Long Glooms Poems
Long Glooms Poems. Below are the most popular long Glooms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Glooms poems by poem length and keyword.
Where I do not exist there is emptiness,
a world with no little girl gathering blooms;
no child born a poet full of awareness,
no dark poems about cemetery tombs.
Not a word written of life and all my glooms,
oh, terrible to think of no consciousness;
and no young woman who painted and hummed tunes.
Oh, what of my mom and dad and my grandma;
no forest walks holding hands with my grandpa !
My true essence floats in an infinite space,
long lush hair floating like a torn tangled dream;
I would have no soft skin, rosy cheeks, pale face,
no husband who had eyes like emerald green.
no verdant views, vaulted trees, vivid sky, place,
floating in a void of clouds I think ... I scream.
On the tomb no baby name engraved in stone;
for my baby boy was never born I moan !
Hummingbirds hover in my hollow chasm,
even a speck in void I can find beauty
oh, a world with no me is hard to fathom,
no complicated, poet often moody.
No writing with imagery and phantasm,
oh my gosh I would never be on soupy.
I ponder existence with no poetry;
no fantasy story, no sweet poesy !
tittering among the hollyhock blooms
two elfin men both named Mack
just seeing them chased away my glooms
I knew they always had my back
two elfin men both named Mack
my flowers sparkling fresh and pretty
I knew they always had my back
the joy they gave me kept me witty
my flowers sparkling fresh and pretty
my garden developed quite a lovely name
the joy they gave me kept me witty
visitors came, flowers their clear aim
my garden developed quite a lovely name
the roses, tulips, bleeding hearts and daffodils
visitors came, flowers their clear aim
the love they exuded gave me chills
the roses, tulips, bleeding hearts and daffodils
just seeing them chased away my glooms
the love they exuded gave me chills
tittering among the hollyhock blooms
Reflected gentle in the skies,
Moon and stars, strolling serenely
Laughing winds in shadow implies
Quiet dreams dancing pristinely
Listening for the chance to rouse
Phantastic that might prove keenly
Hidden away like the still mouse
Quiet dreams dancing pristinely
Dusk falls light against the spirit
Mounting dreads, seldom obscenely
Mighty moods, the heart can hear it
Quiet dreams dancing pristinely
Even the night cannot explain away
Hence, feelings dark, not so meanly
Nocturnal dread, filled with dismay
Quiet dreams dancing pristinely
Fanciful twilight falls softly
Echoing musings quite sheenly
Beguiling glooms, quite awfully
Quiet dreams dancing pristinely
There will be
There will be
Oh yes, there will be
there will be
there will be days like that;
better receive it yet,,,
don't be endowed as a follower, be a leader;
there will be days like that;
when you won't need this nor that;
open your eyes, look to the skies, raise your hands toward heaven;
God has a place for you;
and a plan He has too;
and there will be days like a blazing, burning hell;
But God my Father will cool and comfort you;
while He's telling you;
You are His child and He won't leave you in the corner scared;
There will be;
There will be;
Oh yes, there will be;
and He will see;
to it that you will be;
There will be days like this;
There will be days like this;
oh, my, my, my what about the nights;
Some days I feel like I'm under;
instead of being over, I'm covered;
by glooms and despair, it's everywhere;
so don't just stop and quit;
I know that I am heaven blessed;
I know that I am heaven sent;
this I speak it, I insist;
ahh ahh ah aha ha...
There will be days like this, there will be days like this;
there will be days like this, there will be days like this;
there will be days like this;
there will be days like this;
there will be days like no other yes! even better and blissed;
there will be days;
there will be days;
in all of thy ways acknowledge Him;
give Him praise in all your ways;
give Him praise no matter how good or bad your days are;
for there will be
for there shall be;
it will be good and bad, happy sad;
There will be days like this;
There will be days like that;
what's under your hat, but thought process...
there will be...
there shall be...
it's within man's greed, to be, to need;
and I end this in a prayer;
I pray that all matter, matters;
for there shall be good days and sometimes bad;
my advice is to you;
stop doing what you do (all that's negatives)
stop moaning start rejoicing;
stop signing and demining;
raise up your arms, hands and voices;
try this and other more positive choices;
close your eyes and reach to the skies and pray;
for this is a better way;
just because there's....
There will be days like this!!!
Clusters of grapes hanging by vines
Wonderous delights make fine wines
Cultivating a sense of fragile esteem
Coloring the moment a heavenly scheme
~
Paths of gorgeous greenery discovered
Welcoming scenes that were smothered
By fern, pine and laurel; emerald galore
Beauties hidden like never seen before
~
Gardens of pink, red and gold flowers
Sometimes hidden beneath the showers
Blaze bright in the dewy dawn’s sunlight
Heaven’s whisper sending down birthright
~
Captivating hedges and rows of vivid blooms
Clusters of miracles threatening the glooms
Forever rising against the most brutal forces
Even giving life to the dance of pretty orchids
~
Roses reason with the calming summer breeze
Overjoyed that there is no worry of a freeze
Sensations sending angel’s whispering music
To all those who tenderly feed their musing
~
All the glories of God’s captivating planet
From the luscious orange to the pomegranate
There are blessings beyond what we deserve
Filling our hearts with gentle caresses to preserve
~
Wherever I go, whatever I do, there are miracles
We live in a land that is so alive it seems biblical
The Master artist planned all this for our enjoyment
We must always thank Him for such entertainment
Rural doctors
In quiet towns where roads are few,
Where fields stretch wide and skies are blue,
There walk the healers, brave and true,
The doctors of the rural view.
With bags in hand and hearts of gold,
Through rain and shine, through heat and cold,
They journey far where need is great,
To serve the towns that time forgot.
In simple clinics, makeshift rooms,
They fight disease, dispel the glooms,
With limited, yet mighty, tools,
They stand as pillars, patient schools.
Their knowledge vast, their skills refined,
In every touch, in every mind,
They bring a hope, a healing light,
To places often out of sight.
For every life they gently save,
In every soul they make more brave,
They build a bridge, they pave a way,
For better health with each new day.
In fields where whispers of the past,
Meet modern care that’s built to last,
These rural doctors, strong and kind,
Are heroes in the humblest find.
So let us sing their noble deeds,
Their tireless work to meet our needs,
In rural lands, they stand and serve,
With endless heart and steadfast nerve.
Written Sept 1, 2024
© Dr Upma A. Sharma
I found this little book
inside my heart, much
to my surprise – in a place
secure, for faithful, searching
eyes...apparently having long
been there – a safe-space of refuge,
free from sighs – an inner garden:
no perennial blooms, that perk and
rest, as sunlight and moons lift our
spirits like April Blooms, till
the winter's chills, though a
tolerable season of icy glooms –
some, of our specie
more inclined to adjust and
make best – put on skis, and
flip with fond zest...not willing
to succumb to our earth's seeming
recurring duress –
A place one finds nurture
and spiritual delight – free from
daily cares replete with despairs;
where the book came from –
God alone knows, and perhaps
none of my affairs; yet, filling me
with a sense, it was mine
to someday find – and then,
read to others, a blessed mission
to truthfully boast and share; I opened
it up...and low and behold,
sealed on the first page, was a
heart of gleaming gold. Solid gold,
seeming shiny and new.
Of course, I already knew, that
gold never tarnishes, just
the metals with which it is
mixed – and who would have
thought, on a book's first page
one would find, such a precious
thing affixed – a book of hope –
a book for all life? I pondered
thus refining even more – how
tarnishing mixtures gold needed
if to strengthen into shapes,
precious forms that endure – I thought of
my world, and my metals of strife –
thought of all my blemishes...those
I've spent seeming an eternity
from myself and others trying to hide...
and thought, maybe, I should have, all along,
not cursed them but blessed them – perhaps,
treasuring my obvious imperfections, as well
as my golden side.
I do bitterly fault your restless digits, slatternly time;
Your agile dial's design I defy with mutinous rhyme.
What's the veiled intent of your lightning procession,
Against this snail-mover's beleaguered progression?
In swearing truth say why your sight-eclipsing wings
Party and feast and conjure merry over littler beings.
What sadistic banquets in spooky nooks yonder,
Turn your lot-dwindling schemes ever so fonder?
It's true your snaring turns I strongly loathe,
With damning sneers and deserving derision.
What's that blot against heaven's sternest troth,
Obliterating dancing suns on her creasing face?
To what main gain do your life-slicing edges fly,
Usurping innocent freedoms of humble breath?
Your mulish cruises along snaky course-ways,
Flare spite-perfected ills to slay slowing health.
With daring tropes I’ll yet trim hours’ blacking crime,
And I’ll chide the deadly glooms of carnivorous time.
May, queen of blossoms, and fulfilling flowers, what pretty music shall we charm the hours?" - Lord Edward Thurlow
************************************************************************************************************
May, queen of blossoms, month of flower blooms
With medley of hues and scents dispel glooms
Sweet entwining between spring of rebirth
And looming season of manhood on earth
When the world awakens in vibrant green
When gentle warmth creates a joyous scene
When robins sing their lovely songs on trees
And the cheeks are caressed by gentle breeze
I chant your glory with quills of my pen
For showering hope and joy on all men.
I hear cheering chimes pealing far,
Beyond travails' veneers which blur
Tomorrow's rainbow scenes' glare;
Robing in glooms fine seasons fair.
Which wise to thank knows not I
As gold-dew greets from the sky,
Ushering in fresh starts on slates
Of pristine lot after fiercest fates.
Ahead still skulk facades dull,
Portending night's faking pains;
Posing askew out of envies null,
Shrouding rays on morn's plains.
Yet what eyes of flesh mayn't espy,
See ones within of crystalline light;
Untwisting stars cast in dims to die;
Shaming jets that soot ivories white.
And whilst at last loom shiny sights
Of respite hour's rarest viands' bites,
I'll hugest vollies of unmetered joys
Lilt past all ears and cherubs' voice.