Long Gleans Poems
Long Gleans Poems. Below are the most popular long Gleans by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gleans poems by poem length and keyword.
Prismatic reflections, pulse kinetic,
tranquil calm, shifting to agitation,
our moods, melancholic or ecstatic,
range of painful to peaceful vibrations,
known to us during quiet reflection.
Pristine presence, in quietude serene,
each nuance of life flow, gently so gleans,
from fulcrum still, allowing bliss to fill
dark voids within form, the divine does clean,
as we are thus shaped, upon the anvil.
11-May-2021
Writing prompt - calm - poetry contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Employing the words - calm, tranquil, peaceful, still, quiet, serene
Exploring the Forest,
Uncovering insects,
Discovering cool things.
Streams trickling across the screen,
Beautiful sounds for the scene.
The birds chirping,
Wandering Fields of green,
A Garden goes unseen.
Once She was pristine,
Balanced and clean.
Then came a being,
Their Trash and Machines.
Acting Obscene, power hungry,
And just plain mean.
Destroying Everything,
Until nothing can sing.
Stomping on our Right to be,
Comfortable in our individuality.
Disrupting our chance to see,
Earth's truly unique beauty.
Her Part in Humanity,
Maintaining balance and unity.
Even if she had to raise the sea,
Like she did in our history.
We literally need her, to BE,
To Stay Alive, To Survive,
To Strive for humanity,
Live Respectfully,
Don't be a Lazy bee,
Stop.
Pick up the Litter you see,
Spread clean Energy.
Time to change The Mentality,
It's shared collectively,
Let it be all you see,
As we cultivate new seeds,
Examples of kindness, and good deeds,
pulling the weeds, fulfilling her needs.
Discover Our Garden,
It Gleans on being seen.
Driving to work on a spring day,
A masterpiece is painted with a tint of sun ray,
On the parkway, going fast
Colors from heaven I seem to pass,
Yellows and blues bring joy I cannot refuse,
Oranges and white, make my travels bright,
I can taste the beginning of the dawn,
Knowing there’s purpose for all that have been born,
Fire ignites while the world arises,
Preparing me for the days surprises,
Refreshed and awaken,
By the glory that I see,
Each layer of color
Whispers to me,
Senses are keen,
As the sky glistens and gleans,
Just another reminder that we were not made to be machines.
Driving home from work on a spring night,
Overwhelmed by an artist’s delight,
On the parkway, going fast
When suddenly my heart can barely grasp,
Colors from God that seem to consume,
Any trace of my day that brought me gloom,
Penetrating purples, pinks and reds,
Peirce my soul, as my eyes are fed,
If angels were finger painting,
The sky would be their canvas,
A gift from the divine to remind us of his bliss,
Cherry blossoms reflect the evening sky,
As the long day says its goodbyes,
The darkest blues of the deepest sea,
Gently remind me that I am free.
By: Sabina Nicole
A muse on the loose. Oh, where might she go?
Special moments in life that made my heart glow
she visits with sentimentality -
to gild cherished memories of family.
Through scenes of a novel or some picture show -
a muse on the loose. Oh, where might she go?
Moved by great drama or by tragedy,
she sprinkles a flavor of melancholy.
To mountains or flowered fields or to the sea,
she's ready to gather the majesty
of nature around her! From beaches to snow -
a muse on the loose. Oh, where might she go?
From daily events of simplicity
to things unexpected that happen to me,
she gleans inspiration, then the poems flow.
A muse on the loose. Oh, where might she go?
Written Sept.8, 2016 for the Contest of John Lawless:
Muse on the Loose
Eureka of Archimedes was part of his daydream,
Thomas Edison nurtured his dream in bright light like gleam;
Could sleep ever overwhelm Alexander Graham Bell,
Till he heard the noise from the other and fell in a spell...?
George Washington Carver, who found in peanuts and soybeans,
Utilizations, like treasures, hidden abundant gleans;
Eli Whitney's constant daydreams gave birth to cotton gin,
That separated seeds, hulls and wastes; hearts of all did win...!
Johannes Gutenberg’s innovative printing machine,
Or John Logie Baird's mechanical television sheen;
Benjamin Franklin's lightning rod and the iron furnace,
Or Henry Ford's ventures into automobile sternness...
No invention has found its sphere devoid of day-dreaming,
This should be coalescence of action-vision creaming;
Together with concentration-shift toward internals,
Should bring forth spiritually resonant externals...!
21 November 2022
Don't Quit Your Daydream Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
Balance of time slights the recurring vigil
Country's pride gleans the depleting residual
Annual tears water the artifices above manicured ground
Unextinguished pyre of tinseled youth still seethes 'neath clodded mound
The drum roll of spent days serenade each, muted mime
As ceremonial taps grant ingratiated minds trite stime
Into heroic feats rendered in soldiers' splintered prime
Human shadows hover in the solace of peace sublime
Sodden warriors' token sacrifice remains layered in lime
Sentient wreaths shroud shallower graves
Each, calcified bone now jading memory's slave
Stoic crosses reincarnate the souls of the fallen brave
Devoted progeny patriotic reserves from depleted fibers shave
Clutching at her notepad like stones of precious sapphires
She shuts her eyes in hopes of extinguishing raging fires
In her somnolence, thoughts through her mind float like fireflies
Whilst her pen gleans her teeming brain all else dies
Drowning in a nightmare a sleeping beauty with no hope to wake
He found her consumed in an old love’s Stonehenge of heartbreak
His aura ignited life’s fire within her exploding like dynamite
His love injected fortitude in her like the yellow sun, never kryptonite
She awakened from sleep in a Shakespeare midsummer’s night dream
Found herself on a cliff’s edge of metamorphosed stone regimes
Stone regimes’ holding like rich garners sapphire grains of hope and peace
With a watchful eye each stone transformed into a sapphire piece
She traded her Stonehenge of heartbreak for these sapphire glows
Thus hope and peace will forever abide in her like blood in a vein flows
Form:
Dawn paints lush landscapes and woodland scenes
shades of lavender and rose, blended with gold.
Nature reaps the credit for the things we behold ~
flowers in Spring and the wonders that life gleans,
but it's not her hand through which beauty unfolds.
There is only One capable to deliver such splendors,
those wonderful gifts bestowed by the Divine giver.
The morning sun and moonlight, He lovingly delivers
to fill the Earth with magnificent marvels, He renders ~
Mountains high, meadows green, and rambling rivers
He made me in His image so I gladly repay in kind
to help those in need of care. To them I will provide
a warm hand to hold while I sit at a sick one's bedside.
I offer empathy to those who have been maligned,
and carry a friend to safety when flows a flood tide.
The Bible says what we give will be returned tenfold,
but it's not for blessings that I continue to do His will.
God expects nothing in return from a blooming daffodil,
so to mirror His benevolence, I vow to never withhold
aiding others. Being a cheerful giver is a promise to fulfill.
September 26, 2020
Givers Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Winding path through the tawny wood
Hanging branches form a shadowy hood
Dangling vines each spindled fold lace
Slippery, svelte moss cloaks the base
The vented light peeps through fibrous trellis
Addled mind with beauty to encase
Swerving shadows creep down the swaying lattice
Each truncated step to efface
Fallen leaves weave a sprawling mat
Soft soles o'er silky fibers prat
Trodding o'er tender mushrooms, rendered scat
Listless feet trample each groove; probe each slat
Restless roots the rugged edges trace
The undergrowth crowds the shrinking space
Meandering route into sleepy hollow careens
Whittled bushes, saw grass the stillness gleans
Through the swaddled cradle padded soles calmly pace
The rhythmic lullaby of whistling wind heart doth embrace
Through stunted hollow into bracketed thicket
Spiny branches throw up a cumbersome picket
Each spiked shrub colludes to form a sticky wicket
Bristling, twining band is serenaded by singing cricket
Struggling through the gristly garden
My stinging heels bleed for reprieve, pardon
Just ahead, a carpeted, emerald meadow streams
My sodden feet dance into the velvety seams
Fall's bright colors are taking flight like birds on the wing
It's the right time for a clime change and seasonal transformation
brisk winds whisk leaves in plight and can no longer cling
Autumn sends a note that portends a change is in the air
Months of holidays and sublime door displays in celebration
of prime family feasts and Halloween beasts that surely scare
There are ripe fields to harvest with care and yields to measure
Nature conducts bright scenes as she gleans to write an orchestration
of Winter snows and light woolen clothes, a season to treasure