Long Fountain Poems
Long Fountain Poems. Below are the most popular long Fountain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fountain poems by poem length and keyword.
There is nothing like a…fine…pen.
Carrying the visions of my soul across a naked page.
The magic wand for my muse;
it constructs the universes my muse creates.
A fine pen is a part of a writer’s soul
like plumbing for the mind,
it carries feelings, thoughts and emotions;
pours them out before my eyes as water pours from a fountain. my mind overflows and a beautiful
image is born for others to peruse.
A fine pen submits to my whims and will
to every thought, idea or dream.
A fine pen echoes my spirit’s cries
Its’ joys, sadness, elation, anger, rage, joy and love.
Because it’s a fine pen,
it bleeds when I bleed
cries when I cry
laughs when I laugh.
A fine pen is a godsend;
not one of those stiff and scratchy
skipping, dripping and blotting dime store sticks.
It is a feather on waves of colored ink
leaving behind ripples that, ride the winds with my spirit.
Through Chasms of Cliff
None tried to climb on Cliff
of rocky hill too steep.
The peak left abandoned.
Stones are stable unturned.
Coarse rough rigid rock.
All around stubborn block.
Gentle breeze blowed in gay.
Sun greeting with bright ray.
Feral glossy grasses
All wild in green masses.
Monotony knew no bound.
Silence perfect profound.
Solitude all around
Neither noise nor sound.
Melted heart of mountain.
Through Chasms oozed fountain.
Mountain now in pleasure
Got fountain as treasure.
01/25/22
C- Form Couplet
Contest by La Constance France
A wet crinkled brown leaf skimmed my face,
when absorbing the mild milieu ahead,
this peep of day random leisurely,
meander amidst the stunning wild life,
mirror to olympic onset of proud,
major town and its spirited clan,
in an inkling a cascade of hue tinged,
thoughts, reflections, insights, life questions,
swirled in a bright lustrous swathe profound,
inside this brain of mine attuned to spheres,
I commenced to ponder on matters,
meaningful, mystic, mind enhancing,
cheerful cyclist with heartfelt greeting,
jogger in deep breathe whose sudden halt,
despite his schedule to engage with,
me, this being they scarcely even knew,
fixed a slot for sound red ruby witness,
warm shepherd folk smile whilst their kin gaze at,
bees, butterflies, songbirds, cute insects,
children have this innate facial expression,
as adults do when reflecting quietly,
fountain sprinkle of hum and haw linger,
countryside in blue sky urban realm,
that sunshine ray to my blissful muse
I wandered past the overgrown gate,
Where the moss meets the ivy and whispers wait.
Past the rusted latch and the crumbling stone,
To a quiet corner I call my own.
Here the roses bloom in a velvet hush,
Painted in shades of twilight and blush.
Sunlight filters through emerald trees,
Releasing the scent of the evening breeze.
I knelt by the fountain, so still and deep,
Where the secrets of long-lost summers sleep.
And there in the silence, beneath the vine,
I unearthed a treasure that once was mine.
It wasn’t of silver, it wasn’t of gold,
But a beating warmth that the shadows hold.
A fragile pulse that the world had grown,
But here in the garden, my heart is my own.
Tucked away where the wild things grow,
Free from the rushing of all below.
I found my center, I found my start,
And bloomed once more in the secret heart.
Dear wedding rehearsal dinner
Sorry for not speaking sooner
We've been delayed by the bride
'Cause she's gone out for a ride
You know — who are we without her
A question I just can't answer
So let's drink our disappointment to sleep
Because the burden is not ours to keep
Dear wedding rehearsal dinner
It seems you are really getting slimmer
I fed you with so much plans
Including the salsa dance
Toasts and clinkering glasses
Recitals of flowery verses
You were meant to be a beautiful song
But you turned out worse than a teen prom
Dear wedding rehearsal dinner
My heart can't help but to miss her
She is all I have ever wanted
My metaphorical flowing fountain
She flows with life and elegance
Waves of sweetness and temperance
Smashing my cliff-hanging heart
With her I can't seem to doubt
Dear wedding rehearsal dinner
My light seems to be going dimmer
And with every ticking of her absence
I get struck by the whip of my conscience
A moment I have staged all by myself
I'm just a dusty book stacked on the shelf
Waiting and hoping to be flung into Sea
Because that is where my heart wants to be
Dear wedding rehearsal dinner
I'm sorry for being this boring dreamer
But I'd like you to know this
That I'll live on in one piece
And even though I ruined you for us
I would love and wait for her if I must
So send my apologies to our guests
I love them! They're the best...
In remembrance of that virtual dream,
clear impressions like a movie stream.
Time in different sphere filling impressions,
something of another mind expressions.
Living about in a world not realized,
the mortal nature by different image surprised.
Images of youth and its imaginary affection,
escaping into worlds of loving recollection.
Stimulant stories whatever they may,
fountain of enlighten picture for the day.
Dream weaver and master light of seeing,
treasure and miracle at moments of our being.
Dark silence and truth seeming awake,
impressions that shifts the willing to wake.
Facing by ridicule and wonder that endeavor,
knowing that the impossible is in your favor.
That enmity recognized as soul of joy,
no one can abolish or try to destroy.
Our souls have access to the immortal air,
living forces captured by innocent affair.
The dream through radiance once so bright,
gentle power that remains in bliss behind.
Primal sympathies and its soothing habitat,
volunteering heart to treasure that.
Intimate bliss in tender healing abound,
echoes from the immortal destiny ground.
If only you knew
How, like a wallflower, I have wished for you.
Too shy to lift my eyes to yours.
Your wrists. Your shoulder.
I lean on you to steady me,
Wobbling above,
I wish we were in love.
Maybe it's best that I stay away
But does she write you poems like this?
Sometimes you are just a name
and a time zone
And I wonder
Are you counting backwards
eight hours as I do forwards?
Expecting to see you
behind the wheel of every red car I see
but you are not the only person who drives a red car.
I wished for you
when I tossed my penny in the fountain
And I hummed your song on the train home.
You see the man upright there,
screaming, shouting, and convincing,
wrapping around a lie with another,
playing with people’s minds forever.
The man upright there has a power —
unnoticed, misused, and unmatched
by anyone else.
He call himself as lucky and deserving,
the best one for serving his country.
They rule as if they are God.
They plan as if they are Lord.
But they are nothing more than a fraud.
There wanting
are as big as mountain.
There evil thought
flow like a fountain.
Now you see the man upright there.
Copyright © 2026 by Sarah Rehman Mirza
All rights reserved.
Late one night walking in rain-hit New York,
Full moon kept watch as I measured my way,
shops shut, such silence unknown to city,
world in grip of scary virus menace,
my ears were pricked to every eerie sound,
They told me of the psycho cat’s demise,
encounter kill with predator unknown,
my stiletto shoes break peace with their clicks,
soft prattle of foot steps behind me like,
Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sand beach,
Slowly I turn to confront my stalkers,
million eyes glitter in darkness of street,
dark brown hairy, big street rats of New York,
gnarl fierce as perhaps gnarled at psycho cat,
they ripped enemy to end his tale!
I knew the danger that I was faced with,
I reached into leather bag for weapons,
with prayer and courage I could summon,
lit my lighter and filled my mouth with wine,
blew a fountain, sprayed them shouting you swine!!!!!!!
Screaming and spraying the burning spirit,
mean rascals ran like they confronted devil,
So I escaped from almost certain death
thanks to cheap drink I carried in my bag,
The label I hide on the wine bottle,
inflammable mixture not fit to drink!
Suddenly screaming I wake up in bed,
sobbing next to my dear concerned husband,
have had enough of dreary pandemic,
this mask, isolation and long late walks,
if away for few months all should be fine,
Sabbatical dreams after quarantine!
Written 8/October/2020
‘Collaborate with me poetry’ contest
Sponsor Kim Rodrigues
in bold lines Kim’s lines
10 syllables per line
(following on figurative heals
sans, l'amour,
i.e.,and that bastard conception
of life, liberty, and the
pursuit by George - Marshall ling, Grant
ting, and Bing Frank.)
Expectant motherhood generates aurorean
sonogram x-ray zooms
bringing developed fetus
healthily shimmering viz,
quasi hologram seen
glowing halo, inducing
jubilant kickstarter lil bean,
administering capitalone
earthlinked joyful lyft,
natural pheromone readying cerulean
tommorrows, venerated ecstacy doth gleam
zinging bounteous
dizzying feelings hormones houseclean
jackanapes leviathon nestling
pinterestinly interocean
reaching terminus vista
xing zee birth canal mien
doctor readies Fallopian tube cutting
helping jiggle little nymphean
possibly ranking...
as future topnotch venerated Olympian
fast forward to joyful loving neuro
logically plain resplendent teen
knee weeny tiny
vaunted expanding zing
baby dripping Vasoline
like goo fully gesticulating
happy jolly newborn.
Which miracle whipped
purely by chance
given reason to the most orthodox
to sing and dance,
sans said singular biological
phenomenon does enhance
freshly minted parents,
or the mommas
and papas genetic
copy wrought grants
who already passed along
to a brood of offspring
gushing with excitement
akin to fire hydrants
spewing forth fountain head
treasuring such Kodak moment,
cuz such instance
and subsequent tender
wonderful blessed
Instamatic reverent cherished instants
will zip at greased lightening
via speeding hurled lance
sing remembrance of things past
during twilight years,
an eye blink those yesterdays,
when my troubles seemed so far away
and upon being centenarian,
doddering fogie gripping hold,
hugging intensely, indubitably decrying
how quickly of
decades long ex pants
didst elapse, when tendering
to a coliciky, finicky,
inscrutably lemony snickety offspring
wishing infant would grow up already,
now onset of autonomy
Das Agean sea sunned
father or mother
hood doth rants
at father time, he doth access
without a word an excel lent
power point demonstration
with near vertical line brevity
of how mortality slants.