Long Flits Poems
Long Flits Poems. Below are the most popular long Flits by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flits poems by poem length and keyword.
as love outpours its own sublime essence
each imbibes hues of chosen resonance
free will determining the vibration
making music tuned to its gyration
in a play of divine entwined romance
child wondrous visiting a foreign land
flits about in trance till he understands
that fleeting images merely come and go
whilst bliss within eternal and mellow
all that that is empowered by Gods hand
dynamic stillness in field kinetic
enlivened silence when heart ecstatic
centred in nonchalance void our fulcrum
each node within bliss throb sensorium
rainbow in full view magic eclectic
08-February-2021
Against the azure sky so bright
she flutters by,
with grace on high
in ever random flowing flight.
This lovely butterfly behold
in orange and black,
no beauty lack;
‘tis nature’s gift to man all told.
She flits through garden flowers hued,
from coral bells
to daisy shells,
to sip sweet nectar, natures food.
I gaze at beauty from afar;
she flutters free,
cannot she see
the one who thinks she is a star.
I’ve watched her all these many years,
and seen her bloom
from her cocoon;
a father proud who stands and cheers
as daughter spreads her wings in flight.
With grace on high,
she flutters by
against the azure sky so bright.
September 3, 2018
In the absence of complication,
trials and tribulations become distant memories.
Above sapphire skies delight sanguine eyes -
inspiring forthcoming musings of the mind.
Orange-gold trickles from those sapphire skies alight on my warm freckled skin.
I bask in saffron deliciousness, mind-lapping this moment of utter simplicity.
Inside the mindfulness of my chrysalis, I relish a metamorphosis
to new-found freedom’s sweetness
which flits away agony and woes on butterfly wings.
Did I release the pain, or did the pain release me?
It matters not; I stay quiet writing -
for now – a blissful sunflower following the sun
Nov. 22, 2019 for 'Your Best New Poem' Poetry Contest of Emile Pinet
First four lines were inspired by Silent One's contest
Who gauge a crown with stars at its edge,
and fathom hollows beleaguered trails.
An unmarked course decorates the pledge,
may tether the ring that brinks its ledge,
the faithful choose sky-map to lead sails.
Instruments and gadgets beg a touch,
there's more to be that makes a wonder,
this and that may serve their purpose much,
the dream remains lest they'll be nonesuch,
let strength soar and the weak go under.
No small outcome affects such a trend,
for the passage takes time that will cost,
as novel concerns promptly descend,
who'll be the wiser, a fool ascend,
impulsive predicaments, claims lost.
Star jumpers uses time just because,
the relevance bears no consequence,
... till, time travel--worthy for a pause,
redo's and reviews, for errs, check flaws,
back to Plan A, ... but, ... add the sixth sense.
Unexplored regions challenge like bees,
too soon to choose a risk you will lose,
time's created for necessities,
prompts none to favor to win with ease,
cast a world less one constant amuse.
Harmony soothes what tragedy flits,
the ancient mariner in full spring,
a starry heaven affairs true grits,
ample weighs a voyage chart by wits,
the wellspring flows free -- if anything ...
Dawn on spider silk—
A wren's wing brushes one strand,
pearls get rearranged—
web keeps its geometry,
only the dewdrops have gone.
Sea mists on a pane.
A beam of sunlight sneaks through
opening the view
The room fills with fresh insight
the glass was never quite touched.
Moonlight falls on pond.
A reed bends and flits a leaf
from the water's skin.
The stars' reflections remain
unruffled by the ripples.
A loose silver hair
caught upon a jacket sleeve—
deft fingers pause, then
borrow it for half a breath
before the mind can claim it.
A word almost said.
Hangs sharp between two old friends.
A teacup is poured.
steam skims anger flecks aside,
while a spoon stirs the tea leaves.
Mother's soft fingers.
Lift a lash from a boy's cheek—
he never looks up.
A small kindness passes by
unnoticed by either eye.
Sat by the bedside.
She loosens his wedding ring
twists it part aside.
The pale band beneath remains—
pale skin bands outlast the gold.
When last light thins out,
even the gentlest touch fails
to lift what's worn thin—
Outside, moonlight skims the roof;
bounces, flits, and flies away.
A lone moth flits around my front porch light
as wind blows through my window, luring me
to step outside into black velvet’s night.
I search the sky, but no moon can I see.
It seems it’s disappeared, just like my love.
The moaning wind plays havoc with my hair
as that old bulb sways crazily above.
In solitude, I simply stand and stare
at that fool insect! How can it not know
the falseness of the light that it’s drawn to?
Fluorescent doom replaces moon’s sweet glow.
I know this well because in losing you
I lost love’s gleam; I lost my everything,
and still that silly moth is fluttering. . .
written 11/6/2014
Submitted Sept. 12, 2022
For Mark Toney's 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 14 Poetry Contest
At dawn, a heron
stands
stitched to the reeds;
one leg folded
beneath its body
it's neck and body
drawn poised and taut
on a bowstring.
The marsh
has remembered
how to carve birds
from mist;
how to balance
feather against reflection;
how to hang
a morning
between heartbeats.
Beneath the mirrored
frozen sky,
where clouds drift
whenever it looks away
the currents comb the roots
minnows flash silver
a fly flits its wings
and sedges bow their stems
in brief
eye-to-side glances
unnoticed.
For a moment
everything seems
to have stopped:
the bird,
the water,
the breath,
the moment,
are paused
to say:
Touché! Olé!
Touché! Olé!
on borrowed time.
I love her looks and lovely lips,
The light her sweet smile brings,
And how she speaks and sways her hips--
She flits and floats as if with wings.
Each move she makes means more than I
Can comprehend or contemplate,
And so I’m often baffled by
The meaning of her mysterious gait.
She has a way with words that we
Would want her simply to eschew;
For when we’re ready to agree,
She’ll quickly change her point of view.
A fearless, formidable foe
Who would win any altercation,
She finds the words she needs as though
She was an alliteration.
So silently I sit and sigh,
And just learn to live life sans strife.
For this woman I can’t decry
Is no other than … shush!…my wife.
October 30, 2024
Baguio City, Philippines
As Miss Luby watches from her window
a moving van backs up
the driveway across the street
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
its warning cry has a beacon-like effect
on the neighborhood
arousing interest from all corners
everything suddenly shaken awake
Even the squirrels stop, stock-still
save an occasional flick of the tail
Miss Luby's cat, also
watching from the window
pauses momentarily, paw suspended
before continuing to clean herself
And one by one, the other inhabitants
invent clever ways to investigate
without seeming obviously interested
Miss Luby's next-door neighbor, Fred
flits outside to water the plants
in his front flowerbeds, distractedly
soaking the sidewalk instead
While dotty old Mrs. Pappadopoulos
puffs along, pulling her little Pomeranian
up the street for a “walk”
slyly turning her head, rather owlishly
as she passes by
Silvia, Miss Luby's other next-door neighbor
is still in her housedress and can't go out
so she sends her three beastly little boys out
to play, knowing they will get the inside scoop
and sure enough, within forty-five seconds
they have accidentally-on-purpose
sent a toy airplane across the street
and spend the next half hour retrieving it
following the new neighbors
in and out like so many
playful puppies
Not to be left out
of the hullabaloo, the hoity-toity
housewife from two doors down
high-steps out to size up the new arrivals
over-casually strolling with
her beautifully bundled babies in tow
putting on quite a show
suddenly disappointed
realizing they're just common-folk
not the kind she wanted to know
All the while, the new neighbors
exhausted, amble in and out
of their new home
staggering
under stacks of small pieces
lumbering along
awkwardly lugging larger ones
A teenage boy
silently glides past on a skateboard
giving side-eye to the boring, middle-aged
couple- as he is nearly hit by a car passing by
driver distracted by the moving van
A witch flits and twists through the indigo mist.
A bright orange bracelet illumines her wrist.
I see through the gloom she’s not riding a broom.
Her oversized black pointy hat sports a plume.
The shadows reveal other ghoulies. All squeal
in unison “TRICK OR TREAT!” I seal the deal
by giving them goodies with great kid-appeal.
Note for Tania's Contest:
The first line was chosen from a list for the previous contest. Maintaining the meter--one iambic foot and three anapestic feet per line--was a challenge, but I didn't allow it to prevent me from conveying my intended theme.
Date: September 13, 2019
Contest Title: Welcome to My Random World received NA
Date: October 1, 2019
Contest Title: Best Poem That's Trophy Worthy, Premiere Contest 2
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin