Long Fern Poems
Long Fern Poems. Below are the most popular long Fern by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fern poems by poem length and keyword.
Thou a console graceful reign upon a heartache, serenity
Thou, sun danced virtue is a longing of mine, silly me
the darkness that knew me for so long.
reign upon a heartache, serenity
Thou a console graceful reign upon a heartache, serenity
Aimless longing in plethora rushing in the depth of darkness
unknown is the sinking time and whence
fathomless hemlock voyage
My Lord, Savior of the world in ominous auspicious
Stand up, a refrain to an intruder transgress
Beneath thy holy feet lies my
expiation of the worldly translucence
reign upon a heartache, serenity
Thou a console graceful reign upon a heartache, serenity
Thou art, in igneous and caustic, the eternal horizon merging the deepest blue, solitude arose
Thou art, a spiral fern, a sweating cloud, a starlight , absorbed an oracle , in clues
I soar high, with my blindfolded sigh
My teardrops trickle down in the depth of the night.
I have seen nothing, I have wondered nothing
May thy light upon me, guideth to be
serene upon a heartache, serenity
Thou a console graceful reign upon a heartache, serenity
Thou, sun danced virtue is a longing of mine, silly me
the darkness that knew me for so long.
reign upon a heartache, serenity
Thou a console graceful reign upon a heartache, serenity
Beneath the fury of sun
Wades a wobbly nun
Stomping on thorns
Watch the teary ferns
Scars on her skin
Carrying wounds engraved
Curse devious grin
And snakes she once craved
She sucked and spitted
Bouts of venom in her blood
Tainted by flood
Of emotions she once knitted
Profuse tears of fern
They observe
Drip on her burn
Numbing pain so perverse
Weeped the clouds
In meloncholic ambience
Silence crept loud
Spotting redemption in defiance
Step out the vines
Adorning her bruises
Wind's penchant to divine's
Yearning, she refuses
Blanket of ferns
Ease her shivers
While the moon upturns
Bogs were her new weavers
Time passed by
Has been watching the sky
Fern decays
Her soul repays
This rainy morning you gave me a feel of your flower
Thank you I want to give you a poem in return
Soaked in pleasant smell of the showers
I like your eyes going through these words from green fern
Thank you I want to give you a poem in return
As you sing in the fifth avenue pavement
I like your eyes going through these words from green fern
As the passer-by drops a dollar swayed by the moment
As you sing in the fifth avenue pavement
Raindrops dripping from your soft brown hair
As the passer-by drops a dollar swayed by the moment
You smile and feel you can now pay for the Medicare
Raindrops dripping from your soft brown hair
Your old mom is in her sickbed at your home
You smile and feel you can now pay for the Medicare
I have mentioned her in a stanza of my poem
Your old mom is in her sickbed at your home
Look the sky is clearing up and the blue returns
I have mentioned her in a stanza of my poem
Let us pray she gets well and you are in my arms
Look the sky is clearing up and the blue returns
Soaked in pleasant smell of the showers
Let us pray she gets well and you are in my arms
This rainy morning you gave me a feel of your flower
______________________________________________________
25/07/2017
worshipful master’s fez kept slipping off his head.
he was irritated and blamed the trumpet flower.
tittering faeries kept him irritated, this honored Ted.
Ted sat in their bouquet, annoyed by their power.
they had him all confused and curiously tense.
with their girly charms and their faerie ways.
he sat among their giggling in masculine suspense.
wondering what they had in mind for him these days.
smiling smirking faeries are first fun, but they sometimes turn.
his grandpa found out when his heart was captured by one.
gramps lives a life of toil and work, driven hard by his wife Fern.
a faerie who keeps him busy while she flies off and has the fun.
Once upon a budding arcadian green
a last veil winter hoar melts on the bud -
Romney low country lambs fattened to wean
chew in flocks upon the ruminant cud.
In the tea trees to the whistling song thrush
I alone hear that first September dawn,
and outside beyond ryegrass, fern and rush
glisten woolly coats of sheep early shorn.
Oh to feel again its warm gentle breeze
on greensward and dryads in the gnarled trees.
But upon the altar of this season’s new day
so a spring offering is born a prey.
In stone moss stream, wild aromatic grass,
the sleeping flower does the sun invite
but an ancient blood moon shall come to pass
on the shadows of day and dark of night.
Soon the muster will shatter a false peace
in cornucopia of herd and bloom -
nigh the yard gates will fill with milky fleece
and only finest wool spin on the loom.
Oh to feel again its warm gentle breeze
on greensward and dryads in the gnarled trees.
But upon the altar of this season’s new day
so a spring offering is born a prey.
Smell the petrichor and jade scented hedge,
the lambs, the honeybees in pollen’s net -
that botany of sights and sounds and fledge
of young and new moonrise to moonset.
The morepork on night hunt moonlit prowl
casts its eye and spreads its speckled wing -
and in the mists see swamphens and waterfowl
rise again the prismatic dawn of spring.
Written: August 1989
115.
My 28th Leaf
Plucked thee on leg high
Some tombs are nearby
People are mourning
Sunshine is scorching
A kind of “grass fern”
By nature it's born
So soil to adorn
Planted by no one
Owned by everyone
I'm with some mourners
April Eleven
During internment
It was time of noon
Teacher buried soon
Picked this while standing
On cemetery
Dumarao county
Few metres away
Where Ma'am Zen's tomb lay
Side sarcophagus
Teacher's memorial
From her day's burial
Guidance Counselor
My precious mentor
Ma'am Macalipay.
-04/11/1012
(Dumarao)
"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
She became a leaf on a tree, a speck of dust, a limb still attached
shining like the sun she was the light that splayed upon nature's hour
but when the shadows came, she wrote her thoughts on a binder,
and became an evening cornflower.
Hungering by the river's edge she kept her secrets inside her diary
as she glided with imaginative desire on a silver lake of dreams
A permanent work of art inked and set aside, her words
a filament of nature's calligraphy.
Each pocket of earth described each single fern narrated,
by the apex of her linguistic, morphemes.
As the hourglass of time sifted finely down her filtered mind,
sweet poetry was born, germinated and seeded.
Life grows naturedly so does poetry when the heart is opened
she became part of the all-inclusive in this sweet haven,
where the everything and the always can only be described,
by a writer's pen and pluck.
November 24, 2022
Sponsor Sotto Poet
Contest Name Poetry is a life-cherishing force Contest
An ambitious druid set out to recover an omnipotent ancient fluid
She was a kind witch with a wee twitch about to discover a glitch
Laboured with great force to go back to the Source and in due course
She tabled a motion to produce a lotion or potion for better emotion
Applied for a grant to enchant with the Council of Fairy Queen Dreams
Because she was sicken and poverty stricken and needed support to comfort
Required assistance to overcome resistance to cast a spell and quell the cartel
Of warring factions that had gained traction shouting war score and gore
‘Let me make some agent at the sorcerers’ pageant and tame insane pain
That derives from seeds of greed and loony fixation on vicious vexation’
She ground fresh chamomile with a smile for healing dope in good hope
Crushed tea tree leaves and stinging nettle petals for release of peace
As foundation for libation she added more tricks to the mix and stirred fur
And holly berries infused and enthused cherries and compassion with passion
To fuel the tasty gruel she injected thyme and some lime and peat for a treat
Boiled the kettle full mettle with wood from the beach and threw in a peach
She sat on a willow pillow and offered for free her meal for people to heal
No taker they thought she’ a faker so for their concern she added some fern
And to convince she put a handful of quince and cold marigold into the fold
Yet when she accepted that people were too infected and simply objected
To spreading good will with delicious food skill she exclaimed 'what a shame’
Feasted on spruce juice and a tooth and went into space to start a new race
Starting from zero she became a hero and hailed a rage with heavenly sage
They built her a shrine with galaxy wine and accepted what earthlings rejected
The moral of the tale is when all else fails you find an innovative place to grind
Change perspective and position and decide to complete your fine mission
Where you can feed other’s need without angry fear of what is so dear
16th October 2019
We wait the rains over field and meadow
on plain and high country for so long quelled.
To dampen cracked earth, to make all things grow
till the crops are in and the herds have swelled.
Waiting the season’s drought-breaking falls
when the grid’s mighty river turbines turn -
Pacific gales and wild Southern Ocean squalls
on grove and vine and forest silver fern.
Where are the cloudbursts a summer storm brings,
flash of thunderbolts hurled from the sky?
The sunlit circle arc mists of rainbow rings
over catchment to end the long Big Dry.
Soon off the Roaring Forties come the rains
over eastern range and Canterbury Plains -
and soon its dams on river and farm and mill
will April falls return and once more fill.
Written: July 1992
I saw your light deep in the valley of my mind
Against the backdrop of fecund canopy stillness
With Dragon trees and other pines of Dagon
Shivering wet from the Spring
Yielding to June
Band warming Day,
as if the rush of Sunlight beaming
waywards
Couldn't hold the Summer aways
And New Cones sauntering
on the Shadowed Path
of my youthful heart
charged suddenly with Ambient light
glowing all around
fauna and shrub
fern and lilly
canticle of dahlia
and Mercury Rose
All Scents Sweetly culling
rivers of light
and the natural synthesis of Pine
Percolating from dust to dust
Like transistors of chlorophyll
or programmed scents from
the Maker
Rivers of light
running upwards
towards the Awaiting
Sun, an orb of light
And Nature's Full Symphony
A collection of Saintly notes
Melodious Larks and Sparrows
giving Birth to the First Ocean of light
the Sun Itself
The Final Sea
Suspended in Waves of Time shimmering
waves of Light
and Flowing towards Aethiru and from Aethiru
Until Time itself should gather its Eons of Unfolding
Memory and
Becomeas Bound as the Ocean
To Unwind Yet Again
The Mystery