Long Haystacks Poems
Long Haystacks Poems. Below are the most popular long Haystacks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Haystacks poems by poem length and keyword.
Affect matters more than numbers do
Reason without love ,so blind to ends
Rational means were used to kill our Jews.
Searching Europe’s “haystacks” for a clue
Reason makes its wondrous, obscene blend
Affect matters more than numbers do
When Belsen was relieved, who bought the glue?
The bones of suffering dead might,did offend
Rational calculaters tortured Jew
Was Jesus rational, what the end he knew?
See his mother Mary, weeping,kind.
Affect matters more than numbers do
By the Christians, Jesus was abused
His brothers and his sisters barred, disdained
Factories were used to gas his Jews.
How to see what matters in the end
Hate outweighed by Love, controlled not blamed
Affect matters more than numbers do
Rational calculations ,G-d, oh G-d, Jesu.
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“How sweet to the heart are the scenes of my childhood”
Samuel Woodworth, 1785-1842
How dearly past evokes my red-tiled home
Which sits on the hill near a mango tree
Where cows merrily graze and cattle roam!
Back in my childhood now memories plea
For wildlife, rice fields, and days full of fun
For haystacks on bull-carts rolling carefree;
For mauve-tinged horizons ruby skies spun
For grasslands, rivers and monsoon rain fall
For prairies serene, thrilled in gleaming sun;
When rosy dawns awoke to roosters’ call
And farmers tilled their land in sunrise gold
As cultural myths invoked in crows’ squall.
Oh, land of my dreams how snugly I hold!
While treasures dear to me fondly unfold.
November 24, 2020
Placed 1st: Writing challenge -Terza Rima - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Ten syllables per line (howmanysyllables.com)
Placed 2nd: Podium placing contest 4 by Brian Strand
Buttemere to Ulla pike,
our walk more ramble than hike.
Up and down,rain or snow,
two teenage daughters in tow.
Haystacks,Loweswater overlooking the lake,
now locked in memory's keepsake.
Up Skiddaw and Wythrop beck,
much much longer than our usual trek.
Through the wood onto Dodds crag,
both the girls now starting to flag.
Down the slope to Underseer
stopping to buy a small souvenir.
Out on the fell with spongy moss,
Wainwright in hand as the paths criss-cross.
Along the beck in a tree lined walk,
watching the antics of a hovering hawk.
Deer grazing 'neath woodland trees,
Cartmel to Keswick,just the place to take one's ease
lunch-time picnics on grassy banks,
vacations now recalled with thanks.
Buttemere to Ulla pike,our walk more ramble than hike.Up and down,rain or
snow,two teenage daughters in tow.Haystacks,Loweswater overlooking the
lake,now locked in memory's keepsake.Up Skiddaw and Wythrop beck,much
much longer than our usual trek.Through the wood onto Dodds crag,both the
girls now starting o flag.Down the slope to Underseer stopping to buy a small
souvenir.Out on the fell with spongy moss,Wainwright in hand as the paths
cross-cross.Along the beck in a tree lined walk,watching the antics of a hovering
hawk.Deer grazing 'neath woodland trees,Cartmel to Keswick,just the place to
take one's ease.lunch-time picnics on grassy banks,vacations now recalled with
much thanks.
You swept in like a French impressionist with the leaves blowing in the air.
You snapped a photograph of me swinging and my long blonde hair.
We made love all night long, and shared a life that wasn’t at all wrong.
Now the haystacks are on fire, and the water lilies are gone.
I dared to embrace a pure boundless movement for creativity, exploring my subconscious like a Dali art form.
All I could see were fields of corn, with a lake full of whispers, as you walked away into your ring of fire.
Walking away from our dreams and desires.
I wonder who you now admire, with your social climbing, and condescending tone.
I tried to remain in composure in my mind full of strife.
As you took your vows and threw them down in an angry game of knives.
Now Monet, and Dali have left; the only thing I have left is this oil painting of Picasso, where the elderly man sings, his ruined clothing and a bucket full of dreams.
As he panhandles at night he hunches over his guitar with no one in sight, reminds me of my time on the streets, where I was left with abuse and no place to eat.
You swept in like a French impressionist with a camera in hand, ready to take advantage of my hair and the pure white sand. The haystacks caught fire, and the lilies have died, and now you have a new wife by your side.
I paint in series; same motif – haystacks, trees, cathedrals, water lilies.
normandy inspired many pencil sketches of sailing ships.
aunt Marie-Jeanne encouraged me; she was a generous painter.
boudin encouraged me to paint in open air, which was unheard of.
I worked with Renoir for a few months; we had similar tastes and canvases.
called them bad sketches, the beginning of the Impressionist period.
neverland called to me where I painted canals, boats, tulips and windmills.
I practiced drawing and painting an identical motif over and over.
best decision I ever made was to buy the marshlands across the road.
diverted the stream, creating a gorgeous new water lily garden.
weeping willows, iris and bamboo shot up, entertaining my paint brush.
meditated and painted there until I died at the happy age of eighty-six.
Times wasting no need for hesitation
Staying on my grind to have a revelation
Maybe then you will stop hating
Thru all my trials and tribulations
While the world keeps facing devastation and destruction
With a government that's poorly constructed
Living paycheck to paycheck
Feeling like I'm flipping haystacks for nothing but apple jacks
The stress is boiling over
Wishing I could find the power
To make it through the horror of getting poorer
Knowing time wont stop
No matter if I cry or bleed
Not even if I beg or plead.
3/16/2017
This, is for the readers that don't like to read a lot.
It is part 2 of "Out of my mind" which is also mine.
The field stretched across the plains, A sea of yellow sunrays reigns. Sparkling on the crests it glows, Of little hills of haystacks rows.
Swirling and soaring across the fields, A sight that nature’s magic wields. On a throne of wheat and donning, A golden crown, it’s worth stunning.
To honor the rich soil, Of crimson and umber, it’s beauty royal.
The wind murmurs through the fields, A harmony of nature’s yields. The swaying of the wheat and hay, A tune that lifts us away.
The sun dips on the horizon, A masterpiece of colors that’s dazzling. The field transforms into a canvas of gold, A sight that never grows old.
The field stretched across the plains, A sea of yellow sunrays reigns. Sparkling on the crests it glows, Of little hills of haystacks rows.
The sky above is splashed with hues, Of orange, pink, and purple blues. The clouds are stained with shades of red, As the sun slides below the horizon bed.
The field is now a mosaic of colors, A sight that fills our souls with wonders. The beauty of nature is on full display, As we watch the colors melt away.
Red barn in the country
sunny parcel of farmland
ploughed field and heavy machinery at rest
Chickens free ranging
jersey cows grazing the pasture
and the dog runs as it pleases
Soaking in the sun
horses within white fences overseeing
soft hills with haystacks neatly bundled
Two rocking chairs on the veranda
swing hung under the porch
on cool nights smoke billows from house
Vestige of years gone by
the ranch outliving its use
a lifestyle foreign to cityfolk
Grandkids out exploring a field
and soon-to-be abandoned barn
in plain view: Sold over the For Sale sign
AP: 3rd place 2022, 3rd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2026, Front Page Pick 2022
4/30/21
Minor or major changes in the asteroid belt
Ice caps and ice sheets continue to melt
Experts speculate on whether or not devastation will be dealt
Moved around or always in the same place they dwelt
Actions were insincere or they were heartfelt
Too many are so quick to pelt
Another and give them welts
Been going on before and after Roosevelt
Close and far from areas with Elk
The same could be said for waters with Kelp
Welp
Does no good to yelp
Just got to help
Myself
Instead of collecting dust on a shelf
Because it's not going to come from someone else
Need to focus more on my health
And the many different ways of accumulating wealth
Staying out of sight due to stealth
Hard to see at first glance
From the potency and amount often in a trance
If needed, pivoting with the stance
In order to advance
I got to take a chance
Close or away from forests filled with plants
And lands full of ants
Across the entire expanse
I partook in a rain dance
Near a field with haystacks
On a planet with wild and tame cats
From here to past basecamp
Going in and out of cane grass
It's recommended to make an effort ASAP
If you don't you just may stay trapped
So they say that
Ever since way back
It's been the same crap
Fame and cash
Saw it coming or fell into the laid trap
People betray fast
Do more move on, or do they want payback?
Whether a small or large age gap
So tragic whenever a train derails off the train track
Or when there is a plane crash