Long Holding out Poems
Long Holding out Poems. Below are the most popular long Holding out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Holding out poems by poem length and keyword.
The Man in the Moon
His face shown bright this summer night
while hanging in the sky,
and all the while his golden smile
did friendliness imply.
He saw her there, a lass so fair,
just sitting by herself;
without a lad, and looking sad,
wall flower on a shelf.
“And why my dear, just sitting here”
he softly asked the girl,
“on night so bright, it’s just not right
for thoughts of life to swirl.”
“I’m on my own, and all alone,”
she answered with a sigh,
“no one to keep me company,
I feel like I could cry.”
The moon replied, “Don’t be denied,
there’s love out to be found.
My dearest one, don’t come undone
no tears upon the ground.
Rise to your feet this night to greet,
a world that’s full of mirth.
Don’t be so blind, go out and find
the measure of your worth.”
To all behold this orb of gold
who’s holding out his hand,
while shining bright this summer night,
and smiling on the land.
July 5, 2019
walking my dog
looking across
and over mountains
a breath taking view
blue skies
white fluffy
clouds floating
i began patting
my dogs head
feeling so lonely
loosing myself
inside the mind
just gave the dog
a great big hug
sweet sadness
carried on a fresh breeze
feeling the yawning
in the silence of beauty
sweeping inside
holding out the key
standing thinking
of one beautiful rose
blushing angels
sparkling thoughts
sharing spring time
sheep lambing
listening to the bleats
of the baby lambs
my eyes they spot
a bunch of primroses
plucking one
gently putting
it to my nose
pictures flashed
in this mind
i began smiling
looking at such love
a dream in the soft
gentle fragrance
scenting such beauty
floating spring breeze
tear drops fall
smiling deeply
i never stop loving
until the end
i deserve to be happy
listening to birds
softly singing a sweet song
blowing in
a mountain breeze
tasting spring
floating upon air
oh how i await
that gentle dream beauty
who softy sweeps
over this ocean
on wings
of an angel
~ ~ ~ ~
I was called
to bring the Sacrament
to a woman in fear
with a nurse as chaperone
who earlier had guided her
to the Hospital Chapel
for fear of meeting a man
fear triggered
by the gravity of past abuse.
The Sacrament of the presence
of Jesus abused
received
tentatively I said
“Shall we shake hands?”
She looked down
said nothing
I turned to leave.
With my back turned
I heard the nurse
“She's holding out her hand
she wants you to shake it.”
Her hand was trembling
I held it very lightly
very briefly.
To the nurse she said
in amazement
“I've shaken a man's hand!
I've shaken a man's hand!”
Praise be to God
for a sacrament with healing.
A strong and privileged memory from 25 years ago.
I woke in the backseat ‘cause sleeping is what I did - -
I hid when we had a many state, family vacation ride.
Daddy said that this time, we would drive straight thru five.
Mama’s hair back was smashed headrest flat cause Sis
pressed against her and they were sleeping like that.
Brother was pressing his back window with his face,
his nose smearing glass, his amusement surely in place.
Dad was focused on a radio baseball game.
Seeing all was good, I found my travel toy case
for safe car play. In no time, pretending took me away.
Soon, noise-crazy frightening, sound attacked and blurred.
“WHAT IN THE WORLD!” was Dad’s first reaction heard.
A lot of horns HONKED with urge, several SWERVED,
two almost BANG converged, others FLEW off the road.
Sirens blared, well-lit, brakes were hit, Dad cussed a fit,
Mama and sis stirred. Mama murmured something like ‘absurd’,
While Dad let loose the worst of his really bad, ugly words.
Quickly, I let go of the toy I was holding out my window.
Who knew Slinky's at eighty miles per hour weren’t simple?
Then, without uttering a single concern,
I faked sleep as though I’d never emerged.
For hours my parents could be heard wondering
what had caused traffic to be so disturbed
and thanking God our family wasn’t hurt.
Walked through the woods today, I heard the most miraculous melody. So I ventured towards the direction of this beautiful music.
As I approached I saw a bard playing a lute as if angels were singing.
He was surrounded by all kinds of critters and birds, one even sitting on the head of the lute. I wished not to disturb them, so I crouched down behind a tall oak tree, as soon as I did, the bard sang out, “hello friend, why don’t you join us?” Surprised at his awareness of my presence, I stayed silent.
He then placed his lute against the log he was sitting on and said, “come, come join us.” Reluctantly I slowly and warily approached the log with moss on it that he was sitting on.
So I sat beside him and asked, “are you a magician of some kind?” He laughed and retorted, “no, I am just one with this forest of beings. then holding out his hands with strange looking mushrooms, he said, “take these, for these will allow to see the faerie land that I live in.” Hesitatingly, I thought why not!
So I took them, and within 15 minutes or so I was transformed into another realm. one where faeries were flying all over the place. And then the king of faeries, Duran, approached me saying, “so what do you think of our real world “? He then added, “there are many worlds that you have not discovered yet, but at least you now know there is more than one.”
White Wolf
INDIAN INK
Indian Accent, form the whispers inside
Chanting from long ago
Echoes come and go
Losing time in a soft eternal glow
A beautiful and delicate autumn mountain scene
Dry blue eyes enchanting melodies!
Voices fall from the sky, rising hymns release
ancient demons CLINGING to the SOUL!
Darkness dwells under - gentle moonlight
Ancestors of the Spirit World!
Weaving Native smoke into the barren air
Indian spirits haunt the muddy Earth
Moccasin makers rise from underneath,
While guardians of dream catchers - print the Universe
Smooth thread from the outer world.
Arrowheads, Ivory gems, feathers, and illusions
I stumble upon a florid kiss....... My veins!
Run cold, like ice through a desert night.
Winds of enchanted drums - cry out for rain
Hollow chimes mesmerize, my ties, my eyes
An ancient rage begins to flare --- MADNESS!
takes place among the sanity of who I am
The spear of perfumed buffalo scrapes my skin
I remove the veil that covers my eyes
The hands that cover my ears
Drying the scalp that bleeds on my face
KINDRED IN EVERY WAY!
Raven silk braids and feathers on my hair
Dancing in a horrid hallucination of Peyote,
Waking up from the “American Dream.”
Holding out my arms, I am free, I can fly,
I AM A BIRD!
I had not seen her since she was a baby
her mother wanted to name her Naomi
in Japanese this meant straight, direct and beautiful
her father was holding out for Himari, after her mother
Himari means sunflower
Himari had been a marvelous little girl
a curious risk taker who loved life
she had an enthusiastic need to learn new things
at twenty-eight she showed continuing intelligence
we met, and she was polite, pleasant, and brilliant
I told her stories about her parents, and she was grateful.
She rarely met people who knew them before they knew her.
I remarked on her glorious eyes and her marvelous listening skills.
She was the best lunch partner I had ever known.
I knew I would never forget her and I never have.
Shebra was a luxury he could ill afford.
Expensive tastes, and wanted designer clothes.
Her shoes cost him a week’s salary.
But he was tired of paying child support anyway.
She is a ho, one of his friends said.
You are jealous, he answered. She is a call girl.
You have to pay her right?
He refused to say.
Merry Christmas said his friend.
Ho Ho Ho he replied, trying to be funny.
Later regretting that he had bought into the tease.
That will be a hundred and fifty, she told him.
I didn’t even get a kiss, he argued.
Hookers don’t kiss, she said.
But you are a call girl, aren’t you? He asked.
Ho ho ho, she said, winking and holding out her hand.
Burning like fever in the spring
our love affair was on the wing
then drifted away on the summer wind
now I'm thinking of you
how good it used to be
holding on to precious memories
and every teardrop has a tale to tell
every teardrop fills a wishing well
changing like autumn leaves that fall
your love it comes and goes
then melts away with the winter snows
and I'm dreaming of you
things we used to do
holding out for those eyes of blue
and every teardrop it blinds reminds
every little teardrop brings me back to you
would that I could
say the words to mend
the heartache heartbreak
of this summer's end
Speed dating if you're a senior , can be an ordeal.
But it would be so nice to have someone to share a meal.
So we get gussied up and head for the venue
and wait for the first gentleman to come into view.
And the first to sit down has ears like Mr. Spock
and the second one is wearing fuzzy socks and crocs.
Five minutes with each is more than enough
as they try to impress us and strut their stuff.
Of course, we're all older and set in our ways
but all of us know we have limited days.
Still we are picky, holding out for Mr. Right.
It may be called Speed dating but it takes most of the night.
So check marks and smiles and X's for a few ,
but we all tough it out hoping to meet someone who
will be the right fit, a gentleman and a scholar.
Not someone who's deaf so we all need to holler .
Now the guy with those ears might just win " best in show"
and the socks and crocs guy, he'll just have to go .
We say our goodbyes and hope we've impressed
and we didn't waste our time getting so carefully dressed.
So at the end of the evening we hand in our notes
with those crosses and ticks to be tallied by hosts ,
and then we go home and hopefully wait
for some tick marks to match so we'll finally get a date .