020
Spring Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
He, beseeching –
I raised my pleading eyes
as I saw you pass by.
You looked through me.
I was invisible.
My eyes searched
for understanding.
You did not say “I’m sorry.”
You busied your nose in your phone.
My thirst apparent yet
you offered nothing.
You clutched your coffee tighter
although you saw my want.
Your bagel a life-send,
you passed by imploring hands.
You turned away
from my entreating pain.
I, reproving –
Too late…to comfort you.
Too late…to buy your lunch.
Too late…to bring you coffee.
Too late…to listen to your stories.
Too late…to offer consolation.
Too late…to extend compassion.
Too late…to save myself.
A secret smile lights up only for you
an unspoken promise of what’s to come;
Shivers, tingling down your spine
as breaths' soft kisses caress skin
Unsanctioned tremors, your body reacts
to yearnings reflecting in those eyes,
Tacit entreating invoke echo’s of pleasure
on waves of heat crashing into your mind
Your body responds, inching ever nearer
till you're in front of those reflecting pools
That smile ever wider, lit brighter and brighter
a salute to passions fervent twin
That touch electric, surging your body
taking you to new heights as you fill his embrace
Those pools of delight summon closer and closer
amity budding to intimate ardor
the dream of delight has been set into place
Lips tickle by touch as they join into one
a sense of urgency quickens the pace
intensity building on every touch
The journey to bliss has begun
sensual poetry contest - 04.02.2021
Heart renewed
Power be true
Father guiding my mouth
Keeping more shut
Help me to speak
Edifications
Keeping my heart
Beating Sweet things
Sweet things
Oh! That my soul eats of the sweet things
Sweet things, those righteous sweet things
Those sweet things
Sweet things
Sweet things
Sweet things
Keeps my heart
Beating, God My Father my sweet thing
In my heart, my heart
Entreating so that I may receive His attention
And all of those His blessings
Sweeter is He for He is my sweetest thing
Sweeter is He for He is my sweet thing
So that I may receive His attentive listening
Halleluiah
Heart renewed
Power be true
Father guiding my mouth
Keeping more shut
Help me to speak
Edifications
Keeping my heart
Beating Sweet things
Sweet things
Oh! That my soul eats of the sweet things
Sweet things, those righteous sweet things
Those sweet things
Sweet things
2/15/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Coarse, featureless shards stagnating
Fodder for a discerning hand's mending
Putty strands their potential value bleating
For a potter's touch; new life entreating
Gentle hands rough surface massaging
Rubbery texture patting and preening
Carefully each lump, fold kneading
Instinctively more clay into mixture feeding
Pressing the mass around the wheel now speeding
Softly caressing, while each corner buttressing
Holpen hands new shape, form deeding
A spherical chalice deftly molding
Each cascading side symetrically scaling
Delicate fingers each crenelation each groove formulating
Peeling off excessive fragments, proportions receding
Moisture from the master's hand now bleeding
Patiently, a primitive, tidy colander forging
With rythmic, patterned movements shearing
An artistically, woven pot from the wheel emerging
A magestic artifact the maestroes skill divulging
Loneliness is a total lockdown
Put in jail of no liberation
Everyday with mates do frown
When night comes signalling in moon's formation
With pure hearts illness, its hard to mutter good night
And in every opening of the eyes,
You wish comes outside very bright
Dissatisfaction murmured heavy sighs
Morning comes greeting
Laughter praises thy looks
School greets welcome entreating
Your minutes away with books
Break period best others
Fake fighting games place prank
Other times, you cease your druthers
And watch while mates yank
I love and miss those times
Of tease, pranks and jokes
The time fights are no crimes
After all, you are still together good folks
Happy children's day!
20 children dare play for twenty years?
Would you crusade to remote regions
in search of that timeless tomb, the one made of seasalt & sandstone,
to towns tempered by the terror of war, windswept with worry,
Do prayer calls of the Jihadist singe the comfort breathing in your books of traditions,
could the Koran summon an instinct of journey in the feet of your hopes,
perhaps the Bardo Thadol a simmering shout from the monastery of one's monsters
suppressed in cells of selfless sorrow, daring repressed in reminiscence of rectitude,
in the Old Testament do you find aged allergies or fertile figments of prophets' pennies,
saviors in the center of gravity cinching the flinching surfacing in proverbs proofing
along the borders of the desserts chilling in the kitchen of your cares,
Maybe in front of the Wailing Wall you'd find dust entreating you to become a martyr
for the charm of morning, on your knees amid the Caaba perhaps sand jinies will jest,
in the midst of the tree grip of Angkor Watt the tongue of first life might muse of miracles
sewn into the sackcloth of parents' aspirations, conceptions wrought from the wanted,
take it to the sky, take it to the soil, take it to the core, let saints keep score,
take it 'till there is no more -
J.A.B. %
November 1 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Luke 21-22
Key Verse – Luke 21:4 For all these have of their abundance cast in unto the offerings of God: but she of her penury hath cast in all the living that she had.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR COMMENDING
OUR BEST OFFERINGS TO HIM
Praise be to God for commending our best offerings to Him:
Diligently by our dedication by His design
Daily through our deeds according to His desires
Devotedly along our determination for His delight
Decisively midst our discretion through His direction
Definitely in our dependence to His discipleship demands
Luke 21:36 Praise be to the Lord for exhorting us
to watch and pray always:
Expressing our trust in His Word
Expecting for His truth by His wisdom
Executing His testimonies inside His will
Entreating for His touch with His wonders
Entering into His triumph against worldliness
Exposing our treasures, time, and talents for His worth
Enduring midst turmoil in witnessing; empowered to win
Endeavouring to toil in His work; encouraged to tread upon His walk
Exemplifying tenacity by His waking; endued against trials in His warmth
Exalting Him thankfully in worship; enlightened midst trials by His watching
Luke 22:32 Praise be to the Saviour
for praying for us as He:
Frees us from frustrations’ failures
Fixes us to focus toward His fitness-fort
Fulfills for us along His faithfulness’ flame
Fortifies our faith by His fuel’s furnished fire
Frames us up firmly against fainting and falls
Feeds us fully within His fellowship’s fruitfulness
Fences us around His freedom's fervency against fright. Amen!
November 1, 2024
Covered Dishes
1
The password is… password, shhh...
Try to remember if possible,
this sure-fire way of getting through the door;
Entering indeed, as with all lithesome ladies,
and their dithering dogs, after
entreating the big dude at the entrance gate,
with licorice sticks and cauliflower juice on ice,
and leaning over long enough to show off the planets,
those spinning orbs of a mathematical universe,
now turning madly and centrifugally, sucking
out the eyes of the pleading fools,
dressed in rage, and wont to feel the ancient eclipses,
those silent but grunting interludes unseen,
all dressed in satin boredom, all flummoxed
as with clowns, dressed in neon failure,
who now offer smiles and winking winces,
to the sad-eyed pedestrians, and
the red-lipped ladies with the wide-brimmed hats,
out to tease with nylon exposures,
around the bleakly lighted doorways
to dark entrances, without eyes to feel.
You were sitting there with legs crossed,
a cocktail dangling from your frozen fingertips,
like a fainted ballerina in the splitting moonlight.
In front of you, on the table, covered dishes
covered tureens, with surprise taste delights simmering,
shouting out in mute languages of the multitudes:
What is under the lid of this blue dish?
What is beneath the cover of this steaming tureen?
I turned to see other dishes and other culinary settings,
and instead, I saw you among the bon bons
and the flaming surrendering soufflé.
You wore that same translucent skirt with
the lightning stripes and the chiffon protestations,
and as you rose from your chair with howling legs,
there was no hell and brimstone in what I saw.
Then as with a silent hungry leopard,
setting exotic eyes on my stilled soul and quivering body,
you took my hand into yours, as easily as one might,
and with straight-staring certitude, we politely exited
from this quiet pedestrian grille,
this obscure café under the yawning stars,
hidden behind festooning flowers,
draped on hungry trellises,
for the hopelessly outraged.