Long Frilled Poems
Long Frilled Poems. Below are the most popular long Frilled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frilled poems by poem length and keyword.
With the romantic spectrum of sunburst sky’s fire
I profile the radiant rendering of my blazing desire,
where our harmonious hearts are entwined,
sutured by the enticing threads of sublime fondness.
I couldn't release then your alluring hands,
for I felt my ebullient exhilaration fervently flicker,
flashing on your face like the luster of twilight,
I got flushed with the flare of craving delight.
You are gone where the destiny has taken you,
your shadow lingers on in my longing threshold.
I sense the enduring aura of your yearning,
like the argentine glow of the amorous moon.
The sky now shimmers with the last glorious gleam
of the waning moon at the edge of the indigo night,
that I can’t ever forget howsoever I may try,
for with stardust sequins I’ve adorned your shadow.
Its cascading cadence I perceive caress your face
with the turquoise touch of sensuous splendor,
I carry crimped in the pining pulsation of my heart
as the seraphic shadow of our togetherness.
I haven’t counted the steps we’ve walked side by side
on the sliding sands spread on the shore of time,
but the frilled footprints I feel facsimiled in my mind,
where I face the serene shadow of eternity.
As the untamed winds of desire drift away
the mystique mist of opaque obscurity,
the pearlescent streams of amorous sunshine surge
with the mesmeric momentum of fiery fervor.
It drapes your eyes with the tapestry of trance,
where I find in the azure firmament of yearning.
My fervent longing sparkles enthralled as a lonely star
in the gilded shadow of gold-lined cloud of passion.
My loneliness finds wings in the seamless sky,
flies in the beguiling breeze of reminiscence
toward the fading end of our twilight zone,
where I confront your shadows stilled in silence.
Lost like unused syllables in unrhyming words
petals of frilled sorrow drip to the earth from weeping trees,
crying each filigreed petal slowly, one by one,
in cascades of gentle tears to their tender rest,
shaping billowing beds of brightly colored pillows,
until soft breaths of evening breeze exhale long sighs
through longing limbs creating whirlwinds of smiling fragrance
in the fawning dance of each nectarous petal.
Like lover's swirling in life's last dying embrace,
reflections of cold loneliness slip past with each fallen bud.
Soon the flowers will be lost in winter's stark gray advance,
and the smooth bark of the Crepe Myrtle will lie dormant
yearning for the elongating warm caress of Spring,
and its delicate chiffon cloak of humbled innocence,
again hiding its discomfiting gnarled nakedness
behind silken vales of scintillating incandescence.
11/07/15
Night wrinkles on dim hangers;
bell-bottom pants
two-toned platform shoes
a wide `kipper' tie.
In a pocket
a crumpled Kodachrome -
hot pants and velvet neck-choker.
‘Who is she?’
This closet is a time machine
I exited decades ago.
Dreaming hands part a frilled dress shirt
from its sky-blue tuxedo.
A stripy tank-top.
dances badly to ‘Brown Sugar’
damn you Mike Jagger
you created a monster.
There’s a rum and coke stain
floating like a ghost
through fading threads.
Time, now exhausted,
falls back onto a pillow
the wardrobe trembles like a Tardis
then disappears
into its blue police box
where every garb ever worn
still fits.
Who are you?
I am a hairy hippy, I glitter,
and Jesus Christ is still a Super Star.
She’s a sexy girl who won’t let me sleep.
Wire hangers rattle in the dark
a metallic laughter.
Nerves jiggle restless legs.
(This verse is painted for my Loving Daughter P Suzanna Christy on her 8th birthday)
It was the day she began to move out,
She’d been in the cradle of her mother’s womb
Some seven years before silently in her dreams,
And her dreams! Who knows? But He knows.
Her mother, yea, yet to be a mother then!
Then in her travail, yet rejoicing in God’s Gift,
With her friend and neighbors close by she was wriggling.
Her father, yea, yet to be a father then!
Then in his journey, anxious, yet praying all the way,
None but the Father in Christ is beside him.
She reaches the eighth milestone of life,
How she hath reached is by His Mercy.
I remember the day of entry into the world,
She made a cry within and it was not heard unto us,
We could not know why she had cried within,
But we know for she had prayed within,
And now we’ve learnt that her first cry would be to Him.
Her mother’s friend took her in his arms,
And showered thousand kisses on her tiny forehead,
And it is he always the God-sent providence unto them.
Her mother rose from her anesthetic sleep,
And her every breath, it’s the fact, pronounced THANKS unto HIM.
She longed for her God’s Gift and took her in her arms of love.
I watched her imprinting kisses on the silky cheeks.
Every one wept and there were tears of joy,
I collected those tears in the deep of my heart.
She hath reached the eighth milestone of life:
She flutters as the dancing star in the sky,
Like the tiny trout in the running brook she plays,
Sweet like the ripe apple ‘midst the orchard,
‘cross the horizons of joy and laughter she traverses,
Dressed in the Blessings from Above,
She looks purple with floating frilled skirt,
She wears the smiles of her mother,
Filled with friendly wishes from her school mates,
She walks amidst the song of her little blooms.
I can’t hold her joy she experiences,
And so her mother shares it with her
And too with her for she hath carried my prayer in her womb.
She grows with the Heavenly Grace,
And does proclaim the Glory of Heaven in her life.
Now she’s a little plant to grow more flowers,
And every flower shall be the message of His Mercy
Onyx veined moon
peeps behind a frilled
crystal cut cloud adrift
black ink stoic sky
has its pallette
pleading for a
bristled brush
in the hands
of visionary
captivated by
a mystic miracle
that glowing orb
it neatly nestles
whilst weaving
wispy strands
of scattered
lunar beams
oe’r pliant
dark tree top
foliage swaying
to sharp breeze
scenic stimulus
an earnest art
grove gallery by
adjoining stream
in flow and trickle
stint akin to cue
for lambent
loiterer glum
so perplexed
yet inward
inkling as orbit
of the artisan
pen or paint
closet dabbler
whose inertia
frozen frigid
hidebound
hankers for
silken swoon
from that
celestial
of bodies
to spark
a latent fiery
gumption
bubbling
blandly
within each
arch after
hour budding
Rembrandt
In the twilight hour we are by the window,
open to the hues of the fading horizon,
and to the breeze of the departing day,
see the sky shimmer with the last glow
of the setting sun at the edge of night.
Its cascading torrent of flare floods your face,
flushing still with the touch of belonging,
we carried together this far in entwined hearts.
We haven’t counted the steps on the sands of time,
but the frilled footprints I see etched in mind,
yours beside mine, pacing all the way side by side,
where we are now in the serene shade of sated time.
Sparkling streams of amorous moonbeam
surge with azure momentum of ardent fervor
through the window we keep open to the sky,
spread mystique tapestry of trance on your eyes,
where I see a seamless sea form for me
to sail across the ebullient tides of time,
reach the distant shore suffused with your scent,
where my first red rose to you kissed your lilac lips,
and we made demure dreams of togetherness.
The dreams brought us to where we are now
in the lengthening shadow of lingering yearning.
August 21, 2020
Contest : Strand Completely New (25), Any Form Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
I remember you, from when there was a spring
When the seasons were ripe, with verdant green
Our nimble feet danced in the wind
and on the brink of everything
Not a furrow in the brow of youth
We borrowed life for just awhile
and tapped our shoes on childhood's stage
where carefree laughter was the rage
that filled each age with promised smiles
We danced and twirled a twin ballet
just you and me on summer's waves
Two pirouettes, in mode of curls
of blossoms, frilled, and tender leaves
unfurled in winds, we found a way
to soar our wings, above the world
We knew not yet
of death or dying
or of regret, or cause for crying
But, something frowned upon the season
You caught the wind, and without reason
A colder wind
that kept you flying
far beyond my eyes could see
And to the other side
you disappeared
beyond my words
beyond my tears
Now here alone
I touch the day
and taste the night
remembering
I will walk alone, in autumn sun
And lay myself on dying leaves
I think of you and think of then
I feel the wind against my face
that sweeps me to a distant place
where I recall what time erased
I'm closer now... to hear the sound
The whisper of the seasons calling
Above the trees, the sky is blue
I think of you, and feel the breeze
And all the while, the leaves must fall
9/2013
...................................................................................................
A dark blue midnight awning has its portrait,
etched by a a starlit silver lustrous galaxy,
silhouette of black lace frilled clouds,
in somber quietude adrift beneath a vibrant pearl,
amber moon whose gleaming radiance bemused awhile,
at the stark underbelly of flickering candles,
that the urban nocturne spellbound revel in perchance,
sleep pattern held captive by ethereal bliss,
angelic dreams wrapped in opal tincture,
what optic relishes await at early first light,
a colourfast dawn unveils it’s bronze bespoke banner,
heaven bound yellow flare insouciant whim,
red orange burst sky a stirring presage,
for wingspan flight of stone gray plume creature,
natural world usher whose gold throat cadence,
rouses wonderment among the persimmon trees,
tapping into human yearning for awestruck omen,
Kashmir bright velvet hue azimuth a scant gem,
yet sapphire orb twinkles close or distant lure
might embolden dull minds with ardent spark
The serene shade of serenading foliage
rippling in the cadence of the spring zephyr,
a translucent shroud of magnetic longing
filled the space of my collapsed emptiness, unfelt.
The bursting golden beams of the sunset blaze,
slicing through the shimmer of the ornate leaves,
carried to them your euphoric essence of silence
while time stood still with me, mesmerized.
The cascading flash of your effervescent smile,
caressed by the jasmine breeze of the twilight
flowed with the fragrant dusts of moonshine
of the ardent night on the silver canopy, charmed.
The desolate dawn rose from the empty horizon
where from behind the climbing clumps of clouds
the sun shed colors, rising from abyss of obscurity,
like your frilled footprints in my heart, engraved.
When in autumn with chromatic strands of hue
the fall weaves the tapestry of bronze on my meadow,
unfurled buds rustle with aroma of your redolent whisper,
you'll then return with the scented leaves to me, enticed.
November 14, 2019
Contest : Scented Leaves
Sponsor : Kim Rodrigues
December 19, 2019
Contest : Strand Special 5, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
Look at her fairy wings marked and checkered with dark veins
And the frilled edges of its wings spotted with polka white stains.
With every swing and every dive in the air, this marvel does amaze
With its mesmerizing dance, a wondrous sight inviting us to gaze.
The blue butterfly merges well with the azure sky as it ascends higher.
As a splash of cobalt, again it comes down, landing on another flower.
Its gentle spirit inspires us to soar high, fly and flutter on wings of joy
Though its life is short, with the wind under its wings, it is out to enjoy!