Long Flowery Poems
Long Flowery Poems. Below are the most popular long Flowery by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flowery poems by poem length and keyword.
SUMMER BREEZE
Verse I
Summer breeze sometimes soft sometimes strong pretty- proud,
singing hot sunny song sometimes low sometimes loud.
Gardenia and jasmine on milky whiteness
arousing aroma with pleasant politeness.
Chorus
Summer breeze singing song strong loud soft or serene
recalling reminiscences to illumine.
Verse II
Summer gust on sudden thrust chasing fallen petals
whirling in windy breeze scattering scent feral.
Forgotten love vibrating in vortex vibrant
reminding abloom blossoms of past, once fragrant.
Chorus
Summer breeze singing song strong loud soft or serene
recalling reminiscences to illumine.
Verse III
Summer breeze flows at ease carrying flowery fragrance
Summer breeze not to cease, blow please, roam with romance.
Summer gust flowing fast cooling touch at dawn and dusk.
Nostalgic emotive urge appears, throwing mask.
Chorus
Summer breeze singing song strong loud soft or serene
Recalling reminiscences to illumine.
08/09/18
I think I'm happy...
Introvert at heart I was exhausted but enjoying myself like a good day at the gym
I had been participating in some verbal jogging when the jargon interrupted the depth of my thoughts
I wanted to go deeper, but the question brought me back to the surface
You know, that over used, over played, over copied, get out of jail free question
So, how did you feel?
A mental sigh fogs my mind, as I wait for the dust to settle, I try to paint what can't be replicated in any art
My response a cliche of my own just to joust back
In case we're keeping score
I'm deadly competitive to a fault, laughing to myself touché
Oh, my reply, I almost forgot
The cliche runs from my mouth: the words to describe it are lost but if found it would be something like watching the American Day Dream on the big screen except you're the main character
When your mood matches the brightness within the sunrise of your eyes and you’re by no means even a little bit of an early bird
You hear the sound of vinyl recorded melodies on repeat as you brush your teeth
The dust slowly undresses as I then get dressed
Looking for the perfect outfit is comparable to searching for these words
And don't even get me started on shoes
The right pair will have everyone on their heels and can capture the eyes to the soul
That day my soul sang solo after the shower rained down cleansing compliments
Chanting for an encore
The volume of the claps is turned down
The dust has finally kissed the ground
And for the reveal my reflection sees a familiar memory
As my mouth curves like a rose into a shape it hasn't felt in awhile
I've been chasing this flowery feeling like the butterfly tasting the flight of bliss
I grab as fast as I can, gripping the steering wheel headed to the destination
Shouting I'm never letting go
As my opposite palm holds her hand
I want to stop to picture frame this memory
I have to stop and picture frame this memory
We stop at the red light, and she asks: can I borrow a forehead kiss
I respond: as long as you come back again
p.s. this is happiness, it was something like that...
We made a trip to town today
And took West Mountain Road.
My friend and I prefer that way
Back there, where time has slowed.
We drove past farms in rolling hills
Where cattle grazed in shade
The creek we crossed wore summer frills
A flowery masquerade
Huge towering trees were thick as thieves
Which hid us from the sun
Still on occasion, through the leaves
He'd tag us on the run
"round hairpin curves, slowed to a crawl
As slow as one would walk
Protected by an old stone wall
Ignored by squirrel and hawk
We reached the summit way too soon
Rewarded by the view
The height and beauty made us swoon
One reason most eschew
It was a roller-coaster ride
We marveled at our luck
A quick descent down the backside
Wind swirling in the truck
We coasted all the way downtown
To shop and grab a snack
Then raced before the sun went down
To take West Mountain Road back.
By Daniel Turner
Drum beats
Sunrises
Dancing dusky clouds
In tune with blues
In leafy garden
To the hills of yearning
Never ending song
Sounds undying
Flowing rivers
Flying doves
Flowery forest
Primordial Eden
Your smile
Your eyes
Your silhouette
‘Till dawn
Covers the night
Moonlight
Crystal Sea
Reflections
Your beauty
From deep within
Your honesty
And simplicity
My heart’s felicity
Till I dream of you
Without fantasy
This heartstring
Melody
Harmony
Play intimately
Through the music of a child’s laughter
On the edge of a soft, silent whisper
Comes the grace that heals and fills
Hearts with sweetness, kindness, acceptance
Through the song that caresses the wind
When a robin flies over the gentle hills
Breathing hope into the precious inspirations
Of a joy that knows the comfort of imagination
Through the light that lingers on the clouds
Coloring the heavens in flowery signs of a smile
Murmuring merrily amid the grumble of rain showers
Flickering life into the heart of divine insight
Through the blaze of a fiery mystery, a secret
So intuitive and wise that it hangs optimism
Across the seas of understanding, adorning the moments
With beautiful dreams that haunt the soul with passion
Through the blushes of captivation and fulfillment
Linger beauties so alive they embrace the naked emotions
With a sense of enrichment that caresses the desires
Of a nature who reaches beyond the moment into eternity
Through the echoes reaching across the ridges of sapphire
Lightening the affections with simplicity and feathery visions
Lovely caresses of prayers and praises sending out illumination
Of joy, gentleness, feelings so rich and vibrant they’re healing
Through the promise of a God who lives in the heavens
Answering hearts and souls with inspirational messages
Caressing spirits with love so awash in ecstasy it fascinates
The life who listens to the still, small voice who breathes into
The spirit… assurance that His love is always with us
A certainty, assurance, reality… a penetrating tear
Dripping across the senses with fulfillment and softness
Benevolence and wisdom, freeing the soul to listen
To His pure, sweet spirit – calling through the sensations
Of a love that lingers on the embrace of God’s gift
God’s love is always with us – guiding us, filling us
Sweetening our lives and feelings – with goodness
Hope, faith and peace that meets all our needs
Brushes our thoughts with inspiration and colors our
World in hues of vibrant, flamboyant joy from knowing
GOD is alive – and He is living through my life!
I do not think I’d want the life
That brings forth all the images
Of pain and suffering and strife
That time not yet diminishes.
Although I love in my own way
I find I don’t express that well:
Romantic, flowery things to say
That flush the face, race hearts a spell.
My trials, mostly self-imposed,
Seem distant echoes from the past;
Though never would I have supposed
That they would fade from memory fast.
In round-about and tortured way,
I’m oft inspired or even awed
At all the thoughts you have to say,
Some eloquent, some badly flawed.
My little corner of the world
Seems somewhat simple, rather trite,
But I must pen of what I know,
Right ‘round the bend, ‘tis where I write.
Rainy nights have hidden
the friendly moon that visited my flowery window;
that was two seasons ago...
when I told her big secrets and didn't conceal pain.
The red-eyed owls watched me strangely and pitied my loneliness;
was I insane for staying up so late?
But sleep was like tasting real death...
I asked myself the same question, " Why dream until daybreak? "
The softness of the resplendent moonlight
must return on the same hour, and paint this sad face with silver moonbeams;
only then my dark night will turn bright...
to relive those summer's nights again and give life to another dream that gleams.
When the mind speaks
Poetry is immensely personal. I hide behind
storytelling, not talking about my feelings
but the sensibility of others.
What happens has nothing to do with me, the onlooker
the observer, like an architect surveying a building
and finding the house wrongly designed.
I don’t mind if the building has doors and windows
and are watertight, I gladly move in, love is
another country as passion is an ember of an ancient fire.
You say I’m a liar who tells the truth using the passage
of time as my mentor.
“Once upon a time, there was a cobbler…” There is not
a cobbler, but someone else timeless as history
written by those who weren’t there.
My writing is mundane, like a forest if they are not
so big I can’t find my way out
Sometimes it happens, and breaths of death come
into my mind, upsetting the delicate balance
between life and no life.
I’m not an intellectual reading a book as a pensum
to an exam, there will be no trail of titles
When I have gone.
I like flowers, but dislike flowery poems. I find them
artificial, as Gertrude Stein said,”
A rose is a rose.”
But of course, a rose signifies much more.
While not waiting for Godot, I will write some more lies
as long as I can.
Hello everyone! There is going to be a 2nd part to Entertainment real soon. Stay tuned! Thanks:)
Don’t be discouraged
Don’t be doubtful
Don’t be disheartened
Be happy, not mad
Be humble, not proud
Be quiet, not loud
Be merciful, not condemning
Be cheerful, not anxious
Be glad, not envious
Hello
Hello
I feel insecure
I see your halo
A cloud of a windy blow
I’m feeling brilliant
Can’t say I’m excellent
Perhaps, insignificant
I can’t even say a simple hello to my friends behind me
I’m just an outlandish, bittersweet introvert all over again
Spreading my mental wings of set-me-free
Be my grace…
Fading like your face…
Caught without a trace
Hello
How have you been?
I’ve seen the unseen
Oh wait…
I hesitate…
I can’t breathe…
I’m at ease…
My mind is a castle on a train
So high and so low…can’t refrain
From driving y’all insane…
All to numb the lucky pain
Inside me…
Inside you…
However, fear is far behind me
Hope and cheer is what I want and need
I need to nourish it like my itty-bitty seed
I feel like fainting a five hundred million miles from you
I feel like tainting your fingers with my blood of residue
I am a quiet cello in your sleep
I am that crippled fiend…A creep…
Only to find light on the other side of the sun…
I’m somewhat like an extrovert
Extending my mind’s flimsy, flowery frame
Pulling out envy's weed…what’s your name?
I hurt like an expert, wearing your blue shirt
Basically, my nightmare became a reality
Frankly, my eyes shower and my gaze is but a coward
Mind control got me in its web of lies…hardly…
Lately, my numb cranium is releasing dangerous defeat…I’m flying and soaring like a blue bird…
I’m an empty page…
Okay, I am enraged by being in this cage
Of my skin…of your distress…
Of your sin…you’re just trying to impress
Strangely, I feel old age creep on me –
Awkward
I can trust in my illuminating instincts
It’s misfortunate that I’m so nervous
I see wondrous winks and chinks
Extremely battered…
Nothing else matters…
Brain-scattered…
I hear silence and its purrs
Yeah, my bro…my wild bro
He is the only friend I’ll be hanging out with
For the rest of my life though
I always mix up reality and fantasy and myth
The landscapes I paint have a fence or two
Some with pegs stout and straight
Some with bars broken and bent
A fence between the grey gravelly pathway
And the flashy flowery garden swathe
Or between the rippling river and the verdant vale
Or between the swelling sea and the rocky ridge
Or between the dancing desert dunes and the smoky sky.
You ask me why?
I delve deep in my mind
And find me lost nondescript in the crowd of chaos
Searching for a definition and a space singular
Of my own.
The landscapes I paint have a section of shrouding sky
With creeping clumps of cloud
Some ivory and dry, floating high
Some ashy and moist, lying low
A solitary scrap of cloud clinging in the blue bowl
Isolated and shapeless
Or slumping formless and forlorn
Down the sloping hazy horizon
Or wrapping the in-situ indigo hills
And telling them how to fly.
You ask me why?
I delve deep in my mind
And find me fly with the flow of life alone
Searching for the meaning of living and a mooring zone
Of my own.
The landscapes I paint have tall trees
In the foreground fresco
Some young and green, erect and stout
Some old and brown, scaling and hollow
They bifurcate the boughs skyward to conceal
Other trees in the bleak background
Or in the leaves' shadows the stunted shrubs
Or shed the fawn foliage that covers the green grass
Or spread reticulate roots that grind the ground to dust dry.
You ask me why?
I delve deep in my mind
And find me desolate and discounted
Searching for a foothold and an identity
Of my own.
The familiar faces I paint have birthmark
On the right cheek
Some russet and sleek
Some grey and glossy
A mark sketched on the face as the blessing of birth
Or giving the ugly face a spot for beauty to breed
Or fashioning the fluid face to take the shape it seeks.
You ask me why?
I delve deep in my mind
And find me hidden in the birthmark on my face
Wanting to be seen and remembered
To have made a mark
Of my own.