Long Hazy Poems
Long Hazy Poems. Below are the most popular long Hazy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hazy poems by poem length and keyword.
The house is quiet, nothing moves,
hidden in the rise of the early morning dawn.
Stepping softly across the flooring grooves
come shadows of newly awakened yawns,
The morning sun rises steady and slow
as some figure moves barely seen and heard,
a vision familiar and missed, an image well we know
followed instinctively by life once incurred.
The dog asleep on the sofa, stirs wide awake
he watches cautiously following it with his gaze.
recognizing the features in the steps and shakes.
he moves to the vibrations of the call then stays;
it is the echo of his master returning here, once more
speaking then singing softly in the hazy rays
touching home through the opened door.
I rise from sleep, sure of the sounds I heard
somewhere in my forgotten dream,
The past returns with echoed whispers blurred.
and sense, the feeling, the unending stream
of faces, voices no longer present but in my heart.
The images hide and only on occasion speak
calling to me softly with echoes in the dark
hiding in the memories I keep.
The moon hangs bold yet serene
In its pool of molten moonlight
When the night belongs to Selene.
When the night bleeds aubergine
Into the folds of daylight,
The moon hangs bold yet serene.
The sky and the ocean convene
As lazy waves drag hazy starlight,
When the night belongs to Selene.
When the night sky crowns its queen
With stars of the purest white,
The moon hangs bold yet serene.
Her opulence lingers between
Fragments of essence and sleight
When the night belongs to Selene.
We worship her peaceful routine,
Performed from magnificent heights.
The moon hangs bold yet serene
When the night belongs to Selene.
Inspired by a love story.
A new love song.
To have a girl like you
(Our love is my miracle)
By Michelle Morris
09/01/2026
For years, I was alone
Isolated amongst the crowd
Screaming fans, players in the band
Walking through it all in a hazy cloud
Who was I to know
Who was I to care
Who was I to dream
Who was I to dare
And yet it happened for us
We blew up and became famous
Still, the only girl I'd ever loved
Cheated on me, my heart left aching
And so it goes, and so it goes
Who was I to know
And so it flows, and so it flows
Who was I to hope
To have a girl like you
Come along in this lifetime
To unbreak my heart
You were my sunshine
To have a girl like you
See me for who I really am
To have a girl like you
Make me feel like I can
Becoming famous
Is not always the greatest thing
You're surrounded by fake people
All wanting you to be king
To own the throne
But not the crown, for sure
They'll keep on taking from you
Always wanting more
So when you meet someone
And you really click
You see the soul inside
It makes your world seem to fit
So, when you meet someone
And they truly care (for you, you, you)
You know that being with them
Is what you have to do (oh, yeah)
To have a girl like you
Come along in this lifetime
To unbreak my heart
You were my sunshine
To have a girl like you
See me for who I really am
To have a girl like you
Make me feel like I can
Who was I to know
Who was I to care
Who was I to dream
Who was I to dare
But with you here
It all comes full circle
My heart is healed
Our love is my miracle
To have a girl like you
Come along in this lifetime
To unbreak my heart
You were my sunshine
To have a girl like you
See me for who I really am
To have a girl like you
Make me feel like I can
To have a girl like you
Come along in this lifetime
To unbreak my heart
You were my sunshine
To have a girl like you
See me for who I really am
To have a girl like you
Make me feel like I can
© Michelle Morris, 2026
Quote No.1
“As you live deeper in the heart~
The mirror gets clearer and cleaner.”
_Quote by Rumi
Oh God,
You have created me
In your image and likeness-
The mirror of your love.
What do you see
When you gaze upon me?
Your image and likeness?
Or just a hazy semblance
Dulled by the sticky film that forms
On a mirror left unattended?
Your image is surely there, Lord.
Teach me, I pray,
To faithfully cleanse away that film
Which obscures the clarity of you-
Those everyday pollutants
That distorts your reflection-
So that, what you are
And what you see in me,
Are clearly, one.
If a storm brews in the yonder horizon hazy
Wild winds surge somber clouds in the smoky sky
Sailing on the old boat with unsinkable hope
The ancient mariner in you will reach the shore
For you are buoyant.
If rains pour in torrent from the thunderous sky
Deluge descends in your antique barren valley
Find your fragile house in the flood of despair
Face the situation with fortitude and faith
For you are spirited.
If the frail body toils in the dark abyss of disease
Senile mind perceives it’s the beginning of the end
Walk with hope the last mile for it won’t end soon
Remember the garden path you walked in sunny days
For you are dreamer.
If the listless time seems to stop at the twilight hour
Darkness of dusk drizzles on the shadow of desolation
You hear the echo of footsteps of the falling night near
Wait in the moonshine for the new sun will rise again
For you are optimist.
March 12, 2021
Contest : Poetry As Legacy
Sponsor : Line Gauthier
On gossamer wings my life floats into my mind,
cloudy shadows vague, puzzling and perplexing;
it seems my life has been more like opaque chapters,
sometimes the darkness, is fogbound and murky.
Yet, some unfathomable reverie brings me sweetness,
clouded in dimness, blurred and hazy and beautiful;
I linger in my reverie, in the mystifying mist of time,
and when it clears, I am left weeping with the love.
My life from birth to death is a book closing forever,
and my reverie will soon be opaque on the pages;
not penetrating the light again and non transmitting,
for I will be gone and all that I was will be obscure.
_____________________________
November 24, 2019
Poetry/Verse/'Opaque Reverie'
Copyright Protected, ID 19-12089-913-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Strand Special 3
Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
“Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he.” Proverbs 29:18 of the King James Bible
Wrapped around my virtual mindfulness spree
I behold our special child basking in freedom
beyond dreamlike fantasy, verily ecstatic
zooming around park, designed for surreal venture.
Never unreal midst my faith-brightened vision
our son radiates exuberance against hazy ambiance
as he recites Bible verses, fortified with distinct gestures
only imaginary in skeptic unbelieving minds.
Outshining shadowy doubts, our young man prevails
sharing the Gospel, enunciating the love of God…
thus I delightfully see in seemingly trancelike enthrallment
while praying for miraculous occurrence, very possible.
Whether those are ethereal or celestial moments
To me, they are heavenly sublime wondrous merriments.
May 29, 2021
2nd place, "Writing Prompt - Dreamlike" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 6/2/2021.
I’m lodged in this train on a top spot
yet alone...while others trace a blue noon amiably,
As dewed mist holds me immovable
From my row ... the toot of a loud whistle
makes me want to peep out restlessly.
This journey is intermittent through my solos of night,
where most wayfarers gig on-- animated, pleasant--
and they know where they're headed to, come eve,
this clear level of certainty... a destination so sure
relishing coffee, time's sagas with much fervor:
Here I am, listening to their seemingly deified hums
as the tenet of my life idly churns like rusted wheels,
that a hazy eye gazes at an aching moon
its glint wondering about my self- imposed deed of alienation.
Palindromes Contest for Joseph May
5/20/2018
Once there was a story about hazy affection.
United as one but it’s a wrong combination!
Turned out odd when you turned back,
Treated me unwell like we can’t go back.
Said you need to think things like a student in class,
Started to play dead and left me too fast.
You were wrong but I made corrections.
Guess you were numb to get my attention.
Thought of our story all over again.
Realized I wasn’t loved in the end.
Was it for fun while good things lasted?
Found a small hole till he made love busted.
Left me hanging with no permission.
Nightmares turned out to bad premonition.
So I’m writing this poem to formally say,
We’re done baby and I’m tired to play.
The tender little hands have no toys to play,
frail fingers draw doll’s crude faces
on broken soil of neglect, dry as bone.
The famished face doesn’t know
how the dance of the summer rains feels,
for it’s flooded in the torrent of tear.
The colors of sunset on the sinking sky,
the hues of remote rainbow spectrum
melt away in the pensive moist eyes,
for they see the shimmer of sweat
streaming down mother’s pallid face,
draining her age before time.
She is a timid girl of twelve,
crimson sunrise in her hazy horizon she hasn’t seen,
for when her mother goes out to work
her half-closed eyes are still in the cradle of sleep.
She holds her hands hanging listless,
the sole security she has, the only hope she clutches.
She hasn’t ever known
what a flower called childhood is,
for she hasn’t yet seen the teenage garden blossom. To
As she helps her fatigued mother
washing and cleaning others’ households,
she learns what she needs to do lifelong.
Before closing her tired eyes for the night,
she looks into the clouded mirror, ties untidy braids
with the red ribbon her mother once gave,
she sees her dreams not yet obscure.
(This is a voice in verse against child labor)
November 13, 2019
Contest : 2 To 12
Sponsor : Beth Evans
December 30, 2019
Contest : Strand Special 12, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand