Long Fawn Poems
Long Fawn Poems. Below are the most popular long Fawn by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fawn poems by poem length and keyword.
Drenched in the glow of sunburst crimson sky
verdant vale veers at foot of jade hills,
on gentle slope fawn leaves rustle with sigh,
wind carries to the deep stream down the rills,
sketching the leaping silver water line
on rocks carving the course of pristine art,
lucid in murmur on pebbles, some shine
bright, some drape with malachite moss their heart.
Walking long on contours of crystal stream,
of emerald plain’s scene I’ve not lost sight,
see, from lilac sky descends golden gleam
of twilight as I watch the fall of night.
I wait for dawn to see me in your eye
drenched in the glow of sunburst crimson sky.
May 15, 2019
Contest : Nature Scene-Orphan Sonnet
Syllable count : 10 each line
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
“You can never cross the ocean until you
have the courage to lose sight of the shore” –
Christopher Columbus
“For the success of climbing the mountain peak
you need to forget the haven of the ground unique.”
- My quote.
The notion of nebulous ambition drifts quietly away free,
floats on the formless wings of the psychic clouds wispy.
The luring mind's horizon disappears in the hollow sky fawn,
the sense of loss morphs into failure to reach the destination dawn.
If you aspire to sail bravely across the high sea,
where the winds carry the scent of the new land free,
you watch in the distance the familiar shoreline fade,
you’re tense to leave the home terrain that safety has made.
“You can never cross the ocean until you
have the courage to lose sight of the shore” as the last view.
On your uphill climb of the formidable mountain face,
the summit of success lies beyond slithery track of failure trace,
you can’t reach at the end of the effort if you’re scared stiff,
if you don’t rely on detachment with the of strength of self-belief.
The highest summits of success always demand
a heavy toll from the forlorn mind and from the toiling hand.
Pursuing the formidable goal alone, you give a high price
for the success that surely depends on your sacrifice.
It’s a timeless truth that all great achievements hold
the treasure of what is given up to reach within their fold.
“For the success of climbing the mountain peak
you need to forget the haven of the ground unique.”
The smoky dust screen blows away far,
beyond the halcyon horizon to nowhere.
The flotilla of cotton clouds sails
in the concave ocean of cobalt.
Bowed slender blades of cinnamon grass sway
in the crisp air on the lap of pasture turned fawn.
Lining up the sun-burnt cinnabar garden path,
I pave anew to engrave your footprints,
the trunks of tawny trees stand forlorn like me.
The setting sun ignites the inferno of spectrum
in the seamless blazing sky of my longing,
makes the crumbled collage of vermillion embers.
Soaking the scarlet of sunset my heart is drenched
by the tinsel drizzle of the dwindling twilight,
I see the stars sprout in pellucid autumn night.
For the frozen gloom in the winter of discontent
I retain the endearing warmth embedded
in autumn’s buoyant afterglow.
I see then how the argentine aura
of the mesmeric moon envelopes you,
where I float on the stardust waves of your charisma.
My vision is enmeshed with the lilting lattice of dreams,
weaved by the enticing filaments
of your entrancing fervor.
The diadem of diamond dew decks the dawn,
while the malachite tapestry spreads unfurled
on your emerald meadow,
where my yearning saunters to reach you,
following the new turquoise trail
I wish you trace only for me.
The true essence of love I then perceive enthralled,
configured with the glint of your sequined charm,
designing the milky way in my psychic firmament.
Draped by the enchanting luster of your alluring shine
my heart’s horizon will forever radiate sanguinity
as the epitome of your afterglow.
What are you looking for? This voice was cracking.
I looked up to see two crows. Which one had spoken?
I am searching for mica, I told them. It’s found in granite.
Is it sparkly? They looked interested.
I nodded, and they hopped around in the water, helping me look.
Next I stumbled upon a fawn, hidden in a glade, under a fallen oak.
How are you? I asked her. She was trembling too hard to speak.
A rabbit who had been guarding her hopped over to say
“nothing to see here,” so I moved on.
The forest is interesting when you cannot speak the language,
but when you can, it opens up new possibilities.
An aggressive wolf spoke to me next.
“I am going to howl tonight like you have never heard before."
I have no idea why he told me that,
maybe because I am a rival howler at night?
A springtime fawn found a placid pond and knelt down for a drink.
She bent her knees into the mud,
And placed her velveted chin
parallel to the pond
and the dawn found
the edge of the earth.
The touch of the fawn’s
Mouth made the water wake.
(and all things in it).
And as she drank,
the orchestra played the pond-song play.
The whole pond awoke to the sound of the little, lapping,
fawn’s tongue-song.
A tadpole was freed and ...Swam in the song.
He surfaced.
Greened in the dawn.
And surprised the fawn.
He saddled her sweet new nose
With his bright green clothes.
And she sneezed him
Aloft a red virgin rose.
What if the oasis of my mind dries in the desert,
clouds drenching parched passion don’t come low,
make your soft shadow spread on my heart.
My horizon waits for the southern wind to blow,
bring from the slate sky my yearning clouds below,
in the sand storm of the desert desire would flow.
What if you’re a lone tree in the fawn forest,
branches taking to the pale sky your gleaming green.
For a while in your cool shade I want to rest,
see the canopy play with the sun, I haven’t seen,
hear the song the leaves sing with raindrops serene,
reach the depth of your grace where I haven’t been.
What if the river of longing in my obscure vale gets lost,
the flowers wither on the verdant landscape turned fallow,
I’d preserve some, the ones you would like the most,
in my wasteland green grass of hope would again grow.
When the rains would bring you through the rainbow,
the flowers would embrace you, it’s me you’d know.
July 7, 2020
Contest : All Yours (May 27)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
I open the window on the pasture
The whisper of the northern breeze I hear
Saying the scorching summer is going away
The mellow footfall of autumn follows.
The purple prism of sunburst autumn horizon
Splits sunrays coloring the dawn in multi-hues
The tinged blades of fawn grass sway in meadow
That wears the glowing crown of topaz dew.
The trees absorb the autumn’s color explosion
Paint the leaves blazing crimson and gold
Knowing the dance of hues on them won’t last
For they will all drift in the haze of the winter air.
The sepia trees line the cinnabar garden path
The gilded leaves leave their bare boughs
For its their time to grow wings and fly away
Soar to freedom in the serene sky before they fall.
________________
January 4, 2023
Quote used : #7
Contest : Feel Free
Sponsored by : Sara Kendrick
"All the peaceful beauty of nature's renascence I find poetic."
Quote by _Constance
Autumn's_
faded decay
is resting under winter's cold white cloak;
waiting quietly for spring's rebirth
when awakening comes to the maple, birch and oak,
and the birds sing with mirth;
the flowers are giving birth,
awakening_
Soon, the forest has an emerald sway
and rain will soak
the earth,
on a restoration day,
in a stream a frog will loudly croak,
and all the ravage of autumn and winter will be gone.
While in a clearing stands a fawn,
and on a hidden forest pond glides a swan.
Oh, poetic renascence_
_________________________
October 29, 2022
Poetry/Imagism/Renascence
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1497-795-29
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, This or That, Vol. 14
sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Judged 11/11/2022
Third Place
Submitted to the Premiere contest, Brian Strand No. 1165
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 01/02/2023
Dawn, when silence falters
And the trees of the range-
Are tucked in a bucket of fog
Marching dawn, whose beauty never alters,
I tuck myself in blankets like a log
At the Treetops Hotel upon the range
Dainty dreams upon dawn’s altar
The dappled peacock dazes the dawn
While the African crowned eagle
Will soar, prowling for prey
And tourists peep and picture the fawn
While their eyes prowl the breakfast tray
Jacaranda festooned fashion regal
Its blue flowers blue snowfall upon dawn
Elephants trudge to the watering hole
Buffalo follow, even the bush buck
The warthog always walks silly,
The big five will steal your soul
At the Ark's perch, you will be stuck
The water adorned by the pond lily
The range's serenity, waters your soul
Pristine streams gush from the moorlands
The Hagenia, decked in velvet green
The sword lily, sheathed in fibrous tunic
And as the Karuru falls hit land
True love will pierce to the gene
For pristine nature, is the true cupid.
Breaths bated as lovers hold hand
Further, nestled nigh in the blue skies
The Kinangop peak, peeking through
The closer I get, the further it hides
A sun bird chatters, along my trail's high
My eyes in tune, such wondrous hillsides
I sweat as I head towards the bamboo
I am among the butterflies
Ringlets in a dance, oh! Surreal world
Monkeys swing, tree to tree, a trail of imagination
A reed buck is openly grazing
A canvas of the grassland in its gold
I spot a Serval cat, in hiding
On a safari truck, the breeze is an inspiration
Beauty flows in the altitudes that I behold
At dusk the steeped villages prepare for sleep
The Nyandarua range, yawns its last
Fabled home of the Kikuyu god
Curtain like shadows befall the steep
And this wonderland begins to nod
As the women fluff off days dust fast
Men’s ears wide open as it darkens deep
Wild animals are known to visit
Roving around, excitement for the young
But the animals are known to visit hungry
The locals know too well, memories vivid
An elephant’s wrath is meted out bluntly
Protection for man and beast not far flung
Conservation and nurture is the spirit
As Mount Satima watches her watered floors,
She knows the heart goes deep
Collaboration with njeri hunjeri who is a wonderful poet
Farcical fancies,
Woodland rhymes,
These are not just
For bedtimes!
Farcical fancies,
Wait and see;
You’ll repeat them
Back to me!
—————
Woodpecker, really,
Won’t you hush!
By now, aren’t your
Brains all mush?
Woodpecker, silly,
Watch your head!
If I did that,
I’d be dead!
—————
Polliwog, Bullfrog,
Here’s a joke
It’s so bad,
You’ll want to croak!
Polliwog, Bullfrog
Deep, deep voice:
Burping flies;
He’s got no choice!
—————
Squirrely Tree Rat
In that tree,
Why you looking
Down at me?
Squirrely Tree Rat,
He rebuts
Accusations
That he’s nuts!
—————
Tadpole, thrashing
In the bog.
All grown up now,
You’re a frog!
Froggy, ribbiting
Never stops.
Come too close,
Away he hops!
—————
Armadillo,
He’s all that:
Cross between a
Tank and rat!
Armadillo,
Eating grubs,
Always messing
Up my shrubs!
—————
Turtle, tortoise,
Slowly roams
Wherever he goes,
Right at home!
Turtle, tortoise,
I can’t tell;
Scared and hiding
In your shell!
————
Coney, Bunny
Best beware:
Old Coyote’s
Lurking there!
Coney, Bunny,
Coyote’s there!
Hide the brush,
He likes your hare!
----------
Slippery, slimy
Snail’s so slow
Need a car ride?
Yes, car, go!
Seek and find
The slimy snail.
He can’t hide;
He leaves a trail!
—————
Sleeps all day,
The wise old owl,
Nighttime comes,
He’s on the prowl.
Little field mouse,
Brown and cute.
Owl is coming;
Time to scoot!
—————
Earthworm rain dance,
Wiggle, shout!
Best take cover,
Sun is out!
Night, night, crawler
Never learns.
Robin’s early;
Gets the worm!
—————
Red and wobbly,
Spotted fawn
Scampering
Across the lawn!
Hears a noise,
Trouble knows;
Back to mother
Quick, she goes!
—————
Old Man Crow struts,
Shouts caw! caw!
Tells the world
About what he saw.
Old Man Crow,
Word to the wise:
Caws because he’s
Full of lies!