Long Faring Poems
Long Faring Poems. Below are the most popular long Faring by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Faring poems by poem length and keyword.
Annette Arnold had recently left college
And was thrust into flimsy dating realms;
She grabbed pen and paper to describe
Top-choice dude of her fanciest dreams.
Dashingly handsome and of complexion nice,
And gallant gait akin to quaint legends' knight;
Sainted for inventive hare's monstrous brains,
Whose vast wit tales eternalize in folios white.
Certainly wielding humongous fiscal sway
At glance to dwarf mythology’s Midas' turn;
Brandishing glitzy wads as any moguls may,
Ever copiously donating all yet lacking none.
Life tenant within fame's flashiest abodes
Where prince and duke sure habitat have,
And king and princess choicest liquids sip;
Where queen and gods fine victuals serve.
Never must such his hallowed mistress
With betrayal's faithless mischiefs afflict,
Defiling indelible vows in his loyal troths,
He’ll steadily love whatever woes persist.
And so first to hit her with resistless lines
Was one William Watts imbiber of wines;
Neither that dashing handsome nor wise;
Faring far from afore-hinted pigment nice.
After wee-witted Williams’ charming vibes
Popped Ronald Riveter from politest tribes,
Known for most arresting manly physique;
Sorry stranger to Midas’ coin-clinking trick.
When Bernard Belmont's pics were seen
He looked plain and of disposition mean;
Unacquainted with idolized royalty’s fame,
Unadorned with duke's resplendent name.
And last Jason Jay did his mistresses vex
If records past might reveal lovers' specks;
His faint affections as whims rose and fell;
Sundering divinest troths as irate exes tell.
Searing decades of pen-and-paper wait
Nabbed no Knight of heaven-hewn trait;
And so did choice-wiser Annette Arnold
Award meek Martin Monks her aisle nod.
Water runs and waves and dances,
Never still. Always advances.
It entertains everybody,
Is calming, soothing, moving - free!
Water, like all life, has purpose
On and above the Earth's surface,
Aiding our Earth's ecology,
Is calming, soothing, moving - free!
It proves sea-faring workers brave.
Water massages when we bathe,
Makes us feel light, gives buoyancy,
Is calming, soothing, moving - free!
The sound of water brings pleasure,
Amazes when used for leisure.
Respect it and good it will be,
Is calming, soothing, moving - free!
Written 6th September 2022
For the "A Kyrielle About Water" contest.
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
A sea-faring vessel on Galilean
Sea, fully dutied, dawn's a storm.
The ship's crew saw Christ walk
on water -- disciples inclusive.
Peter bid to partake, Christ said,
"Come." He beheld watery life
'neath the becalm Sea Glass, and
his whole being walks over it, raises
his inner glory to Christ's glory
divine, voice of assurance.
The storm woke Peter and fear
joined the climb. The Sea Glass robs
Peter's leap of faith to a sunken fate.
" ... little faith ... room for doubt."
The storm ends, and Peter is safe
onboard.
A vessel stern bids farewell, and its
crew praising the Son of God, as a
parting wanes a shimmering glass
sea mid a new calm proverbial day.
For nigh on a hundred-fifty years it has graced the rugged shore of Maine!
Its welcoming beacon guiding sea-faring souls who sail the mighty main!
It has weathered untold fearsome storms of gale, snow, sleet and rain;
A faithful, stalwart sentry defying such nuisances, guarding its vast domain!
Old Captain Blair, its keeper, knows all too well the perils of the sea,
For he captained majestic sailing ships for many decades, you see.
He wearily climbs the circular stair to light the candles at close of day,
And with practiced eye, scans the roiling sea to ascertain that all is okay.
Alas, one dark and stormy night the US Frigate Arcturus met her fate!
A blinding fog and raging seas doomed the Arcturus on that fateful date!
The beam of the lighthouse could not be seen! There was naught to do!
The ship was dashed upon unforgiving shoals drowning her valiant crew!
The old lighthouse still guards that stretch of sea to this very day.
Modern lamps now cast their beam while Captain Blair sleeps 'neath the clay!
Alieu A. Bah Ask:
How art thou faring bard?
FEMALE BARD: Love art faring well in my heart.
IT WAS you, the master of wit and charm;
With masterful words you have stirred my heart to become
Unburdened, by the keeping OF it!
I can now release the beauty of the love once hidden there, UNLEASHING POEMS FROM MY SOUL IS ONLY BROUGHT FORTH BY ONE WHO'S EARS ARE DIRECTED TO RECEIVE THEM.AND YOU MY YOUTHFUL AND MOST NOBLE BARD HAVE BRING LIGHT INTO MY DARK CORNERS.ASHE'
MALE BARD: Truth have been issued for your blessed heart. Unleashing with such might that I fall prostrate at that power of love. The bard shall thru' eternity sing thy praises of love.
FEMALE BARD: The bard be too jolly if he only sings of love. LOVE lands on tender ears...and my warrior will be weakened. Deceptions of love can blind one’s eyes my Admirer be my Admiral, my warrior king, must be equipped with the sword of two edges.
One to protect me and one to cut deep into my core. Bow my noble bard to no man nor woman, but with a slightly tilted head and a watchful eye. Protect your heart from folly. Really you cannot afford a weakened state not even for me. My lover must be not only a jolly Bard but … My vigilante.
MALE BARD: Aye! Hearken O seeker of the Ideal love of man. Hearts have been pierced into for in the most ancient of sapiens did testify to this... Be warn not to undermine that power which is but God unto us... love shall make thee of the insane. man, truly can transcend that might.
Female bard Oladeji: Love transcends all boundaries/ and true love is just what happens as we communicate/ i will share my heart with you. until we are strangers no more. i will hold this poem close to my bosom and adore you my noble youthful bard.
FOOTNOTE:written around 2013
IMPROMPTU WE JUST MET!
Alieu A. Bah from the Gambia.
West Africa 21 yrs. [at the time]
old / and mamma Oladeji 64 years old [at the time]
AKA VICKI ACQUAH
POETRY AND LOVE / KNOWS NO BOUNDARIES
The jester cries his tears in vain
the joy lies with the mad man
eternal bliss from darkness blame
the moment finite endless same
Impermanent like summer tan
as ancient San in Bushveld’s plane
a lapse of time in patient gust
with choice of haste or depth or must
surrender freedom kindness trust
And faithful love
from inside out goodness above
accepting planet’s rhyme and reason
anything else feels higher treason
To the laughter’s seasoned scent
with roads diverging crossing bent
Forking regressions roundabouts
shine simple wisdom strong and stout
As blackened tunnel’s epitaph
do jester madman share the laugh
The wise men women circle squaring
out of their boxes brave and daring
sparkling life flaming fan-faring
The rhapsody of conscious mind
in-sanity tears kindling kind
15th July 2016
Dear Self,
I have taken a moment to write,
Since time is walking briskly.
How are you faring?
Do you still get excited with the changing season and smell of rain?
Do you still sit out in the cool of the evening
having a picnic in candlelight with a glass of wine in hand?
Watch the day fade away, welcome the graying of the night?
Count the luminous stars looking for all the constellations,
And the changes of the moon from night to night
While the stars gaze back;
Make a wish upon a shooting star?
Do you walk through and adore the open fields to another city?
Do you still listen to Celtic music, country music,
Or watching cartoons with your great-grandchildren?
Have you hiked those overgrown mountain trails
Where the feather reed grass is up to your waist
And the seedling trees trying to reach for the sky?
Are you facing the fact that you have gotten older
Or are your fears struggling with life?
Are you thinking positive to each step you take forward
Or are you taking steps backwards and not forget the past?
Are you still exercising or have you gotten lazy?
Are you still holding up to the change of weather?
Are your children still rejoicing in their lives?
Are the grandchildren growing like weeds
And being blessed with being successful?
Have you made peace with whom you love
And achieved your destiny?
Have you found prosperity and success?
Are you enjoying retirement in a far-of-land or island;
Found a soul mate to keep you happy and safe?
Tell me, have you succeeded in completing everything on your bucket list?
I hope your life is going on better than it was?
Whatever you have done, I hope you found good in it.
9/21/2021
Letter To Your Future Self Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Well when the need for more space
was mentioned, one fella spoke
and said our wives have chored and labored
and have seemed to be more
obedeaint, maybe we could build
a space were they can cook together
and make clothes together
leaving the chores to be sorted
out amongest them.
all agreed and built these places
they wanted this year
to end
with a place to celebrate together.
when winter came
the new places were
opened to
the women to sort and conspire.
night after night brawls between woman
came up across the little town.
a group of college aged men from
all walks of life desided
to not marry and they choose
secretly meet
and make pregant 37 women
who were aligned to women
they were to meet
by a creek and become pregant
29 became pregant and some of these women
were aligned to male freinds who were accussed and assumed to
be fathers.
well one day
rumors began ccircling.
some said the town clergy men had
been in consortment with goldminers who
smuggled gold from
mines far away.
and sea faring men who smuck into towns and sold
goods from ships and merchants.
It was beleived the Clergymen knew
the happens and keep
the secrets of these five year of Trulige in a box
he buried in the floor of his home.
It was said he drew a map in his bible.
and the ledger and lute was
buried 3 feet from the east window. Depth of four feet.
It was enclothed in a box
made of the roots
of a apple tree.
Standing at the tavern door,eyes dark and brooding
Neath his floppy hat, stared into the crowded room,
A Raven flew from his shoulder settling in rafters high,
He smiled a sardonic smile and ordered a mug of ale.
All turned to look at this dark eyed traveller tall,
His leather boots dusty ,cloak trimmed with mud,
And from his belt around his coat hung a dirk long
No one thought to say a word they tried to look small.
Around the smoke filled room his gaze did wander
Settled on a crowd of rowdy sea going lads noisly
Drinking ale and rum and telling bawdy tales,
Just back from foreign voyage across the seven seas.
Within their midst a vision sat with a smirk on ruby lips
Long hair framed her face like waves of swelling sea,
Like kelpie mane, ran that hair ,her eyes like deep sea green,
And at once his dark eyes shone beneath that floppy hat.
The night wore on, the air grew warm, the raven fluffed his wings
From somewhere a shot rang out lodging in rafters deep,
Laughter raucous and shrill cut across the misty room,
Silence fell heavy among the gathered crowd.
He slowly turned his head in the direction of the rowdy lads
Dark eyes flashed as stepped towards where they sat,
As one they rose and laughed in his face,swords drawn,
In his hand a wooden staff and they laughed no more.
Faces stunned into disbelief at what they had seen,
Around his feet six men lay still blood seeping from their wounds,
He turned on his heel and slowly went through the door,
The Raven cawed, spread his wings as he flew out the door.
Standing by his horse the sea going beauty waited patiently,
She smiled as he approached with a swagger and dark eyes flash
He tipped his floppy hat and beckoned with outstretched hand,
She went to him in full embrace held him like a band.
They travelled the land, the sea faring beauty and the dark eyed man,
Their tale told throughout the fair sun kissed land,
From village to village and taverns where seafaring folk met,
The legend grew of the Dark Eyed traveller and his mermaid bride.
Andrew Provan McIntyre © 2015.
When I was young, I'd a desire,
To fly beyond this earth, higher;
Where the sun never gets retire,
Blazing with his scorching fire;
It's paradise, indeed...!
It is where moon, at night, does shine,
Galaxy, to stars, chores assign;
Sky and clouds routine treaties sign,
Within their frontiers, to confine;
Each to other does heed...
For sometimes, I did keep hidden,
My desire, as though forbidden;
Mundane worries like waste-midden,
Covered me as though goal-ridden;
Stillness around does breed...
To my parents, friends, kith and kin,
As though, their objective, did win;
My vocation seemed to fill-in,
Professions, where I'd be kingpin;
My heart, in fear, did bleed...
I did oblige to their demands,
All, in elation, shook my hands;
Money though multiply like sands,
Could give happiness of all lands...?
I could never feel, freed...
It's, then I thought to dream again,
The dream of childhood, to regain;
Wild feeling of being in lane,
Of airy hosts, freed of all pain;
This should be my new creed...
I turn an astronaut, daring,
Loving the art of space-faring;
Daring to bear all ill-flaring,
Remain serene and forbearing;
Lo, herewith, I succeed...
22 April 2022
Tall Tales 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jeff Kyser