Long Etchings Poems
Long Etchings Poems. Below are the most popular long Etchings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Etchings poems by poem length and keyword.
October's moon sets glass aglow
as Jack Frost's etchings start to show.
Not ready to pass the baton;
Autumn's hesitant to move on.
And Scarecrows swaying in the breeze;
let crows come and go as they please.
In farmers' fields, no seeds will grow
as Nature starts to take things slow.
Colors seem scribbled in crayon;
hastily: as if freely drawn.
And Fall canopies play striptease:
as temperatures drop degrees.
December shares November's snow;
when Winter winds begin to blow.
Alas, the songbirds are long gone:
while nights get cold, 'twixt dusk and dawn.
And everything soon starts to freeze;
awaiting Spring to green the trees.
If my heart could be unveiled
In etchings on a canvas sky,
I would have to barter with the gods
for inks richly dyed,
ground saffron and vermilion, citrine and verdigris
could scarcely start to paint nuances of an exotic gypsy soul.
Could they read warm tones or cold,
looking in the heart's clear glass,
and formulate fresh colors to reveal emotion's tides;
create a new prism to divide the beaming spirit-spectrum light
and pierce the secret depths of me?
God gifts of light and power,
must formulate new tools to awaken mysteries,
break down barriers of mind,
disclosing a story line speaking only heart to heart
unwinding from a tantalizing spool.
Copyright, November 12, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
From somewhere far beneath,
My father's face is rising to replace my own.
Each year the brightly silvered surface of my mirror
Reveals some other common feature
Pushing its way to the fore.
The silver of the years finds its way
Into the hair retreating at the same rate;
Years marching forward as the hairline marches back
In lockstep time. What's left shines
With the wintry distinction of age.
Whose eyes are these that now look out
From beneath my brow? Are these the eyes that watched my child in sleep,
Or now those elder eyes that watched over me so long ago?
What self is that at rest behind my silvered temples,
That rests its thoughts so heavy on these things?
Photos of the two of us together
Show the kinship of expression
The matching etchings of experience
That leave no doubt
As to the common blood by which we're bound.
I can no longer view myself
Without his presence being there as well;
Moreover, the image of his father
Shows the like upwellings in him.
The visage of the man who came before
The three of us I've never seen;
But I deem it probable there was little difference,
So back this face we share may go, ad infinitum.
Every face is a story
Of the life and its ways that shaped it.
This being so, I cannot help but feel ennobled
By the lines and lessons which have been passed to me.
This is the face I shall carry
From now to the end of my days.
My I tend it, and wear it, well.
Look at the stars, look at how they shine for you and everything you do
- Coldplay - Yellow
ASTRAL DISPOSITION
The twizzle etchings in the Winter sky, electrifying,
those sparkling spectators of spectacular spin —
the height, the depth, velocity is riveting
and it’s all for you, my Dear
Millions of miles away, rambunctious smiles, applause —
serenade of plucking wings, society of carefree things
and it’s all for you, my Dear
With sophist swag, quill and ink — destiny curves,
loquacious cursive of psaltery stars
and it’s all for you, my Dear
Integrity and grit — eternity’s candlelit, luminous flames
of red, orange and green, yellow, white and blue
and it’s all for you, my Dear
2/15/2020
Famous poetic lines 3 - Love songs Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
A rock salted field hard-by a thwacking sea,
a shore of time-crushed boulders
that form the twisted shadow-shapes
of long-forgotten histories,
margins where the scored etchings
of red raw faiths and wind carved countenances
are submerged signs only visible
through the long-eroded lens of doom.
Here were once groups and troops
that have died around their young bones
while laying exhausted in open camps.
At low-tide, among such eroded liniments,
a time-crushed human landscape is revealed.
We see the swift rise and fall of the long buried,
and recognize a towering significance: -
that it is we that will leave watermarks
for others to discover. A featureless ocean
will whittle new features upon our own
barbaric innocence.
Align the heart with soul that sums,
Ride the pure breeze with laughter's thrill;
Thrill with true art the hymns that come,
Indulge a squeeze of happy feel;
See flowers start to pose and hum;
Trust joy to feast on pleasant quill.
Cheer and zest fund your faerie art,
Ink and colours speak of delight;
Choice and fest with touching heart,
Etchings flavour such sparkling sights;
Love gestures best as words sum parts,
Yield soul's harbour in charming flight.
Move stillness sound with sunlit glow,
Air brings joy here as brush strokes tell;
Reap the fair grounds of brilliant show,
Yes plain word ploys can cast fond spells.
Blooms of blessings in simple stance,
Abide fine grace in humble cheer;
Rich hues singing of song and dance,
Keep poignant space as tints endear;
Etch sweet writings that frame fond trance.
Rich drawings trace such fairies clear.
Play on word rhymes to fit the scope,
Opt to reveal a knowing grand;
Explore fond times with faith and hope,
Trust love to heal most deep my friend.
Leon Enriquez
05 January 2016
Singapore
Summer’s seasoned lacings, all fetching,
uplift timid heartbeats with etchings.
Sunshine warmly touches me sky brushed.
Languid summer holds playtime sketching.
Touching water’s velvet soft richness,
sensuously tender in thickness,
captivates my deepest of senses.
Water must thrill summer as mistress.
Delight I hold when my garden shines
with produce sun thriving on green vines.
Sorrow stirs when garden grows dirt-dim
from Autumns push upon summer lines.
No coat, no sweater – summer bare feet –
dressing is a bit of style pieced sweet.
Summer freedom within her Eden
lifts my joy on high inside complete.
Horseshoes, croquet, hiking on park trails,
fishing, crabbing, grilling lobster tails -
all eases for adult stressed creases,
all pieces of summer’s bright details.
In summertime, I am a thrilled child
innocently day tripping beguiled
thru exciting treasures season swayed
until autumn shades persuade sun’s exile.
Signal sweet sights
Pain pressures plight
Asking appeals
Reach ripe reveal
Keep kindred kind
Leave lousy lines
Endings entwine
Succinct sound stakes
Prime print partakes
Apt aim attest
Rich robust rest
Kind keepsake knot
Linger late lot
Embrace embloc
See-saw splendour
Peace prize plunders
Axe agenda
Real rider rows
Kneeling knave knows
Learn lots lively
Endure envy
Sight settles sound
Prize pays profound
Align around
Right response rounds
Knave keeping knight
Latent love lights
Etchings excite
Sparkling signs speak
Pleasure proofs peak
Appoint ample
Roomy rustle
Knock kind knuckles
Leisure little
Expound evil
Sexy soothes signs
Progress plain prime
Aiming aligns
Rapture reaps rhymes
Kind keep kindles
Lines leap lovely
Echoes empty
Leon Enriquez
01 Apr 2014
Singapore
Summer nears its end
racing
through the weeks now passed
with little left to do
the garden
winding down and fading.
Autumn
peeks around the corner
colors teasing on the greens.
Nesting complete
fledglings all gone
nests and birdhouses empty.
The gathering begins
squirrels, groundhogs, chipmunks
beginning to store for winter cold.
Pleasant days await
cooler and colorful etchings
waiting their turn to shine.
Blooms fade
flowers turn to seed
preparations for next spring.
The cycle continues
with patterns of life
renewed and rejuvenated
lagging momentarily
in the holding pattern
to end summer’s stay.
Taken
In this graveyard I sit and inhale the smoke.
As I sit, I read names, dates and quotes.
He was this and she was that.
They didn’t escape death…that is all I know.
Roses among the moss, the raindrops begin to fall down;
I stare into the dying sunlight and see images through clouds.
Then I see another mourner, praying to God;
We are both dressed in black, but she is no Goth.
She is just lost and has lost someone she loved;
I will not disturb her in her time of grief,
But I will glance at the grave stone when she is gone
And I am heading home, past all the head stones.
What is this sadness that surrounds us all in this place?
They have all been taken away.
Etchings and numbers like nineteen forty seven;
Names no longer remembered now they have all risen to Heaven.
Families reunited, never truly divided;
Always nearby if needed, inside a guiding light.
I kissed a girl and I kind of liked it;
But now her kisses are bitter to the thought,
Now she has been taken from my life.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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