Long Greetings Poems
Long Greetings Poems. Below are the most popular long Greetings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Greetings poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh vast universe, that awakes our dreams,
We gaze at your splendour from earthly sphere,
A blue, green gem, a wide expanse, it seems,
Yet in the quiet night, we know you're near.
Oh cosmos bright, with galaxies aflame,
In silence, you bear each wandering star,
You weave the threads of fate, each one the same,
Linking hearts and hopes, regardless how far.
The Milky Way, a ribbon stitched in time,
Expanding dreams that echo through the night,
In your vast hold, we find sweet rhythm and rhyme,
A dance of glows that fill the soul with light.
Beneath your gaze, our stories intertwine,
As comets streak and vanish like a sigh,
In every heartbeat, love and smiles align,
A journey shared beneath this endless sky.
O starry canvas where the ages blend,
Your painted skies hold memories of old,
To each twinkling light, a message we send,
An ode from Earth to realms that shine like gold.
We extend greetings through the solar winds,
With echoes of our prayers, dreams, and tears,
For in your heart, the universe rescinds
The distance that divides, the source of fears.
Together we reside, though miles apart,
Connected by the cosmos, vast and free,
With every gaze aloft, we give our heart,
To you, the boundless, our celestial sea.
In hopes that one day, as the stardust swirls,
Mankind may reach beyond our little sphere,
To find in you the stories of our worlds,
Greetings from Earth, sweet cosmos, ever near.
In Gboko, where the dust motes dance and play,
A town, a city, a people, some would say.
What defines its spirit, a riddle, a quest,
With a gait too familiar, putting all to the test.
"Gboko!" he calls, by name, with a grin,
"Seems we're acquainted, where have you been?"
For here, familiar strangers, a curious clan,
Know each other better than any single man.
Party crashers abound, with a joyful shout,
Praise singers serenade, no shadow of doubt.
Fantastic storytelling, a vibrant, grand art,
Where habit and culture play a blurring part.
A bikeman, young, in a change-fueled fray,
Declares, "Woman dey here, food dey here, wetin I dey go find for your place?"
Such pride and contentment, a truth so stark,
In a town once welcoming, now bearing a wary mark.
In hay days of yore, a Tiv capital grand,
An industrial hub, with BCC at hand.
Ivo I msam – the tailed goat lap, a delight,
Ishu I bee nya ke tyo – fish, so perfectly white.
When women, with skill, seasoned chicken with grace,
Before the slaughter, a culinary embrace.
Families flocked in, from the hinterland's call,
For hope and new society, standing proud and tall.
Money flowed freely, like a river so wide,
Vanity and funfare, with nowhere to hide.
On paydays, men painted the whole town in red,
Trays of spiced chicken, till late, they were fed.
Imported lager flowed, in a frothy, grand spree,
And megalomaniacs, grandiloquently,
Would bluster and boast, with a haughty decree,
"Orvesen, m tse u ke kitchen ga!" – Sir, not in your kitchen, you see!
Courteous profanity, a delicate art,
Where titles and greetings played a respectable part.
Before venturing forth, with venom and ire,
To "dress down" their target, a verbal hot fire.
So Gboko gives chase, to the past and the present,
An intriguing weave, both funny and pleasant.
A place of contrasts, of laughter and grit,
Where the spirit of the people, forever is lit.
aforementioned author born
February 7, 1812
the long deceased (centuries) storied author
I toot and trumpet virtual horn
accompanying pet rooster
first thing in the morn.
Greetings mutual friend,
hard times dash Great Expectations
in this Bleak House
whereby battle of life ensues
when Sunday chimes
from Master Humphrey’s clock
somber American notes
invoking overshadowing doom
from young gentlemen:
Oliver Twist, Nicholas Nickleby, Barnaby Rudge
Martin Chuzzlewit, David Copperfield
and Young Cricket on the hearth Little Dorrit
collaborated on Pickwick Papers
with Dombey and son detailing
how I (a haunted man/
ghost’s bargain) alias Mudfog
self absorbed in his Old Curiosity Shop
hunted down by boyhood days
(akin to an endless Christmas carol
frieze as child’s history)
now a thick dust covered holiday romance
memory portraying this signal-man
(according to George Silverman's explanation)
eerily similar to
the mystery of Edwin Drood,
exiled after his trial for murder
birthing three ghost stories
inhabiting a haunted house
affecting the young couples lamplighter,
an uncommercial traveler
evidenced by pictures from Italy
prone to speeches, sketches
by Boz and his lazy tour
an oft repeated Tale Of Two Cities
best read at dusk.
Poem : my heart
Oh my heart
What happened to you
Where is your lub dub,
Where is your fuel
Where is your beating
Why my body is heating
Oh my god my cells are greetings
Is this a kind of meeting??
My doctor say something different
There is a complications that is an agreement
How could you do this, my heart?
Dont you love my rib cage
Why you want to close my life page
Please atrium and ventricle
Listen me its a gentle.
Please go backto your musician contest
Do beating and do fantastic
Please heart keep healthy
Donr break my hope you are my rope
I need nothing you are everything
Now I come to know there is importance of health something!!!
Oh my heart
What happened to you
Where is your lub dub,
Where is your fuel
Where is your beating
Why my body is heating
Oh my god my cells are greetings
Is this a kind of meeting??
My doctor say something different
There is a complications that is an agreement
How could you do this, my heart?
Dont you love my rib caAndroid Why you want to close my life page
Please atrium and ventricle
Listen me its a gentle.
Please go backto your musician contest
Do beating and do fantastic
Please heart keep healthy
Donr break my hope you are my rope
I need nothing you are everything
Now I come to know there is importance of health something!!!
Poet : bhoomi bhardwaj
Greetings. We received your toxic tax documents today; proceeded to immerse them in the de-cootie wash for precisely 30 minutes; then showered them with Gamma Ray’s, which is not what you think it is, but rather a high powered barbecue sauce (made by some Texan’s grandma) that’s strong enough to knock those little booger viruses out clean cold. The only problem is, by the time we detoxified your tax documents, no print was left and the paper had the consistency of TP. So, you guessed it, seein’ as how TP is more or less the top selling commodity worldwide as such, I put it up for sale on eBay and made enough money where I can retire and never do taxes again. So, I want to thank you for supplying the seed that germinated my newfound wealth, and I’m happy to inform you that you’ll be receiving an autographed copy of my soon to be published book, which I thoughtfully titled “CORNFED-19 Pandamick—Making Lemonade From Lemons” by T. P. Roller (which happens to be my sudo-numb). Have a nice evening!
opportunity
most zany woodpecker knocks—
heh-heh-heh-hehhhh-heh
5/2/2020
This is a zany, flight of fancy, inspired by my secular profession after 4 weeks of lockdown! The resulting haiku is inspired by Woody Woodpecker—created by Walter Lantz and Ben Hardaway—a cartoon that appeared in theatrical short films produced by the Walter Lantz Studio and distributed by Universal Studios. Woody Woodpecker first appeared in the short film "Knock, Knock" (November 25, 1940). Woody Woodpecker's unforegettable signature laugh begins with "heh-heh-heh-hehhhh-heh," which works well with my haiku since it has 5 syllables! (Woody Woodpecker | Wikipedia) TMI? Oh, my!
O classroom once alive with gentle voices,
Where morning greetings bloomed so bright and clear,
I leave you now—stripped of certain choices,
Unheard, unseen, dismissed through quiet fear.
The silence came—a shadow down the hall,
Erasing names without a single word.
No answer rose to break the rising wall,
No hand reached out, no empathy was stirred.
The leader’s crown slipped heavy from her brow,
Her heart shut tight, her words grew sharp and thin.
She silenced me—no reason, no end vow—
As though I never truly had been in.
The seats were shifted, voices reassigned,
My name erased like chalk at end of day.
Yet still I held the children in my mind—
Their laughter lighting up my fading way.
No grace was shown in hardship or in strain,
No hand extended in my time of need.
Just quiet exile and unspoken pain,
A glowing ember starved of light to feed.
And still within this grief, a truth I find:
Though bruised, my dignity does not depart.
Though shadows press, they cannot touch the mind
Or dim the quiet flame that burns in heart.
Farewell, sweet classroom—may your walls now hear
The echoes of respect, the sound of care.
And may those who still lead one day draw near
To build with love—a space just, kind, and fair.
Evergreen pine adorned like lace
Tassels of joy, warming an embrace
Streetlights in gold beam all around;
While snowflakes tap a Christmas sound.
Neighbors knock with pastries and wine
Mother sets table, eve divine!
Greetings of peace we all bestow
While angel on tree sheds her glow.
Kin huddles where a manger dwells
To lift dreams,” Praise Emmanuel”
A night of magic when choir-boys sing,
“Joyful thanks for Your christening.”
By midnight we open each small gift
Wonders excite , hearts are adrift;
Till pillows hush delighted eyes
Dad in red costume laughs, "Surprise!"
Christmas Contest of Gail Doyle
by nette onclaud
Line of inquiry:
“as we passed her she did wilt
which caused in us sense of guilt
since our stance perhaps did cause
to put her heart’s joy on pause
though we’re gentle, not hostile
we diminished her soul’s smile
since our aura as she viewed
scent of love did not exude”
~ Unseeking Seeker
******************
Are we perceived as hostile beings
by flora that we tend in our gardens?
If we intimidate petals of peonies
each time we walk past their stems,
we should make amends and ask for pardon.
Is the pink tint of their blush mistrust of us?
Withering zinnias and wilting wisteria!
We wouldn't want to burden them with fear
when we speak of how lovely they'd look
in a crystal vase, set upon our parlor mantle.
To ease their worry and not cause their tears,
in our pockets, we don't carry pruning shears.
We personify flowers as if they have feelings—
but do our innuendos have that effect on people?
We label shy ones as loners or 'wall flowers'
who pull back, often going unnoticed for hours.
Do some of us unintentionally cause that reaction?
If this proves true, we need to take a moment
to have in depth contemplative consciousness,
a change in our stance and make an atonement
if it's determined we're at fault— guilty.
If so, our aura indeed has need of correction.
One that shows us emanating a kinder reflection.
The one who wilted as we passed by—
was she the shrinking Violet we refused to see?
Would we bring her heart joy if we paused
and spoke to her with a gentle greeting?
Words that would give the fragile one cause
to not think of us as hostile and vile?
If a kind word is spoken with a sincere smile
wouldn't those greetings be worthwhile?
It's plausible that we'd then have a pleasant scent,
the treacly aroma of consideration and love.
Time taken to say, 'hello' would've been well spent.
Hold out a hand as a metaphorical invitation to dance.
It might give a wallflower the confidence and the chance
to stand tall and no longer cringe at being approached.
If we've been at fault for diminishing the smile in souls,
offer them emotional strength. Be someone who consoles.
We live grandeur
Such lovely times;
Gratitude speaks
~~~~~~~~~
Joy greets splendour
Smell of fresh grass;
Sighs delight
~~~~~~~~~
Touch of magic
In simple things;
Fabulous sights
~~~~~~~~~
Sense a new feel
Floating free;
A voice calling
~~~~~~~~~
New year presides
Time and tide align;
Wonder delights
~~~~~~~~~
Time for change
To craft new say;
Humbling moments
~~~~~~~~~
Joy calls softly
Laughter delights;
Humour shows wit
~~~~~~~~~
Listen now
Celebrate joy;
Peace on earth
~~~~~~~~~
Green grass verge
Dandelion swaying;
Scented sensations
~~~~~~~~~
Tired old lady smiles
Waiting in line;
Cheer tickles face
~~~~~~~~~
Touch of stray breeze
Ruffles her hair;
Beauty strokes
~~~~~~~~~
New year greetings
So much to say;
Words do not come
~~~~~~~~~
Old man sits here
Stares at passing world;
Private thoughts loiter
~~~~~~~~~
Playful child runs
Frolic greets glee;
Wonder funds motive
~~~~~~~~~
School days
Amazing trips;
Happy adventures
~~~~~~~~~
Old friends cluster
Meet to discuss;
Old news, old times
~~~~~~~~~
Memory prevails
Loiters in corners;
Mood swings attend
~~~~~~~~~
Time loiters with dreams
Broken not forgotten;
New day preaches
~~~~~~~~~
Last I dreamt dreams
Awakening I forget;
Fall into a dream
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
01 January 2015
Singapore
Christmas spirit reigns---
lingers with “good tidings of great joy,
which shall be to all people"*
radiates compassion
from God, source of love
granting gift of eternal life
received through faith
assures blissful serenity
sealed by blessed hope...
surpassing "Merry Christmas" greetings.
Prevailing Christmas message
keeps on reverberating jubilantly
midst divine triumphant hymns
as nativity-scene vividly flashes:
manger birth of the Saviour Emmanuel**
along earth parents, Mary and Joseph
angels’ carols vibrantly exclaiming
“Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace, good will toward men…”***
delighting everyone for promised redemption.
Christmas spirit behooves our hearts
toward thanksgiving praise to the Almighty
for heavenly enrichment
offered through His Son, Jesus Christ
Who left His majestic throne above
reaching down to mankind
offering His very own life…
Such exemplifies wholehearted giving and sharing
we can practice even beyond Christmas season.
*Luke 2:10; **Matthew 1:23;***Luke 2:14
December 11, 2022