Long Erica Poems

Long Erica Poems. Below are the most popular long Erica by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Erica poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Tudor Court

Oh, aren't they grand 
Love comes dancing 
hand in hand 

Bowing to each other
Fluttering lashes all around 
From the yoke of sensual bondage 

You leave me wanting more 
Needing drops of grace to save me
The lust of my youth still cries out 

With a touch of his fingers to skin
He would rekindle her lust even higher
With a twinkle in his eye, he bows to her

A garden I have, which, has never been touched
Though, he is a proud gardener I can tell
Therefore, lord, protect me from my thoughts 

For the bloody butcher, has me at his will 
I beg of you, keep my thoughts from me        
Let him not take it from me, as the others before me 




5   15, 2012
Was watching "The Other Boleyn Girl" Natalie Portman, Scarlett Johansson, Erica Bana from 2008.  Someone might try casting king Henry with red hair since he was a redhead.


Pretty Monica

The insatiable passion 
inside our blood, out of control,
flowed quicker than a waterfall...
made us profoundly intense;
that determination, not to waste moments,
was affirmed by our earnest intention!

Where will I find pretty Monica?
She can't be replaced by witty Erica,
who forces me to forget...
until there'll be no memory left!

This sky was so crimson and cloudless,
a reminder of those evenings of tenderness;
now this boring rain pours down on that maple tree:
erasing everything we wrote on its bark;
and it even glowed like a star throughout the dark,
inviting us to spend a night...drifting in a dream!  

Where will I find pretty Monica?
Even the beautiful face of Angelica
doesn't offer me hope and consolation; 
she truly was the perfect woman in all creation!

I speak of a name so unheard by others,   
and foolishly fall into the stranger's arms...
those cold arms that can't make me feel comfortable;
I cry out  words that seem impossible
to be said in silence with certainty,
because nobody wants to hear them...except me!
Form: Ballad

A Spontaneous Gesture

Kids are clearly seen through their sheer innocence,
and giving a kiss is a spontaneous gesture
they return without any expectations and there's no malice
in that, or need for engaging in adventure.



How do they learn to express friendship on a given day?
They see how we show it through warm kisses
and perform them among themselves in an innocuous way;
oh, hear their loud laughter displaying cute faces!



My first kiss felt like the balmy spring wind caressing a fragrant rose,
and the longer I delayed it, the more I seem to enjoy it....
while Erica, the red-haired girl, was too shy but consented it; 
and I, a starry-eyed Romeo, amused my Juliet with the longest prose. 



Innocent times were part of a gentler era
when giving kisses and embracing was a manifestation of affection
somehow truer than the ones that are given today to escape tension;
let me recollect the one I gave to pretty Erica!
Form: Rhyme

Greeting Angels

Greeting Angels

Caylee, are you listening? 
I just wanted you to know
that we prayed that you’d get justice 
but I guess it won’t be so.
And I wondered if you met Tesslynn 
when you reached that heavenly shore
and was little Lattie waiting? 
Lord there are so many more.
Noah, John, Luke and Paul
and little sister Mary Yates,
Adam, Amy, Nixmary and Amber; 
only God could know their fates.
JonBenet’ and Riley Ann, 
way too soon these children died.
Polly, Kelsey and Jessica; 
oh Lord the tears I’ve cried.
Samantha, Austin and Justin, 
Terrance, Erica and Lily too,
Liam, Cyrus and Javan, 
Michael and Alex to name a few.
Caylee were they waiting
with the angels by their side?
And did Jesus hold you close 
when you realized that you had died?
So many innocent children 
abused and beaten and all alone.
Lord why didn’t anyone stop them, 
hadn’t anybody known?
Lord help us to help the children, 
help us to hear their cries,
before one more child is tortured, 
before one more angel dies…
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Asleep next to me

" My mother wanted me to be her wings, to fly as she was unable to. I love the fact that she wanted to give birth to her own wings. " -Erica Jong

Oh, your countenance in dawns graceful light
offers the imagination a lofty throne
an angel? goddess? not meant for human sight
yet, you are here beside me, alone
like rich, translucent cream with a ripe, fuzzy peach
Your face enticing my hands to reach 
to gently brush shiny locks of hair away
putting every aspect of your beauty and grace on display
How long will I be allowed to behold my daughter this way?
Form: Ode


She Quenched our Battle

It has been a long wait,
Longer but reached 
The battle that enemy started 
Was nailed perpendicularly 
With our lovely Princess!

Long, long ago!
A dream was conventional 
To quench the burning stick
Nicknamed national quizzes 
But resources and timing
Kicked away our fantasy 
Though struggled enough
But never fought abundantly

Here came the princess
Erisinta her name 
And said Dad don’t worry!
Leave the battle on me 
No army is needed
I can conquer all alone  
And sent the enemy far
Quash him to death 
And that is what she did
A Princess of the Royal Ng’abokwa 

A single-digit score,
With lower points than all,
Leveled Chibe and Chinga
Our SPS vanity 
This is the real fight,
That my soul dreamed of, 

Come and celebrate,
It is our culture to party,
Start mbeta all the way
The best of our tribe dances
Bigha Chimono bigha!
For if you stop dancing
Stones and sand shall!
Glorify our God,
For he has side our fight 

Don’t forget the rituals   
That bound us with grace
Praise the Almighty! 
For His mercy and blessings 
Have showered our canopy  

Dedication to my Daughter Erica. 27-01-2025
Form: Rhyme

In That Late August Morning

In that late August morning
millions of eyes were crying
for the death of their king...
they longed for his voice that was beyond thrilling!
Elvis' life suddenly ended in an unexpected tragedy;
nobody can say it was folly! 

A mourning widow held the small hand
of a daughter who didn't understand the grief;
her dad instilled in her the strong belief
that when a loved one dies, it's not goodbye:
if he had an impact on that life!
She heeded the message and followed
in his footsteps giving all she had:
wasn't Elvis proud, wasn't Elvis glad?

In that late August morning
two angelic wings carried Elvis' spirit to Heaven;
his lonely tombstone is adorned with weeping roses,
but no storm can shake his bones;
only memory echoes this joyful feeling,
" Elvis was a king with a humble crown!"

Which celebrity was mourned more than Elvis? 
Sorrow grew deeper in all corners of America,
nobody shed more tears than Erica;
Lisa Marie and Priscilla held hands,
they had lost someone who was loved...
despite his mistakes and that's awfully sad!
Form: Rhyme

Beyond the Rose-Covered Gate

I'm sensing something familiar as a lost memory
coming back and revealing itself in realistic form;
glancing at the rose-covered gate without a worm,
it looks different, somewhat newer; its color was gray
and roses that now cling weren't there...it's so enchanting!
Looking closer, I perceive another feeling of elation slowly rising.



An old house with long florid windows stood there,
beautiful flowers waved on windowsills looking out to the daisy-draped lawn...
that was the only beauty it had, then Erica ran down
and met me and gave me the most gorgeous sunflower;
I couldn't resist the lovely smile in those eyes color sapphire...
she was burning like the dry desert sand and asked me to quench her fire!



I recognized the passionate gleam in her enamored look, yet fearful as a deer; 
she led me through the rose-covered gate with unbelievable rush, her fair hand
was much warmer than the blood in my bursting veins, we had to explode
in passion and emit moaning screams that only the serenading bluejays could hear.



There it laid: a bed made of lilacs and jasmines...strong was the aroma I breathed,
I pulled her down as someone too desperate to devour and satisfy with eager eyes;
and too happy to lose myself in that ecstasy, I became the wild man she needed...
chimerical as dreamers, we clung to each other and sighed in our splendid Paradise.
Form: Rhyme

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