Long Hilltops Poems
Long Hilltops Poems. Below are the most popular long Hilltops by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hilltops poems by poem length and keyword.
*Image of A Fallen Smirk by DG.
Brace For Impact
Pillar of society, creme de la creme, important person,
one to be reckoned by indeed.
One who's untouched by palls, frails near a radiant ray
growing escorts doth proceed.
Voice of distinction whose speeches are unchallenged
by its assertion that's decreed.
Unphased episodes courses the agendas, a sequence
that discerns simper's precede.
A tempestuous dominance succeeds ominously, envy
malcontents opposition brews.
A reddish rosebud blossom pleasantly teases passing
precious sinless longing views.
Momentarily, likely hopefuls sufficed with promiscuity,
as castles are in the air amuse.
Tease now meets, precious turns valuable, the sinless
goes erringly, a longing peruse.
It's Victor Victoria all o'er again, contentious contempt
prompt convenient conveyance.
Spun wove a collaring, intrigues the unconscious prey
lifeline throbbings flit abeyance.
Reflections forfeited understanding, extending affairs
remaining heartfelt purveyance.
A cunning round effortlessly played a quagmire knew
a must to revisit the surveyance.
Gameplayers oriented with odds best strategy, ne'er
is an even field, someone loses.
The furnishings and ambiance, constant the unwary
yet, talented eyes espy cruises.
The vibrant and the figurative ignored the trappings
materializes oneness' enthuses.
Benumbed by skepticism facilitates a stirring, bestill
as mesmerizing coequals fuses.
Skulked fogs' ethereal coursing mauling hilltops full
as the penthouse lights dwindle.
Midst Aurora's wake a bliss wanes, as lights reclaim
the wilting as a mint thorn tingle.
The advent baffles confused as concealed cameras
videos live and reporters mingle.
Crushed stand, a ring falls, plays another team, not
alone, brace for impact, a kindle.
2022 June 22
*1st Place*
This or That, Vol 12
~~Edward Ibeh: Judging 2022 July 01
Image: Cloud Fantasy, by Susan Lawrence
On spring's green carpet I repose, revitalizing the soul
passing slow minutes pondering the sky
The lake whispers a morning meditation
as memories abound of cloud fantasies
a thousand ships of condensation dreams
Assorted sizes, shifting shapes
capriciously changing contours and colors
white, dun, pewter gray, dusky purple
magically mirroring my many moods
Fleecy, flitting, tiny, quiet, wispy cirrus all alone
like first day of school in a new town
Thunderheads colliding with cold fronts
hurling lightning in angry retribution
resolute battleships storming towards war
Stratus clouds, flat and unruffled
soothing, like grandma holding a cookie sheet
embracing landscapes like a comforting blanket
hugging hilltops in a friendly fog
Misting up at a feel good story
spilling tears on the gloomiest of days
A nimbostratus orchestra performing
a symphony of snow for mountain dwellers
a reverie of rain for desert denizens
Bouffant hairdo like a 60's prom queen
strutting across the sky adjusting her tiara
cotton ball cumulus, billowy like a verbose uncle
enhancing sunsets with colorful stories
.....
The soul of the sky is Sol-
our daylight and warmth, essence and marrow
The stars are sky's artists painting our stories-
archers, dippers, swans, seven sisters,
scorpions, lions, hunters, heroes
The heart of the sky is Luna-
a nightlight for sleepy children
a lamppost where lovers meet
a lantern for the darkest of trails
but clouds are the personality of the sky
written 24 May, 2022
//Inspired by the wonderful art of PS member Susan Lawrence, after viewing her landscape paintings at susanlawrence.net. Each landscape is framed by a different personality of cloud; I encourage all to pay a visit to her website to enjoy her portraits and abstracts as well as landscapes ~ John//
If I were allowed, just one last precious day...
Only twenty four hours, to swallow away
To fear, or to fret, what a waste of the gift
So I'll say, I'll confess, what a blessing it is
to be given this choice on how I might spend it.
This last gift bestowed, to spend as I please
Would I want to be shown, the most spectacular things?
What would I do, and how would I choose
My mind would be spinning like whirlwinds in spring
Would I run away to a tropical sun
take a brief holiday, with my hopes on the run?
My mind would be topsy, my soul would be turvy
and my heart would be yearning for those who I love
I have come to conclusion...after pondering, long
The choices, though many, aren't hard to resolve
I would spend it with loved ones, in the same, simple way
With things quite familiar, under the same morning sun
Time with my with family, so simple and fun
Laughter that rings through a house on a hill,
Hamburgers, sizzling, outside on the grill
Little ones shouting, teasing, frolicking,
Until evening breezes gather us still
In the dark on the porch, while my son plays guitar,
with a dish of ice cream, while counting the stars
Love reaching out with a unspoken sound
filling the silence, of a promise untold
Watching the sunset...in the hilltops above...
How grand is one day.... until the daylight is done....
A perfect days end..... if left with just one.....
_________________________________________________
Contest sponsored by Thomas Martin "Days"
better to be back in black
said Brett Boe
Coca-Cola for coy cat
replied Carla Coe
draw the duck down in dew
whispered Donna Doe
fries feed feisty firebugs
claims Frankie Foe
good guys grumble about golf
implies Grant Goe
hairy hilltops hide hat heroes
stated Harry Hoe
jackal junior joined the jazz jam
assured Jackie Joe
kings kneel before koala
declares Karren Koe
lonely lady lies in a lake
spoke Larry Loe
meanwhile muses moan in mud
complained Martha Moe
never nail the night in a nutshell
giggles Norma Noe
pisco for poor pigs in pubs!
shouts Paula Poe
quite quirky for quag queen
blabbed Quincy Qoe
rebel riders rule the roads
stated Ralphie Roe
only silly ships sail south
claimed Sammy Soe
triple taco tripped on telly
said Tammy Toe
violet violins vanish in vain
confirmed Vince Voe
waxy waffles weep on wire
told William Woe
Yeti yells at yummy yaks
asserts Yvonne Yoe
zig zag zone is zipped and zapped
finished Zack Zoe
Written: November 27, 2023
_____________________________________________
Upon the lower, unsophisticated surface
My shadow has arrived with a purpose.
How the blazing sun or frigid rain arrives.
How, the flight of honeybees to their hives,
Where it lies is lifeless, desolate, and bare.
The hilltops quake to the crest, unaware.
Who was the one who dreamed of the rose?
Believe not, the meteor's brilliance goes,
The sky is overcast, and clouds seem scary.
Days of sunshine and evenings are wary.
A snow speck that is moving in the air.
Everyone watches with a sneak peek stare.
Its value is tackled through a barn or hole.
The cosmos has swallowed me whole.
Narrow winds grumble through the day.
As the sun shines, grab my wings to fly away.
Often, nature—akin to us—is taken captive.
Grace of nature never fails to be attractive.
She wasn't wearing her diadem.
A sword, the ornament of which is a gem.
Not cold enough to ice
The pond in the wood frosts atop its depth
Mirror checking for fog of breath
Registers a faint life
I flinch
Cheeks flutter pink
From a narrow eye of rising sun
Peering between two scarecrow Oaks
Shadow rindles from my heels
Behind me backwards myself I kneel
In the slight daylight
Deeper breathing birthed of quiet
Rise
Take hold
From the barren cold
Universe
Through barbwire of gnarled bush
We crunch the hilltops to open fields
Dark child and lumen man
Hand in hand
To a flawless morning sky of blue
Nor even shores from where I come
Where we go
But this I know
Glint of spring guides me home.
Halleujah
I don’t think I ever asked for much except of course
pain to stop tho that’s different as asking for healings always are
between us
no today I’m praying for something not of the subsequently-to-be-seen but of the here and right now please grant me please this urgent wish to sing yes I am sure you might recall the once lovely songs I had before the age of 22 but now gone somewhere
on the wind
I need urgently it feels so to sing now again the Hallelujah hear that my lost birth-lent voice might be returned for even some minutes as my soul so peaceful in your silence however cries this hour for its so-created human voice with astounding graced talents and trills aimed for you
from the temples
beside bells the choirs on hilltops or on street corners after going door to door creating thankful smiles in hospital corridors even in humid basement rooms the singing as mine once sounding grace back
to your ears
thus I plead let me be for an hour a singer of your songs more than a writer of them let my vocal chords pierce and thrill the air resounding with the angels surrounding heaven to your glory I will sing praise
********. ********. ********. ********
(C) sally Young eslinger 12/31/2020
A blessed New Year to Poet friends & readers
Thanks be to God
Stay well
In the dusty embrace of Jharkhand’s tribal hills,
Where once vibrant green swayed like laughter in the wind,
Now the palash trees wear a shroud of soot,
A ghostly veil draped over their fiery blooms,
Once fertile earth now a canvas of neglect,
The hills stand as silent witnesses to forgotten songs.
Not long ago, the arrival of a car sparked joy,
Children, wild with wonder, chased it like shooting stars,
Now, when planes carve through the sky towards the city,
They scamper to the hilltops, hearts fluttering with dreams,
Curiosity ignites, imaginations take flight,
As if the very air whispers secrets of the skies.
Boys return home, eyes alight with questions,
When will they soar through clouds, touch the heavens?
In classrooms, tales of space unfold like cosmic tapestries,
Their visions stretch beyond earthly bounds,
A longing for the stars, ignited by flickering screens.
The mind, a precious jewel, must remain untainted,
To dream lofty dreams, to let aspirations soar,
Whether or not the stars align in their favor,
Let visions and imaginations rise above the hills,
Like eagles on the wind, unbound and free.
At the time of ethereal elegance of twilight,
Whenever a voluptuous moon
lolls low on a silvery serene sea
and gilds the canopy of trees,
the hilltops, the meandering streams
and the languorously reclining lakes.
My muse appears to me
from nowhere like a dream,
Like a flash of inspiration
to a muddled mind and
evokes moods of mystical ecstasy.
She glides gracefully towards me
like an elusive wreath of smoke
and gathers me in her embrace
like a silken robe
hovering around me
like a whiff of fragrance.
She appears as a stirring
source of fantasy and vision,
Like the magnificent Northern lights
displaying luminous draperies
on a star-spangled polar nights,
Like a spectacular rainbow burst
after an intense shower
Like a shooting star
Like a blessed apparition;
I take her, as one would,
a reluctant bride
with gentle persuasion
and resilient arms.
~Contest: My Muse
~Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
One
Bread
Was scattered
Deep in the hilltops
And came in your hands as one soul
So the church is gathered from each corner of the Earth
From broken sticks and uplifted stones, reborn by the water and flames of serene white
To become the one soul of Wisdom, dwelling deep in the mountaintops named the Pleroma, feeding on the one bread donated by Christ’s hands
Inspired by verses from the Didache: "Even as this broken bread was scattered over the hills, and was gathered together and became one, so let Thy Church be gathered together from the ends of the earth into Thy kingdom; for Thine is the glory and the power through Jesus Christ for ever."
While also adding inspuration from the Gospel of Thomas and Gospel of Philip.
Philip: "By water and fire this whole realm is purified, the visible by the visible, the hidden by the hidden. Some things are hidden by the visible. There is water within water, there is fire within the oil of anointing." "Fire is chrism. Light is fire. I do not mean ordinary fire, which has no form, but other fire, which is pure white in appearance, beautifully bright and imparting beauty."
Thomas: "Split a piece of wood, and I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there."