Long Goblet Poems
Long Goblet Poems. Below are the most popular long Goblet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Goblet poems by poem length and keyword.
Amberfest Ambiance
Ah, the orange-gold, I behold in things,
Such as the amber, in my wedding ring.
Invitation to a classic, zesty brunch.
Heart-pounding for this splendiferous lunch.
Let's begin shall we, with aromatic toast,
Slathered with orange jam and golden,
Hawaiin honey.(Tis the most)
Gratefully, we do have enough money,
To eat oudoors, and the Pacific Coast is a honey.
Oh, my eager taste buds start to roast!
Eggs Benedict with perfect golden orbs!
Having breakfast on the azure Pacific Shore.
How could I ask, for anything more?
The scent of fresh California orange juice,
In an amber goblet, ah, turn it loose!
This is my divine amberfest breakfast.
Divinity~full of color and golden pizazz!.
So very blessed and extraordinarily, first class!
1/27/2024
sometimes coffee in an Antigua cup
or red,
not often, tea,
loose or bagged.
does the string stop the drowning.
occasionally, dandelion,
bitter, mildly unpleasant;
such as a visit
to the deck, tidied,
vacuumed, except for a corner
kept with leaves
waiting for a spouse
to hurry up and finish up.
a three-way
confusion, static;
like a bus-hop,
it’s no party, not even
an old-fashion
party line.
not likely to listen
to reason, cutting
remarks, saturated
in control.
chocolate cream, distilled sips
in a cordial glass,
stem pinched by thumb
and pointing out tact.
sometimes wine, red
in a heaping purple goblet,
only a quarter full;
I’m no fool.
falling into the coolness
of rain, insane
how things change, shift,
stay strangely the same,
and out of order.
hey, while I listened,
a lingering trash bag
disappeared.
this is why
complaining is
for nought.
perhaps tomorrow
will wake up sunny,
and exhausted,
rumpled and relaxed.
a three way cheer
of tact,
bittersweet parched.
Drink your bitter tears
From a goblet of fire.
Transcend your longing
For resilient pearls
Exploding along your
Jaded Path.
Let wonder feed rhythm
Stirring your turbulence.
For if ever there were a
More encumbered stream,
Savor tomorrow.
I tremble from your
Thunderous voice.
Concave dreams hold me
No more.
For I'm restless. I can't pass through
An eye of a needle, but I hope to
Climb His stairway to heaven.
When fire rises from earthen
Vessels, my longing channels
Inner strength to feed my woes.
Bestowed upon my heart are
Remnants left by howling wolves.
They fester their cries to a moaning
Moon.
Dream away chantilly lace when
Cognizant seeds of sorrow envelope
Your tired soul.
I'm humbled by your untimely arrival.
For to renounce all frailties invites
Stoicism.
Shiver in mystic waters,
And walk towards enlightenment.
However lost your spirit becomes,
Always go with the Way.
There is no sunlight upon my face
When jagged knives cut through
Me.
For encumberment entails salty tears
Burning along sated flesh.
Where is my sunrise to welcome
Poignancy?
How can I belling you when
All has a price, but no value
To bend.
when elixir of moon drips wine
into the crystal goblet of magic
this late night beguiles my skin, reeling
on a Friday parade of lights;
my hips oh so beckon, swaggering to and fro...
impossible to deny this playgroud of fancy
of a soul flitting in. and out of supple thoughts
when my imagination dangles
on anklets of stars
as naked rhythm grows, my free will abides
to sip the juice of this wondrous ambrosia...
and goddess Isis wheels into the forest
with neon banners,
spinning dream--like fables in my heart
tingling flesh against trickles of time,
where seahorses ride on carousels
where ' a crimson sky breaks the distant shore'
and vivid thoughts spill like silver rain:
in a tower of daydreams or night walks,
visions are spun without question.
A pudgy-faced moon smiles up at you,
mirrored in her glass of burgundy.
And under ebony skies, you watch
as distant stars stir in her wine.
Within her goblet, galaxies swirl,
rushing to the fullness of her lips.
And you drink in this perfect moment;
sharing a bottle of summer wine.
Heady, from the grape's sweet ambrosia,
you savor the flavor of the night.
And love stretches beyond fantasy;
fulfilling dreams and expectations.
The wine stimulates all your senses,
with tantalizing bouquets and tastes.
And two lovers silently commune
with Nature, under the twinkling stars.
That amphibian skinned day
in time will soften to cotton
perhaps even a strand of silk
with love forever entwined.
The heart pond filled with nibbling ghouls.
In time will turn to whispers of silky soothe.
Dear just hold on for another moment.
Nothing can soil a heart forever.
Not even a cluster of thunder or village fool.
That angel mind, pecked by crimson crows.
Cawing that same worn song.
"Where did it all go...go...go......go"
Just hold on for yet another moment.
All the haunt and hurt will turn to blue bird mist.
Chirping "it never left you dear one.
It was there all along".
You never were really left alone".
Those horrible things coming from the mouth of fear
in time will turn to flowers on golden glade...
the honorable seed takes time to blossom
and never chain stem and petal
to the burning vase of mundane
That off taste in the goblet
will turn to something needed.
Something far beyond sweetened
Just hold onto the chain of hopeful moments
for infinity if need be.
Then my heart with pleasure fills and dances with the daffodils.
—-William Wordsworth
DILLY-DILLY DAFFODILS
Dilly-dilly daffodils in a lady’s tress,
Sailing as she throws off distress.
Blithesome in shades of yellow and blue,
The yellow-buttercups a felicitous crew.
Dancing fair maiden-esprit, free
Of worry, no anxiety, Swinging gloriously —
A merry-go-round, dizzying sashay.
O how these pretty ladies brighten the day.
Dilly-dilly daffodils splashing everywhere,
Xanthous snow-shower of motherly care.
Warms the rainbow of hearts, rocks
Deep-dark dungeon despair into goldy-locks.
Slays the Winter dragon, breath-stifling depress.
Parades open-air confidence and playfulness.
Dilly-O-Delightful daffodils trumpet applaud,
bowing and curtsying — a faerie squad.
Dandelions look on with jealousy, turn white,
blow far, far away, leaving a lantern-light
of palace gardens, star chandeliers, riverdale,
green goblet-meadows, a sunshiny-fairytale.
3/12/2021
*For Caren Krutsinger*
KISS THE SON
before the fact broken bread
and a goblet of wine
his body and blood
shared
Peter drinks and embraces
to his heart
the Carpenter’s vessel
The youth whom Jesus loves
leans upon His Lord’s breast
Pretense of the betrayer
no bread or wine touch his lips
silver coins spill and clink
thirty chimes
the last supper tries mens’ hearts
delivered to the cold cruel world
the Word resounds louder and louder
the mocking crowds still
clatter
THEY KNOW HIS NAME!
THEY KNOW HIS NAME!
the bitter pill of insanity
clings
to our generation
they want to erase
all of humanity
all that God has set forth
the kindling of men
the innocent
whom our Savior said
“Suffer them not to come unto me
for such is the Kingdom of God”
our embrace, the haste of
the haters to hate
all that God creates
but the Lord laughs, scoffs, rebukes,
terrifies them in His wrath
God tells the kings
be wise
be warned
serve the Lord
with fear
rejoice with trembling
kiss the Son
lest He be angry
BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO TAKE REFUGE IN HIM!
1/29/2019
NIV version scripture from New Testament and Psalm 2
I Knew
David J Walker
I
I knew a priest
Who blessed the best and
worst of us
Saying
Go in Peace
But leave your burdens here
II
I knew a man who bore
His chest
And cursed the heavy verse
That tore his breast
And left him overcome
With fear
III
I knew the sound of
Distant thunder
And feigned the smell
Of distant rain
In dry wonder
And long-deserted days
IV
I knew the phrase of
Remittance
The key to every golden door
And who so swore would
Join the banquet
And thirst no more for
Wine from the golden goblet
V
I knew a woman who
Foretold the fortunes
Of worried patrons
Who burned their aprons
And locked their doors
Vowing this time no more
VI
I knew the tales of
Reconciliation
Leaving the burdens
On the steps for the
Priests to sweep away
In the mornings after
VII
I knew life when
The sun was burning
Hot
In the midst of a
Lush garden
Like waves soft brushing a gentle incline of beach
distilled nectars, released, sweep;
drop by drop the precious oil soothes,
aromatherapy for a weary mind.
You smile at me from glassed frames,
my passing reflection layered on your forms,
infant images of coaxed first smiles;
within my aging body, the mirror of my womb -
memory’s natal nursery -
holds soft folded impressions of your true first smiles, first tears.
Before the world could see, I held these memories.
I drink this purest vintage
from the fragile goblet of my mind,
recalling my friend whose children were stolen,
taken away from her memory by Alzheimer’s.
© September 15, 2015