Long Hawthorne Poems
Long Hawthorne Poems. Below are the most popular long Hawthorne by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hawthorne poems by poem length and keyword.
Ah, at a magnificent place 'twas
this ball held!
With gorgeous jam debutantes,
arriving one by one.
Sorry you were not there!
To behold the debutantes and
their escorts gliding down the
winding stairs
Such beautiful faces,and all
superbly trained in fine cotillion
graces.
First came Rose Petal and Seville
Orange, a stunning pair!
Then Honeysuckle and Sir Hawthorne,
so stunning they drove the crowd wild.
Next, the gorgeous Pearadise
and Sir Quince, so gorgeous we
all did wince!
Cherry and the famed Knight
Elderberry made all heads turn.
Sparkling Dandelion and Prince
Habanero, so lovely, struck our
hearts like arrows.
The Viennese Waltzes began,
a night so memorable.
We all applauded such gorgeous
couples.
Mesmerized by such grace beyond
finite.
Each couple,bowed and left us "
eventually.
With dreams of next years cotillion,
We all pledged to be!
September 12, 2019
*These are names of actual names
of homemade jams and jellies.
The sun got tangled
in the branches of an old Hawthorne.
Daybreak hung down
in grey strips, like a torn parachute
among the knuckled finger-bones
of the grasping tree.
Meg, the younger sister of Bill,
wanted to shin-up and dislodge it.
we thought there was a good chance
we boys would catch a glimpse
of her knickers, so we agreed
to give her a leg-up.
Her skinny limbs, skirt hiked up,
snaking through the spiky twigs
until she was about half-way
to the sun.
Black branches shook
and thorns rattled,
then they loosened their grip
and the sun rose.
Meg whooped and almost fell.
We others grinned sheepishly;
Bill looked at us
as if we were all crazy.
*Image of The Moon Looking At Full by Pixabay.
“No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter, 1850.
Pockets Of Moon and Men
Daylight is wiped away by a washcloth
transformed into a grayish dusk disguise
as an orb light removes a murky swath
its mask gone thus does the illusion dies
The facade exhibits cracked lines and holes
that crisscross its scenery seen in parts
an imperfect surface sway naught the souls
as amour captivate, affects sweethearts
It adjusts pained lives who have broken up
with all its flawed features mesmerize lives
minding trifling defects both share the cup
as keen as mustard errs also faults thrives
Opted pairs make-up after both were torn
Pocket-full-of-miracles pleased Hawthorne
2021 June 23
*1st Place*
ALL YOURS (Jun 25)
~~Brian Strand Judged 2021 June 26
*3rd Place*
Writing Prompt - Flawed
~~Constance La France: Judged 2021 June 24
I cycled to Hawthorne before the dawn,
Saw a deer on Taxter Road leading a fawn.
I reached a field of the kids little League.
Waited for the train, too pumped for fatigue.
The train passed by lakes of Croton Falls,
At Ten Mile River I heard a bird’s calls
At Wassaic, calmed down on Deep Hollow Road,
By purple flowers, a little stream flowed.
I cycled due west, for an outdoor transfusion.
Wethersfield like Brigadoon, but not an illusion.
Up its hill I pedaled, a knight on a quest,
But the statues of centaurs looked unimpressed.
Fountains flowed and flowers bloomed bright,
Well-dressed couples in the courtyards admired the sight.
More statues, eagles and children and men
Could have spent more time, but if not now, when?
I took Schaefer Road, counted side roads till the fourth.
Then zoomed on the asphalt, on Smithfield Road north.
But what goes down must go up, to switch valleys you climb,
Though conversely what ascend must descend, in time.
[chorus]
When the roads are quiet, and above hawks play.
Down I swoop, a nearsighted bird of prey.
Fields spread wide, like a golden sea,
New places to explore, calling to me.
Skipped Salisbury, entered Sharon, took highway 41.
To Amenia and Hitchcock Corners, a load of fun
Down one last hill, was it me who gave a shout?
Stood on my pedals, like a kid let out.
[end]
Back in Wassaic, out drained the ninja esthetic.
Now back to my life, but that’s not so pathetic.
Six days I work, putting food on the table.
Then I’m a weekend warrior, to ride into this fable.
A faint perfume of lilac blooms has stirred the sleeping dawn
Bright sunlight weaves a golden loom with threads across the lawn
Crisp white-lipped Delphiniums tossed snowflakes to the hills, while
Daffodils and pink jonquils shake off the morning chill
Each violet of morning has left no stone deferred
Found growing near, a sprout appears from every seed interred!
Greeting me like candle flames, are poppies, gold and red
Hawthorne weaves a golden crown around the arbor's head!
I look long past the windowpane, and spring has bloomed anew,
just in time to see the sky revealed in shades of blue
knitting primroses in surprise! A sight long overdue!
Lost between the flagstones, alyssum, wild and free, has
mushroomed into puffs of white, competing with sweet peas!
New sprouts of cosmos spring alive in flowerbeds we've teased
On winter's lace a pansy face is smiling up at last!
Petunias in their pastel coats, are dressed like royalty
Queen of all in velvet robes, the iris crowns the grass!
Resplendent are the foxgloves…..and the dragons are a Snap!
Sweet Williams are such gentlemen, they make the morning grand
Tiger lilies brave the wind, stalking in the breeze
Under every shady tree, violas are reprieved, while
verdant shades of primrose lace wear green upon their sleeves
Wisteria's hysteria spreads levity with ease!
Xanadu is Statice "quo"……now, what more could it do?
Yarrow blooms tomorrow. I'll have to dry a few
Zinnias mean that spring has sprung, to share fresh air with you!
____________________________________________________
"Spring Is In The Air" Contest Form ..... A to Z (Abecedarian)
3/4/18
Flowers of the Spring
Apple Blossom petals cascade in the wind
Blue Stars light the path for Spring's friends
Cosmos intoxicating euphoric scent
Dewberries dangle down over the fence
Earths season has shifted from winter to spring
Flowers bloom for miles enhancing all things
Geraniums illuminate in colorful glow
Holly oak, Hawthorne, and Hyacinth now grow
Irises dilate like the most beautiful eyes
Jasmines sweet scent can not be disguised
Kaleidoscope's of colors tell you Springtime is here
Lilacs lush lavender color crystal clear
Marigolds take first prize in the Spring Orange Fair
Nighttime is full of scented flower petal air
Orchids adorn every little ponds shore
Petunias in a pot sitting next to Grandma's door
Quietly this meadow blooms listening to birds sing
Roses that are red are the best gift of love to bring
Snowdrops can grow enormous bulbs all year round
Tulips wear the seasons most popular crown
Ursinia the African Daisy is beautiful but rare
Viburnum group together on a single branch to share
Witch Hazel's are up to their same old silly tricks
X marks the spot best suited for picnics
Yellow flowers adorn every gals springtime dress
Zephyr Flowers round out this poetic Springtime list
04/13/2016
I walk through the pristine green
Follow the footpath around
And finally arrive at the unkempt
Natural burial ground.
The field has matured over
The past ten years
The Hawthorne now overshadows
The seat where I shed my tears.
Just a wild meadow now
No memorials or stones
Just a small wooden pegs
Over each repository of bones.
I kept my promise to you,
To survive and live on
Though the pain was intense
The first year after you’d gone.
But, all pain eases with time
And I learned to cope with life
Found the joy of a new love
With a loving, caring wife.
I don’t come here often now
But somehow I have to let you know
You gave me strength to continue,
I’ll never let those memories go.
Ye lovers of song,
musically inclined,
Sing loud, Sing now,
All the birds of the earth are listening
while we sing all over the world.
Sing like
...the mockingbird
where the weeping willows wave.
... the swallows
as mission bells ring.
... the nightingale who
croons in Berkeley square.
Sing like
...three flamingos
pitched on Bob Marley’s doorstep.
...rockin' robin with Michael Jackson
on Jaybird Street.
... the Blue Jays
at the 7th inning in Toronto.
While we sing all over the world,
all the birds of the earth are listening.
Sing now, Sing loud!
Ye musically inclined,
sing, lovers of song.
April 27, 2020
Credits:
Listen to the Mockingbird – Alice Hawthorne
When The Swallows Come Back to Capistrano – Leon Rene, sung by Ink Spots
A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square – Eric Maschwitz
Three Little Birds – Bob Marley and the Wailers
Rockin’ Robin – Leon Rene, sung by Bobby Day and later, Michael Jackson
OK Blue Jay’s - Jack Lenz and Tony Kosinec
"Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind."
Nathaniel Hawthorne
I sneer at grandfather clock, standing in the hall,
listening as his ticking, leaves my anger spent.
I long to bind his hands and make time crawl,
and if that's considered a sin, I will never repent.
His old brass pendulum swings much too fast,
like a gossip, repeatedly wagging his tongue.
Oh, how I would love to make him gong his last
so I'd have eternal peace when his bell is wrung.
His infinite chime persists at the top of each hour
and in that moment I feel recurring pain.
I must get past the relentless echo of his power.
Headaches from his hammering drive me insane!
Not in the present, but I swear that one day soon
I'll find a way to remove his pulley and chains.
No longer will he gambol that annoying tune,
a cadenced rhythm in redundant refrain.
Time - 8 Word Challenge
Sponsored by A Dear Heart
Posted on July 3, 2020
I, cold ... cold as stone ...
But is that not befitting such as I?
Once, merely common, hidden deep in the earth,
Still, my quality made itself known ... my porcelain perfection
Shone in the sun, and I was freed from Terra's grasp ...
Across a great sea I was rocked, carried in care
To finally, joyfully, go under The Master's hand.
I slowly, agonizingly, emerged from the cloud-white slab, pure ...
Brought forth into all glory and consummation!
Stone saw, chisel, rasp, cloth, and paper ... I stretched my limbs, reached my
Fingers and toes to the ether ... arched my back in a repose of death,
Laid upon an altar of mocked coral, draped only in my net -
The Pearl Diver's repository of all things glistening and wondrous!
Oh, what exquisite orbs, those that grace the net's seam!
White, pink, and black opaline gems - iridescent ocean treasures!
Miraculous drops of milky, nacreous moonlight, hidden in Neptune's gullet,
Awaiting their emancipation ... finally freed at the edge of the diver's blade!
But that, for me, is yet a dream ... I am but stone, after all ...
Be content, instead, to gaze upon my keen beauty,
I, the polished progeny of a sculptor's acumen,
I, the refined, glorious bloom of stone,
I, the ivory issue of marble elegance,
I, the bairn of a master ...
The Dead Pearl Diver.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the " ... And Now For Something Completely Different" Poetry Contest, John Lawless, Judge & Sponsor.
~ Honorable Mention ~ in the "Brian's Choice Q, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
( This is about the sculpture "The Dead Pearl Diver" by Benjamin Paul Akers 1858, currently on display at The Portland Museum of Fine Art in Portland, ME ... this was a personal favorite of Nathaniel Hawthorne, and he wrote about it more than once. This is an incredible sculpture, especially in person )