Long Flitters Poems
Long Flitters Poems. Below are the most popular long Flitters by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flitters poems by poem length and keyword.
The cascading stream murmurs mystically
as it flows across the pulsating plateau,
and through the swathing sprawling forest,
fostering emerald opulence to the ultimate,
that splashes silver streaks beyond the banks,
bending on the wavy contours of the vale
with flicking torrent of exuberant design
like the en echelon flock of swan in fervent flight.
The brook meanders in lively loops
on the verdant swathe of swerving ferns,
scattering with verve of riverine exhilaration,
the swirling strings of splattering pearls.
The coalescing currents glide, serenading through
the aural symphony of ambient silence,
blending with the whispering refrain
of the rippling wind passing passionately by.
Flying over the crystalline water, changing shape
within the migrant motif of the ebullient flow,
the robins returning from the winter wilderness
twitter the joyous springtime song.
As in the skeletal boughs of the defoliated trees
the new satin leaves sprout and rustle,
the beguiling fleet of butterflies flitters
around the color-burst blooming flowers.
The onyx night shapes the silhouette of sapphire sky
above the malachite profile of the forest canopy,
that wears the jeweled crown of heavenly décor,
embroidered by the stellar lattice of the twinkling stars,
sprinkling the silver sequins of morphed dream,
that drizzle through the diaphanous moonshine mist.
I’m entranced by nature’s awesome splendor,
inspiring me to capture its beauty with woven words.
As dusk slowly creeps in,
Just as the sun begins
To duck its head behind the trees,
causing the shadows to stretch and distort into dark, haunting figures.
A golden sparkle catches my eye
It flutters and flitters about,
Growing larger and brighter
as it comes closer.
I blink my eyes several times.
I cant believe what it is
that I am seeing.
Before me is
the most beautiful fairy.
Her golden hair and wings
Sparkle in the fading sunlight.
Her gown is made of the finest silk,
finer than I have ever
had the pleasure of looking upon.
She has a warm, comforting glow that surrounds her tiny body
and the warm feeling of unconditional love that
that seems to radiate from her
Making you feel safe and secure
Like the feeling of a loving mothers embrace
Or perhaps like being in the arms of the Christ Consciousness itself.
I wonder if I am dreaming
And as if in answer she spoke
"This is not a dream"
One would think that such a small being would have a voice to match but as she spoke the sound touched my heart and soul.
It filled me with hope. I was in awe of this small being that held such power within her.
She opened her mouth once more to speak
All that came this time was a shrill buzzing noise. Surely this couldnt have come from this beautiful creature.
Once again the shrill, piercing noise.
I knew that noise, but from where?
I closed my eyes to try to remember.
When I opened them again,
I was back in my bed.
My room was the hue of the setting sun.
The disappointment filled me,
I glanced out the window
and saw a golden sparkle.
Unfaded colors of years enwrap you with grace,
like a leaf tinged by twilight you glow on birthday.
I float on reverie, encircling you on wings of zephyr,
I write this pulsating poem of heart just for you.
As we soak the glimmer of the emerald meadow,
you become the pristine patina of the dainty dawn.
Even in twilight hour the golden day doesn’t end,
for in my sky you’re the sanguine sun that never sets.
While the flowers wither in my autumn garden,
in you I see the blossoms of the everlasting spring,
where my yearning flitters like the beguiled butterfly
around your floral charisma that never wanes.
In the voyage across the tempestuous sea of life,
I don’t lose course sailing to the shore of longing.
I shall reach its silver beach lapped by waves of joy,
for you’re my alluring pole star that never strays.
In the desiccated desert over the dunes of despair
my satiated heart doesn’t chase the mirage of fervor,
for my soul has found the fountain of flowing bliss
in the delightful oasis that you’ve become for me.
September 4, 2021
Contest : A Poem To Your Spouse On His-Her Birthday
Sponsor : Funom Makama
Illusion in this house of the mind -
a kitchen drawer that one can find.
Lost things will roar in this Junk Drawer,
lots more than anyone ought to ignore.
Inside it were cries 'n clips 'n pieces:
our oldest sorrow that never ceases.
Monkey Mind flitters from here to there,
cares little since it's unaware.
Feelings best left behind closed doors,
forever secrets in Junky Drawers.
Objects that have found a proper place -
in this keep, they earn their special space.
This chamber reveals a Junky Mind,
where wayward thoughts shall be confined.
Tiny treasures get tucked away,
left for discovery another day.
In the dark of night the whippoorwill cries
As it flitters beneath the night’s blue sky
Master of camouflage. Heard, seldom seen
Is searching for woodland insects to glean
Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! The nightjar trills
As it glowers and swoops down for the kill
Insects traversing the forest take heed
For the mottled bird has tremendous speed
It nests on the ground, it perches in trees
It’s gray-brown plumage the color of leaves
Up at dawn, at dusk, and on moonlit nights
Brindled bird rests with the coming of light
Tiny bird with a magnanimous shrill
Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! The nightjar trills
Placid winter cuddles close, lacing exotic spring.
Tapestry of flowers, birds in heavenly wings.
Wakes up a green canopy, exalted in chirpy trill
Peeps, cheeps in rhythm, clatter in medley thrill.
Dappled throat, bright feather, flitters branch to branch.
Gyrating chest in trees, notes perch in avalanche
Tra la la.. chick a dee dees cheer, orchestra in chorus.
Red blue Robin, Cardinal...songbirds..so gorgeous.
Songs of love, waddling dance, bugles of mating calls.
Titillating tunes, virulent envy, conceals clever eyeballs.
Nuzzling beaks love wives and chicks, "its my territory."
Crescendo of man and bird..isnt it the same love story?
------------------///------------////--------------///-----------///---------
It is established that songbirds sing with the
objective of attracting female mating partners
and also to broadcast their range of territories.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
16th February 2019
PLACED FOURTH in Songbirds Contest of Tania Kitchin
PLACED FIRST in Brian Strands Feb 2019 Contest
You are the prettiest
If I were to invent a new word
I would call you beautifulest
For your lips so soft and red
The thought of kissing stuck in my mind
Your eyes sparkle like stars
and when I stare into them I feel like soaring high
I never thought this love would be so wonderful
You always show the perfectly curved poise
And I remember your smile so radiant and warm
I crave for your glowing angelic presence
I see you know,my heart flitters
and I know how lucky I am to have met you
I remember your touch so delicate and gentle
and I admit I love you without knowing
how or when or from where
So I love you because I know no other way
A speck drifts in the wind blown hither and tither,
Briefly settling then takes to the air once more.
Now a charged particle thanks to the storm,
It flitters around like a beautiful butterfly.
Travelling the world at the whim of winds
visiting Australia, Asia and Africa on its way.
The frozen plains of Europe weigh it down
As it mixes with ice that freezes it hard.
Drifting aimlessly northwards, it, then
picks up the gulf stream still heading north.
Finally over the Shetland Isles it comes
to rest, Oh the tales that it could tell us.
Now it adds richness to the thin soil
here spring plants will take a grip
and burst into wondrous blooms
all due to a small mote of dust.
A bud blossoms beauty in the prime of spring,
sways as a beguiled ballerina in the amorous air,
enchanted in the middle of the night when the moon sings
for the flower to swing in its refrain with luring flair.
I see in the blooming patina the glimmer of godly grace,
as with boundless joy the butterflies dance.
When the flower folds the pristine petals in midnight hour,
the bunch of butterflies making lilting aerial lattice,
entwined with the sailing sequins of the sonorous moon dust,
flitters in its cadence searching for the floral fragrance.
I see heavenly beauty in the scene sublime,
as with everlasting exuberance the butterflies dance.
When the rippling wind sings the moonshine melody,
sparkling lines of sliver lace dulcet design in drifting cloud,
reflected subtly in the mesmeric motif of the butterfly wings,
fluttering in the tempting tune of the mystique moon song.
I see in the midnight hour the image of bliss in the divine glow,
as with rapturous rhythm the butterflies dance.
We meet in the glimmer of the emerald meadow,
you become the placid patina of the pearly dawn.
Even in twilight hour the golden day doesn’t end,
for you’re my sanguine sun that would never set.
While the flowers wither in my autumn garden,
you suffuse the scent of blossoms for the spring,
when my yearning flitters like beguiled butterfly
at the still edge of hued horizon that never fades.
In the voyage on tempestuous sea of forlorn life,
I don’t lose course searching for shore of longing.
I shall reach its silver beach lapped by waves of joy,
for you’re my alluring pole star that never deviates.
In the desiccated desert over the dunes of despair
my parched heart never chases the mirage of fervor,
for my soul has found the fountain of lasting bliss
in the delightful oasis that you’ve become for me.
May 7, 2020
Contest : Regal Royal Relationships
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke