Long Fuchsia Poems
Long Fuchsia Poems. Below are the most popular long Fuchsia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fuchsia poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: May 21, 2024, For Edward Ibeh Contest
“If you look closely you can see that they are all interconnected, symbolic of a never-ending circle in which it is simply impossible for the dog to catch the rabbit.” — Kit Williams
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Witness divine—glorious wonders for mankind.
Magnificent sky with swirling clouds that hide.
Sunbeams brilliantly—brightening the earth.
Moon warms the farmland for a night's worth.
Witness the power of the jewels' harmless light.
Satin fuchsia flower buds sparkle at first sight.
From pristine spot—amethyst wishes may sprout.
I wish to acquire beyond halcyon hues of stout.
In symphony, raindrops adorn and stifle the land.
Winter flakes coat the land and expand.
Nature's lyrics are in varied and tidy dimensions.
Calm woods, singing brooks, swift river distention.
Cherish dear pets, nature, birds, and seafood.
God's riches are bestowed nearby and cooed.
This life is knit with family, love, zeal, and friends.
We suffer agony and adore food, but not fiends.
With a sight of ethereal happiness.
look deeply and faithfully with sappiness.
To prevent overlooking anything crucial.
Reached elixir peaks—won a prize celestial.
Look through a veil of belief, full of hope.
A peek at divine glow and limitless scope.
It's awe-inspiring getting close to nightfall.
Strive for success—and never let yourself fall.
Look at the rain cloud—raindrops might fall.
But beyond, light radiates out from its crawl.
Witness the butterfly—which is truly rare.
Bear note of its progress as it climbed in the air.
In Stygian hues, we sank over brink of death.
A supple poise, a tale of dichotomy, an eerie lethe.
It is a timeless being—never altering itself in light.
Disease, warfare, belief, and culture sham sight.
Behold a charming face adorned with a smile.
Then delve inwardly—descry heart beguile.
It is akin to a dawn breaking on the horizon.
Time is never idle for anyone, wax or wizen.
Rising costs and overworked staff members.
Stretch your horizons—discover raw tempers.
Judges' words rang out in a split legal system: "Jail!"
Marvel at ethereal entities veiled by mortal trails.
Blest with garments of varied hues and shades’ assortment
I practice an organized monthly color-scheme adornment…
January is greeted with vibrant green’s life-oozing zest
along moss, emerald and mint scarfs’ accenting best.
With blue motif of azure or cerulean in February
cyan-printed dresses match aquamarine-look accessory.
Pink for March as well as old rose and fuchsia of no doubt
makes watermelon lace with pomelo ribbon stand out.
April shimmers in yellow, gold and sunshine glow
showing skirts of mustard, canary with lemon flow.
May has cream and beige for modest apparel bliss
as blouses are pleased with flax and vanilla emphasis.
June delights in violet midst lavender and lilac beauty
allowing use of purple and magenta bags, surely pretty.
Cheering July onlookers are different black-speckled masks
parading shoes, leather or so-called ebony in mobile tasks.
This August* presents belts of bronze, cinnamon and brown
while wearing coffee or chocolate shawl without frown.
Orange awaits September with tangerine or amber trends
preparing handkerchiefs of carrot, squash and yam blends.
For October that highlights charcoal, ash, and gray
ready to be added is silver to my faith-anchored fashion-array.
November features raiment** that’s white or off-white
together with pearl, ivory and cotton polka dots on sight.
In December is red, alongside scarlet or maroon’s joyousness
with crimson and ruby attire, thanking God for His bountifulness.
*Next year will be another color-schedule.
**Revelation 3:5 He that overcometh, the same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father, and before his angels.
August 21, 2021
7th place, "Kaleidoscope" Poetry Writing Premier Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 8/23/2021.
I sat in my yard, revering to the sublime splendor.
A Setting sun lighted wheat fields with a gold fender.
The universe is a celestial art by a creator in the sky,
Waves of fuchsia purple swept over the vast bay.
A vast sense of relief overwhelmed the crowd,
Our balance is being reset by an enigmatic cloud.
On a club seat with a friend-calling stranger,
My plans are drying out, and he rules my future.
Engage in conversation with an utter stranger,
On a bus, train, or airplane, there is no danger.
Do not fear woodpeckers; you're a snug man,
There is a chance that this connection won't span.
Stranger, your smile brightens the world.
Stranger! Can we sustain an eternal odd horde?
Stranger, let's smoke, drink coffee, and talk.
Relationship talk may sneak into silicone caulk.
Lightness after pain bestows short-term happiness,
The agony of aliens sparks elation and craftiness.
When wooing a scumbag, truancy may be attractive,
Where howls prevailed, calm gropes were inductive.
But not everyone I described was abrasive,
People greet, faces saying farewell, prate to give.
No words upright a graceful aura, no weakness,
Laying our sins at God's feet, exulting in meekness.
A stranger might canalize me into his world,
My own is ponderous, but I've done nothing absurd.
Since when I'm with you, I would sure cut loose,
With you, I flee in a sustained way that I can seduce.
My anxious thoughts rip through my wrecked heart,
A genuine man, riven and split into red and blue charts.
I will be a stranger as I wade down the dreary street,
A stranger is resting on concrete, seeking an exit.
Written: September 23, 2022
The fuchsia ribbon
through her hair ...
more than spangle,
bound tight around
her tenacious heart,
the shining symbol
of sinews sacrificed,
precious flesh ruined,
moments with family
given to contention.
She removed it ...
tenderly secured her
little one's ponytail,
her tears christening
a transcendent hope.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Brian's Select 4, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Ribbon" Free Verse Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.
"You're here," he whispered from shadows
My fragrance consorted before me
Heady scent of musk-infused blooms
Intoxicating allure, lustfully impure
On the bed was an opened poetry book,
across it pages, a perfect red rose
Dark crimson, like the blood within me flows
heated by need and the greed in his eyes
There burned the wildfires of desire
flames fanned as I moved nearer
They reflected soft glimmers
of the pearlized moon
She, a naughty voyeur, peering in the night
Through an open window she watched
the rhythm of swaying shadows at play
Seductive smile on my vermilion lips
in a chamber painted amber by candlelight
No need of their scintillation to see
His touch was all I needed
to guide me in flights of ecstacy
as hands pleaded in sensual strokes
Diamonds danced across a sapphire sky
He breathed erotic sensations on my nape
and slid a strap of the gown down my shoulder
The pulse of his heart beat against my hand
my other caressed the ruff at his temple
Fuchsia fluttered on the trellised window
Their aroma faded as I inhaled his balm
We tasted love and savored passion
Now sated and replete in a moment of calm
Soft breezes swirled across warm silk sheets
My hand trembled as I reached for him
Wildfires reignited in his emerald eyes
"The night is still young and the moon is asleep,"
I whispered. My intent was not disguised
~ 9/22/17 ~
The Poet's Fire
Hosted by: Greg Barden
Red kiss has me pleasantly troubled
Emerald excited it’s the biggest thrill
My pulse has hightened its doubled
My brain can’t name how I fuchsia feel
I know we are like chocolate strangers
Two passing ships crashing lips as sails
No care for the obvious deadly dangers
Intoxicated by pheromones and smells
I try not to be too flirty or too wordy
But I’m failing at that very teal task
My hands seem to dance in a hurry
To touch to explore maybe too fast
What a sweet chemistry we share
It’s wild like a strong blue breeze
I look forward to a hot love affair
Holding hands the romance I need
Written: May 11, 2025, for contest by: Sara Jama
Quote: “Let the beauty of what you love be what you do. Sorrow prepares you for joy." By Rumi
********************
Sky unveils a deep, katabatic chasm
Fuchsia flames ignite blooms, slicing in layers of strife
Brilliant yantras reside in our mental spaces
As we boldly paint our stories upon chattered hearts
Harboring emotional shrapnel and sorrows.
A memory prison beckons us to descry
Heart-hyacinths, mysterious luna
As sapphire armor shields my spirit,
While magnolias, mist—bereft of magic, wafts rot in time.
I no longer wish to conform to the lamenters
I feel like a ghost playing pranks after being imprisoned
Surrounded by shameful shards and a gloomy silence
Soft sighs leave emotional marks on the skin
As I grieve and descend into the abyss.
Hope hatches a hopeful heart while malaise mourns
Struggle and bloom quarrel in my heart's heavy cloak
A kismet-woven quilt groans as it falls in harsh brooks
Wicked words scatter like venom in a broken glass.
Vehement rants veiled in vivid visions of the soul
Everything hurts, and shrapnel pierces my core
In a heated chaos, whispers sprout Kenospia kernels
In cosmic calls, I gain wild, wielding a quill to sever ties.
How can love bear pain or looming ruin to serve solace?
Heat fuels molten bronze as heaven whims.
Painful pillars tugged at my chest, luring my torn spirit
Lost lifesaving light wanes as lethal rise dims into the chasm.
Little hurts cross defects, sparks ignite a vast blaze
Torn souls find a stern shelter, and an icy stream kills chaos.
Shame glistens in the moonlight, and stampeded disease stings.
Written: February 19, 2024
_____________________________________
Loving with a lucent locus is Lissom,
mooring a mystic's sibylline moves
as Felicity finds me, I float forward,
fusing both fantasies' fused yaws,
a rendezvous with time
rejecting zigzag of a jigsaw mind
love acts as a "kinematic" spark
your pulse kept me vibrant
a wave of love washed over us
yet, venom was tossed onto me
without my love, you won't survive
I am an artist shaping your fate,
our bedtime talks are ethereal.
Your loving bird of paradise
flies from earth to sky.
fuchsia fragranced feathers.
beauteous bliss, priss-phobic parody
enhances mental sensuality.
rain sings a warm tune tonight.
I'm trapped by my heartbeat calm.
I find serene places akin to cascades.
lowering my long-standing anxiety.
I unleash angels' shadows.
who redeems me from deceit?
Fulfilled fears, ritualistic romance,
split subtlety spreads semantics
true, clear steps to achievement
love: related to "pretend" and "extend"
means can indicate a cease
where symptoms swirl
honest answers might seem harsh
watch a wild waltz; wind is winsome,
reconsider before choosing
the dynamic nature of love
is subject to a sporadic storm.
Her heart longs for a reunion,
Ignore grayness of twilight
drifting in scented love letters
crafted on the smooth seashore
stored in translucent glass vessels,
featuring ageless verses
the jars shall traverse estuaries,
that brought her to his hallowed Isle
dotted with perennial blooms
gemmed shells evoke tropical muses,
tomorrow, she'll be by his side,
held by harmless sun-kissed kalon
I sense your silky swell serenading me,
fleeringly, with feeling
your imagination has created me
a vivid version of amethyst and deep sapphire,
voicing in verse, vibrant verve unfetter me
Your intriguing muse has a bright spirit.
amid muck and mire of a storm swamp
~ shadows dance below chartreuse skies
mirrors labyrinth stifles our souls quest;
holding reflections of lovelorn dreams,
maxims and myths that fall may wreck hearts
...and hope blooms as a fuchsia rose under rain;
where valiant words weave in the wind
~ skirmishing to stave off light catharsis,
a guiding star illuminates raw pathways;
In the mirror, viewing my dilemma and Hades,
from a mysterious bane to sangria songs
~ In the wilderness of mirrors, wander lost;
tales were spoken through wisteria vines
~ my soul is Persephoned and torn by dusk
breathless amid an etching saffron storm;
a melancholy flavor of kyanite and embers,
whispering waves shrouded in nostalgia
...as time breaks down at my lachrymal leaf;
creating jagged, exquisite tracks
~these veins carry love's delicious poison
memory cascades over empyrean inferno;
mirrorless miracles always have a synonym —
~scented with forgiveness by Nirvana Sailors . . .
Deep within my hidden pastel dreams
are soft sweet colors of a newborn spring
dressed up in mauves and pinks and windham creams
while giving hope to love and all it brings.
Painted in the colors of the dawn,
like pinks and purples of the morning sky,
magenta dreams will bloom and love will spawn
as newly mated hearts begin to fly.
And thus our lilac love has taken flight
while sharing orchid thoughts without remiss;
soft words and fuchsia touches in the night
are punctuated with a crimson kiss.
The coral sun rays beaming from above
are raining down these colors of our love.
October 23,2024
Poem of the Day - October 24, 2024