Long Goodwill Poems
Long Goodwill Poems. Below are the most popular long Goodwill by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Goodwill poems by poem length and keyword.
Note a deep fill that ever grows;
Urge that grandeur that floods goodwill;
Rouse a fond thrill that heals all blows;
Touch a splendour that surely heals.
Use bold magic that seems cryptic;
Rise above pain where anger flies;
Enter mystic beyond tragic;
Unwrap love plain that never dies.
Niche a love fond that grows and grows;
Charm the forlorn with grace that calms;
Opt for sure bond and trace wise glow;
Now love adorns kind face with balm.
Dye love steady and colour fast;
Indulge true health in form and fest;
Truth stands ready to purge the past;
Intent funds wealth in wit and jest.
Observe the hurts and pains that come;
Nurture the heart as soul lives grace;
Allow harsh dirt in bitter sums;
Listen and start to live love's face.
Light fills the way if you must know;
Offer to be a glimpse of hope;
Value each day to bridge pain's lows;
Express and see true love that scopes.
Heed the warning as pain can slay;
Embrace the truth when evil strikes;
Reach deep within to find love's way;
Etch a sure proof that bears all dykes.
Live love without conditions here;
Obtain that surge that seeds pure good;
Use peace to shout with calming cheer;
Do serve that urge to love not brood.
Leon Enriquez
17 March 2015
Singapore
You could run an eternity through shadows,
Run an era in dim labyrinths,
Time might hide you in its palm.
But sooner or later, you will meet the Judge,
Sooner or later, the Divine will find you in descent.
Go and tell the long-path liar,
Bring the news to the rider who revives at midnight,
Speak to the wanderer, the lover of chance, the one who whispers venom,
Tell them the Cutter of fates will end their journey,
Tell them the Supreme Silence will stifle their word.
Well, with goodwill, I share this stellar news,
My head has been sprinkled with the dew of the night sky,
I've crouched down in prayer,
Conversing with the Man from silvery Galilee.
He spoke to me with a voice that sweetly translated eternity,
I believed I heard the orderly step of angels,
He pronounced my name, and my heart stopped in anticipation,
When He said, "Take My path and do what the fates demand!"
Go and unravel the one with the forked tongue,
Carry the news across the starry field to the rider who roams at night,
Demolish the story of the one who walks restlessly,
Tell them the heavenly harvest prepares their fall,
Tell them their time of reckoning will come, under God's wing.
You could flee through countless times and ages,
Get lost in your flight through salted centuries,
No abyss could save you in an endless time.
Sooner or later, we all will align with the Law,
Sooner or later, we will pass before Him.
You can throw the stone and hide your hand,
Work in the darkness of the night against your fellow like a phantom,
But as surely as night unravels at dawn,
All that wanders in dark obscurity will soon come to light.
You can plunge into long races and cling to a shadow,
You can thrash through galaxies and build yourself in silence.
But sooner or later, Someone will tally your days,
Sooner or later, the Great Light will cut your flight short.
Bring this remedy to the one who serves lies,
Bring the word to the rider who roams and undermines at midnight,
Narrate the truth to the one who sees only play in luck,
Tell them the Weaver of Fate has counted their moments,
Tell them the Keeper of Balance will bring them silence.
Line of inquiry:
“Of the fact we are alive, we are sure
All else scriptures say, may or may not be
So presence vibrant, heart pure and demure
As formless awareness we become free”
Seeping like spilled golden honey smothering the horizon,
As age old marshmallow clouds surrender to flames and wizen.
The molten ball of fire, sinks slowly, descending into the waiting sea.
A lone bird in flight streaks across the scene in delight of being free.
Ebony shadows across the sun drenched sky, signify the end of day.
Moonbeams will embrace the darkened sky as night steps in to play.
Distant stars begin to glow with lustrous lights crystalized in space.
Captivating worship as myriads of prayers fleet to His Heavenly Grace.
A joyous peace engulfs our tiny earth, as goodwill flows over the land.
All affray ceases, those who fought see their weapons melt into the sand.
A serene calm envelops each child, woman and man, eradicating fear.
Enemies become friends, and every heart is filled with abundant cheer.
Love and laughter and peace ever after when peace resumes her sway.
Famine, disease, cruelty or greed, all issues of the past no longer to display.
Families reunite, thoughts of war eventually fade, His word will be obeyed.
Night’s resplendent curtain withdrawn to show the new day He has made.
,
Awareness with a contrite tone, that we are alive and with faith we believe.
The Lord will deliver us, when disenchantment and dishonesty seek to deceive,
for His expectations of the way we are, as the people He wishes us to be.
We are His children, created in His image and obeying His word sets us free.
I live in a "Mean Peoplez Zone"
soou
leave me alone: I'll introduce
to you to my dad Miezzer.
So stringy is he
and I'll let you see: he's
so
cheap he waits for clothes to go
on sale at goodwill. he told a story
of aman who used a elk, deer and
moose to stem cell meat for cheep.
They only asked me was it gamey
he said. " Nah: Nah, the fella spoke
real quality meat!
Now course you gotta put alotta
garlic onions
and horseradish and stuff
on it not to taste the
woods and grasseyness
other than that it's real quality meats,
gamey no, no i
Wouldn't play around with
something a foolish as that "
niw myself I like the straps from the leather
it's a savings bonanza.
Son of the Scarecrow
Apt branches sway upon this tree:
Charming the show of wants and needs,
Observe the play of souls set free;
Note how joy flows from seed to seed,
See beyond hue the skin colour;
Choice points the way to truth that facts,
Intent can free beyond flavour;
Opt thus each day what wonder tacts,
Urge love to tell how life endows,
Sense our being despite our race.
Here we can dwell with peace right now,
Use only things to live our place;
Mind what soul feels that love may heal,
Apply dear heart to pain no one;
Note how cheer thrills with warm goodwill,
Indulge fine start till day is done;
Treasure your time upon this earth,
Yield happy chimes from birth to birth.
Leon Enriquez
25 April 2018
Singapore
A sacred sign
Now frames align
A secret path
Seeds sure enough
A simple wave
Feeds route that paves
A loving heart
Treats tale that starts
A precious sway
Comes out to play
A tryst with time
Can make space chime
A moment here
Before death clears
A certain calm
As stillness psalms
A vivid look
Beyond mere books
A lasting feel
Love funds and heals
A foretaste now
Of sure endow
A timeless thrill
Grace floods goodwill
A life worthwhile
To fashion smiles
An emblem shows
That knowing knows.
Leon Enriquez
01 September 2014
Singapore
Unassailable purity, a cognition divine of venerated mind,
Proffers promise inviolable, beneficence sacred aligned,
With force invincible emanating from goodwill of heart
Forming precepts impeccable, teachings benevolent impart.
Purity of thought and action~ a worthy and righteous goal,
Resounds indomitable from kindred voice of resolute soul;
A heavenly call of compassion, extolling sanctity of love,
Lifting tenor of gloomy dawns~ soothing refrains of dove.
Unassailable purity in life, a road map of directions to hope,
Sacrosanct are its valiant acts, vowing ceaselessly to cope,
Performing with mighty resolve, deeds inducing pride;
Serving humbly as invisible hand of irreproachable guide.
Assisting destitute is the sermon, tolling bells of prayer,
Beckoning the weary, indigent, to shelter and welfare;
Comforting grief of despair with words enlightened, aware,
Consoling cry of nothingness, bequeathing love and care.
It exemplifies within her selfless smile, purity of her eyes,
Reassuring her children, bliss of mother’s love never dies;
Its rectitude unassailable, eternal as the reign of time,
A gift precious, paramount to life~ ethereal and sublime.
Dew sprays the wind on every bough
As crimson drapes are drawn with night,
The season’s hours come... to endow
Colors of springtime’s pure delight.
I trace how April bursts anew
From grasses brushed in lemon-corn
Where heady mists etch palette’s hue;
That now, dusk’s warmth finds life reborn...
Melodies of hummingbirds share
In a pageant of woodland charm;
While trees spill fragrance everywhere
Releasing scented dew-laced balm...
Verdant the birthing of a hill,
To claim pure joy from winter’s grim;
For I am lured by spring's goodwill
Alive with rapture... to the brim!
Spring Time Contest of Alexis Y.
3/20/2017
From the very depths of my inner being I cherish poetry,
without the written verse I’d be impoverished as a person,
literary projects spur me on to otherworldy epic peaks,
an open channel with furtherance from lexicons endowed,
golden opportunity for human pathos rich and fair,
stomach-wrenching pain, joyous peals of laughter, mental stimulus,
visions I adhere to have a wider world impetus,
the comity of fellow authors and their honest feedback,
diplomatic goodwill hint at barren lapse within my canon,
and gracious honeyed Bon Mot of peer group kudos on occasions,
that angst-ridden moment before a contest sponsor judgement,
bold gasp of relief at higher placement than expected,
or just as likely glum expression at the baleful NA,
in support a staunch muse Jay A Pallen shed her light,
loyal and demonstrative sister, whose sparkling eyes ooze warmth,
sagacious councillor supreme, bestowing love on this bard and their ardent stanza,
who brought to my attention bewitching vistas waiting to be captured,
influencer of my first ever piece “Downward Plod,”
shortlisted for Creative Writing Ink poet challenge,
where this writer’s magic life-enhancing odyssey began
It's a new day, a new Christmas eve party streaming live
when Santa had to drink, Kahlua and cream, tequila to survive
to warm him up, have a little trust that the world is still alive
as covid-19, coronavirus shiver, quiver all his vibes.
There's the tree, decorated with syringes and vaccines
goodwill is sparing, feelings and emotions quite mean
but Washington is well and quite alive ringing the Wall street bells
lying, deluded, and denying the party's really going quite well.
There are Mitch and Lindsay, Jim Jordan and Matt Gaetz
waiting for the Donald, bowing is never too late, don't hesitate
to do the last tango in White House once hallowed halls,
whimpering and shouting, demanding for election recalls.
It's all unfair, fake news they create to dispute the majority at will
ready to secure their historic infamous places on the hill
and Santa (he doesn't really exist), don't resist
as he slips in quiet, cautious as a mouse thru the house
without a present for these lice, foolish integrity deprived louse.
They bully and they banter slipping in and out of reality and time
not one Christmas gift beneath the tree will they find.