Long Grow Poems
Long Grow Poems. Below are the most popular long Grow by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grow poems by poem length and keyword.
PUMPKIN KING
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lo! A sight to behold, a vision wonderous,
a majestic pumpkin, round and full of grace
with skin, a masterpiece in orange, sublime.
With fingertips soft, I trace its curves,
marveling at how nature creates and serves,
for every line and curve crafted by Nature’s hand.
This one pumpkin, oh how it spoke to me
whispering tales of fall's delight,
of warmth, comfort, and cozy nights.
I cradled it close, the pumpkin king,
a symbol of reigning abundance, seasonal delight
for within its depths, flavors rich and seeds galore.
With reverence, I carried off my find,
grateful for the magic of Nature’s simple things--
the pumpkin king, perfect in form and design.
Days grow short, and nights draw near.
On our porch pumpkin king reigns, round and true,
a symbol of seasonal change.
What are those furry bundles in the tree?
They get larger in the evening if you ask me.
Brown like chipmunks, but can they be?
Or are they squirrels who want to grow with me?
My mother stared at the tree and walked around it twice.
She started to speak not once, or twice, but at least thrice.
I think your idea is exceedingly rare and very nice.
But these squirrels are rodents, much like mice.
To cheer them on would be wrong, I think.
Your dad would throw a fit to see them growing on the brink.
Let’s keep them a secret, and hope they hop away.
When they grow to maturity. What do you say?
2024.5.14
Apple said to banana
"B loves avocados more than you".
Avocados signed: "Hmm, apparently not any more.
Now, he loves his lazy bone
And lets it be his boss.
Chilli whispered "I am hot
But not enough to attract him".
Orange said "I am full of Vitamin C.
And wondered where he got the calcium from
To feed his lazy bone,
Which made him grow so much and so tall.
Grapes said "Sour grapes"
Mandarin yelled in Chinese
"Mind your own business.
B has lots of videos to watch
And to work on them."
Plum signed "By the way,
He will never get plum from fasting,
So make way for the love,
Of his life for the present time"
"Guys, guys, please be quiet,
Don't you worry, I love you too.
You will get warmer with me,
So leave B alone with his work"
"Who said that?"
It is me. Mala.
Growing up
My father and me
He did the best he could
Because once we were three
Events happened
And then we were two
His rise and demise
As his life withdrew
Looking back, to the memories we had
They never lasted for years
Some great, some sad
For an ill man he did his best
And in me, I have his zest
He never recovered from the loss of his son
To say goodbye to the elder one
He was hospitalised for months and years
On the day he was taken, uncontrollable tears
The years we shared
Fifteen in all
In every one
He helped me grow tall
To appreciate, what life will give
Remember your past, let your future live
He's all around me every day
For on the wind I hear him say
Enjoy your life, live happily
I hope you get to the land of the free
My reply to you Dad
As you look down on me
The Aura around you
The man I hope to be
" Happy Fathers Day to you Dad, I still miss you, your loving son James "
To be read listening to Boston's
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzOKrXj8Hp4
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php
The absolute one,
the primordial light of the universe
lights perennially the essence of the living.
The ultimate one,
the primeval energy of the universe
drives perpetually the destiny of the existent.
The invisible rays of enlightening
travel across the infinite space,
the profound energy is manifest in the eternal soul.
All contained in the only one, the absolute truth.
The omnipresent is ingrained in everything that exists
and shares the light of the absolute truth.
Yet each one is like a tree in the forest of diversity,
each one is like a flower in the garden of plurality.
The truth unsensed and the oneness unrealized
generate conflicts of intolerance,
debase the blessed existence,
cause bloods to flow in strife,
grow distances in collapsed relationships.
In the restive blind mind in futile pursuit of peace
the bliss of the divine soul remains unperceived.
Let the tormented life get the supreme solace,
let it feel in the soul the touch of the absolute truth.
June 28, 2018.
WHEN SOULS GATHER FOR THE SOUL PURPOSE OF UNION, A BEAUTIFUL THING
HAPPENS. LIFE AS WE KNOW IT BEGINS TO CHANGE FORM AND OUR MINDS
FINALLY GIVE US PERMISSION TO GROW WINGS AND FLY. (breathe)
LIKE A BIRD WHO IS STARTING TO UNDERSTAND THE PURPOSE OF SOARING
AND WHY GOD CREATED THE HEAVENS, WE TOO LEAVE OUR SAFE EARTHLY
BODIES AND MAKE AN ATTEMPT TO CLIMB INTO HIGHER GROUND. (breathe)
WHEN SOULS GATHER TOGETHER TO UNIFY THE LIGHT THAT SHINES WITHIN,
A WONDERFUL THING HAPPENS. WE BECOME LIKE A BUTTERFLY WINGING
TOWARDS THE STAIRCASE OF PLANETARY ASSENSION. WE LEARN TO
LIVE WITH VIBRANCY AND LOVE. (breathe)
WHAT IS THIS NEW ENERGY THAT WE HAVE FOUND ? WE ASK OURSELVES.
THE ANSWER IS SIMPLE. IT IS THE ZEST OF A SOUL THAT HAS BECOME
ENAMOURED WITH THE IDEA OF SOUL UNION . MYSTICISM BECOMES
SIIMPLIFIED AND AS WE DISCOVER THE MYSTERY OF LIFE ITSELF.
(breathe)
WHEN SOULS GATHER FOR THE SOUL PURPOSE OF UNION, A BEAUTIFUL
THING HAPPENS. LIFE BEGINS ANEW, AND THE MOST AMAZING PART
IS THIS is, IT ALL BEGINS WITH YOU. (breathe)
NAMASTE
Fears stay forever,
They don't deteriorate like weather.
And I watch the free birds through my foggy window,
And I watch their lives flow.
To grow old is to grow wise,
That's what they said.
Presidents and doctors and Gymnasts too,
This wisdom is not enough to mistake you,
They thrive for openings to their neverending fears.
They strive for a open door when they haven't seen one in years.
And though they have no idea.
It's better than to stay and fear.
Everyone feels fear as if it has overcome us.
Though I see the appeal.
I still see the crow children free as a bird.
From my fogged up windowsill.
A splinter of moon in a swamp-water eye,
Born under green moss, where the dead maggots sigh.
The air smells of pickled fish, salt, and raw fear,
Solomon Grundy is finally here.
The preacher is silent, the water is sludge,
A baptism of iron, the tombstone won’t budge.
He drinks down the Tuesday in a gray, heavy gulp,
And turns all his Sundays to wet, rotten pulp.
He weds a torn shadow in a veil made of mist,
With mud for a lover, a cold, empty wrist.
They dance on the razor-edge, Monday to noon,
Under a howling, forgotten yellow moon.
His blood turns to clockwork, the gears start to break,
A fever on Sundays, he cannot e’er wake.
His bones are now timber, his breath is a hiss,
He swallows the void of a Thursday abyss.
The hours are melting, the shadows grow tall,
He’s climbing the ceiling and walking the wall.
A sickness of memory, a plague of the past,
Solomon Grundy is breathing his last.
The sky splits in two with a thunderous moan,
His skeleton rises from a throne made of bone.
The clocks stop their ticking, the world turns to rust,
And Grundy is nothing but silence and dust.
The grave is a mirror, a dark, open mouth,
He goes west, north, east, and he wanders down south.
Buried on Sunday, but Monday is near,
That is the end ... of the monster I fear.
Fallen leaves of wintry breeze subsides
Cold have taught me to spring forth warmth
And guard my limbs, my vitals, vigilantly.
Once upon a time I was blinded by shadows
Lurking in my dreams, in the dark, and in broad daylight
They were closer than most, (myself.)
Strings of pearls with gold and diamonds; will shimmer
Right before my eyes, for me;we deserve to glow
and grow, and sail to see of love.
For love resides within vault of our conscience
It is the all mighty weapon against enemies
It remains all we'll ever need to share on life's journey.
I am my future; we are our future for better or worst
Rest assure, a grain of good can be nurtured
I have see it flowered and spread like dandy-lions.
For within iris; that pupil upon orb of spiritual eye
It isn't hard to recognize, it's ever alive
Thriving in its place, naturally by the Almighty.
*
I was invited to a pumpkin patch, a thing not happened before,
She was giving away pumpkins, but there was a little flaw
She says her pumpkins are not quite the usual ones we know,
In fact they tend to be quite bright, with a light put in below.
The fact is her pumpkins have grown up all white
She is giving them away because they gave her a little fright.
I decide not to go empty handed as in days gone by,
A return gift for Carol for I decided I would buy.
But no, I would grow something, that I could give with love.
So I sent for some seeds to plant, and prayed to heaven above.
Please let my marrow be the biggest ever seen,
Its not for me it’s for Carol,
The white growing pumpkin queen.
I would not ask this for myself, but I want to show Carol that
She is not he only one to give things and I want a marrow to give back.
I watered the marrow daily and it grew beyond all expectation
I must have green fingers, or it is all the extra hydration.
I gave thanks to God above for my prayers he must have heard.
It was getting so big now I wondered how I would get it transferred.
And then came the day to harvest the best marrow I have ever seen,
There was a little problem though I found it was not green.
God then spoke to me and I listened to everything he said,
‘You only wanted to show off, so I made your marrow red,
Now you must still give it ,but with love and with humility
And don t ever again believe, that you can ever, really fool me.’