Long Fends Poems
Long Fends Poems. Below are the most popular long Fends by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fends poems by poem length and keyword.
Fear does not rule these wholesome thoughts,
worry may be present at times, suppressing laughs;
look around you...everything radiates under the morning light,
even the most faithless heart is moved by the wonder of something bright!
Would we fret when demons invade darkness and lurk?
Would we still hide until night has left the whole Earth?
Being afraid that they would return offends your God...
to have no fragment of faith in what He has spoken aloud!
For your own good and mine I will keep a vigil with candles burning,
while strong incense fends off all the demons that would crawl on the ceiling;
it will resemble the altar of a church that a saint built to honor Christendom...
how envious and furious they would be to remind them of martyrdom!
Let those demons know that we are the followers of Christ,
the defenders of our faith despite the battles we fight with light;
let's chase them 'till they reach Hell...to tell Lucifer of our defense!
Oh, they will be back with a wrath and a wickedness too intense!
O warm light shine more brightly when demons invade darkness from afar!
O warm light shine more brilliantly than the wonderful Northern Star!
Look down on me and assure me that you will linger and not leave;
and I will keep my dripping candles burning...so strongly I believe!
Wind outside my tiny home, wreaking chaos on its porch
Wicker chairs and potted plants, stand firmly against its force
Finely tuned chimes sound loudly, sending sweetly toned notes into the night
A candle I’ve lit flickers, with the flow of cool currents through aging wooden panes
As the warm glow from the fire, now comforting, fends off the chill from a cool springtime rain
Tuxedo cats hardly notice a thing, intertwined into something resembling a fine sable
Opening one eye on occasion, then quickly returning to twilight
The fire logs let out a soft sounding hiss, as they shrink into hot glowing embers
Fixing my gaze towards its vibrant colors. Comforting, Hypnotic
Drift off to sleep with sounds of a storm. Who’s sharp pitches and tones
Guiding me gently like binaural beats and theta waves
Into another state, created by conscious choice. A world of making all my own
The old male lion awakes,
lifts his great head,
but it is midday and so he sleeps yet more.
Come the night his lionesses will hunt
while the king fends off
other male pretenders to his throne.
The female lions perhaps wonder,
(as they stalk and leap),
how soon will the old lion weaken and die,
how soon will the pride have
a new and stronger leader?
At this point some may wonder
what to do with the notion of love?
The night is long, blood -hungers
hunt a passionate intimacy,
and few escape that kind of love.
Love itself is kept for the cubs
that in turn one day
may drive away their mothers.
Keeper of the Flame
Flame born in Genesis’ labors
Springs from the eternal parent’s word,
Image of the ever present truth,
Soars above impotent earth
Lost in the swirling numb abyss
Fragile fire kindled by a vision’s flint
Bright vow intoned grows a fiery flower
Set upon a high rising hill in trust
Until the Keeper, born from dust,
Stands watch
Raptured sentinel face set against
Howling hurricanes,
That rise like screaming phantoms,
And the siroccos plan to shatter fire
Into embers with its jagged breath;
Cloaked by the chrysalis protection
The Keeper thwarts designs
To kidnap from the mountain fortress
Celestial inspiration’s blaze of grace -
And the wild Kerry dances intent to steal
Then slay bright fire
In the foul air of wicked conflagration -
With shields forged in eternity’s tinder grace,
Keeper, Guardian,
Fends off fiends of stalking chants;
A smokeless incense of inspiration rises
Forever young
A blessing kindled for the Keeper’s heart
Ambassador anointed - guardian of the eternal flame.
3-24-22
Contest: This or That
Title chosen Keeper of the Flame
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
A defenseless seed planted in spring's tempestuous furrow
Nourished with fertile juices; warmed in caressing burrow
Escaping subterranean cavern into formative strand, roots still
shallow
Sprouting into a strappling seedling that doth hope, promise bellow
In sweltering, summer haze; tender stem bows and bends
Strong, directionless winds blow; the fragile stalk spins
Froward pests snip at the intestinal fiber, productive growth
ammends
Heavy torrents of doubt seep inward drowning the hidden tentacles
on which outward growth depends
After arduous spring travails end, summer's balmy season begins
Long, dry days with timid growth to begin
Steadying anchor balasts the green adolescent, promise to portend
Stronger constitution allows the fecund shoots against blight,
predators defend
Stiff resistance, ample growth produces fruitful dividend
Late summer, vibrant plant reaches it's zenith, ripening fruit
suspends
Toils of younger days along with the growing pain ends
Mellower-toned follicles displaying strong genetic traits from each
stem extends
Acclimated to unforgiving environment, with spare fuel, for its
place ardently fends
Off a righteous God America stop the persecutions
We are due out love from you; Stop the profiles
And stand in our shoes and skin for a while, now, How would you feel now?
Situations where people acted as if they were suspicious of you, Because of your race, wow!
Black America far less likely than whites to give police high marks
For the way they do their jobs, now
General public views fatal encounters between black people and police very differently whew!!
WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD, WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD- WAKE UP
THESE ARE THE VOICES OF VICTUMISED BLACK MAN IN THE USA
Public calls such incidents signs of broader problems
Racist yeah, yeah our good White brothers and sisters and White Christians hate this
Some of our white brothers and sisters if it’s not there brood or kindred folks there’s no problem
Watch out it’s…Most of the white Latino officers
Say fatal encounters tween blacks and police are isolated incidents
Majority of black officers disagree, this base on facts No philosophy
Demonstrations over the deaths of blacks, Encounters with law enforcement
Were motivated to great extends by anti-police bias, what
Now instilled America since freedom years
They still denounce and hide this, a black man who dies by a gun
Is most portrayed as righteous dangerous boy walking away on the run
WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD, WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD- WAKE UP
THESE ARE THE VOICES OF VICTUMISED BLACK MAN IN THE USA
2016 THAT RELATIONS TIXT/TWEEN POICE IN THERE DEPARTMENT BLACKS IN THE COMMUNITY EXCELLENT Yeah this is what they said
Overwhelming majority of police officers 86% said high profile fatal encounters has made their jobs harder and yet these killings have taken away many husbands children’s fathers, uncles, cousins and brothers
WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD, WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD- WAKE UP
THESE ARE THE VOICES OF VICTUMISED BLACK MAN IN THE USA
Heighted tension between these illuminated colored fends
Left many offices reluctant to use force when appropriated
Questions people who seemed suspicious WHAT!!!
WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD, WAKE UP GEORGE FLOYD- WAKE UP
THESE ARE THE VOICES OF VICTUMISED BLACK MAN IN THE USA
8/6/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
Jubilation filled the room and lit my mother’s face on her 80th birthday.
Everyone she loved, both friends and family, had come from near and far away.
A huge surprise, the secret was well kept by all, even by her children, all seven!
Never had she felt such joy; through tears she said,“This is how it must be in Heaven."
For Line Gauthier's 'Bite Size Poem no13' Poetry Contest
Written 3/20/2015 and dedicated to a beautifully spiritual and strong woman who raised eight children, one that died in the 80's, and who lost her husband to Alzheimer's over a decade ago. Today she lives alone in our Iowa home town and fends for herself. Spry and independent, she will be 90 next March (2022).
Please check out the slide show (see above) of the wonderful family reunion we had in 2013!
So pretty wrapped in thorns, my dearest rose.
A dish, adorable, a pitbull — small.
She fends off fiends with nettled hands propose.
All pluck, with red stripe lips, sparks Springlike drawl.
Afresh in scent and velvet soft array,
blue bruise of her ornamental chamber.
This Cleopatra tease does make men bay.
This wild wine rose no pet prince can tame her.
The cut came quick, the snip of sharpened glass.
The former blushing queen of humble green.
The bucolic roar spreads, the plucked red lass
surrendered to the vase — a dauntless teen.
Ever after lasts but an hourglass bit.
The sunset quick — the sand that sinks her wit.
8/1/2018
Mark Massey’s Not Just Any Rose Poetry Contest