Long Hue Poems
Long Hue Poems. Below are the most popular long Hue by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hue poems by poem length and keyword.
I told my secret so dear to the babbling brook.
Across pebbles and stones my secret it took.
It held my secret for miles along its ebb and flow.
Once reaching a raging river, it let my secret go.
So, I whispered my secret into the grasses so high.
I heard them murmuring to each other “but why?”
I thought about my secret under a fluffy cloud.
And wondered what would happen if I told it aloud.
I thought about the repercussions, it made me cry.
I lay thinking about my secret looking up at the sky.
I decided not to divulge the secret that I will keep.
And even then, uncontrollably my eyes began to weep.
I decided to keep my truest secret, of the one I adore,
Else my treasured secret, won’t be a secret anymore.
Else my treasured secret, won’t be a secret anymore.
I’ll only tell it to the wind, as I have never done before.
The wind will carry my secret to its heights unknown
There by the wind my secret may be tossed and flown
Safely along roadways, then along a tree lined avenue.
Where no-one will ever be able to tell that secret flew
Trouble struck when dear wind took on a different form,
And passed my secret to the eye of a brewing storm.
Swirled about, flashed by lightning and by thunder struck,
Then graciously saved by a rainbow, bearing so much luck.
My secret became enhanced by colors in all kinds of hue.
Now there was absolutely nothing that I could possibly do.
So, I guess it’s the time, (I’m only guessing), it’s really true,
So, I will reveal my treasured secret to all, especially you.
So, I will reveal my treasured secret to all, especially you.
The nice thing about my secret is that it is very true.
There is something very special about this secret of mine.
I have kept it close to my heart safe, true and quite fine.
When it is time to let it be known then I shall let it slide.
I will shout from the rooftops, shout it far and most wide.
I will offer it to the universe and splendidly say it with pride.
The joy of revealing my secret will make me warm inside.
But wait, brook, pebbles, stones, grasses, river and the cloud,
The storm, rainbow, road, avenue and wind, all make a crowd..
Maybe I have told enough of my wonderful secret now.
I fear my secret is already out and quite well known somehow.
Maybe I should just let my secret known, when I write a book.
I told my secret so dear to the babbling brook.
The Monarch Who Thought He Was King
Once there was a butterfly
who fluttered by a gate.
The gate was closed, that’s when he said,
“O shucks, now I’ll be late!”
He danced and pranced and shouted
and did not hesitate,
“I demand,” he said with power,
“please, open up this gate!”
To his surprise before his eyes
the gate did open wide.
“A lovely thing; I am the king!
I’m surely qualified.
I had no choice so with my voice
the command I simplified:
‘Just open up this gate!
I need to get inside.’”
He told to all who’d hear him:
“I am the King,” he said.
While some bowed down and listened;
some would not turn their head.
They huffed and puffed and scoffed away,
“We’re sure that you misread.
To open up a gate is easy;
like falling out of bed!”
His shoulders drooped, his forehead sagged;
his eyes filled up with tears,
“You cannot make me less a king
with your scoffing and your sneers.
I am the king,” he fluffed with pride,
“the ruler of my peers.”
Then off he flew without a thought
of all their laughs and jeers.
He fluttered to a purple bush;
the hue fit for a king.
And there he sat to contemplate
and other kingly things.
“I’ll show them all; the small and tall,
and all the scoffs they bring.
A proclamation for my nation:
we’ll hold a royal fling.”
From low and high, from far and near
they gathered close to see
the monarch make his grand command
and show his identity.
A thousand monarch butterflies
watched with frivolity
with five or six ambassadors
from the queendom of the bees.
And there he came with pomp and pride
the self-made king to share
he was a monarch butterfly
and worthy of their care.
He preened his wings and listened for
the sound of his fanfare,
but all he heard was rustling wind
which threw him in the air.
He crashed and tumbled to the floor;
they could not believe their eyes.
The kingdom they had counted on
was built on fibs and lies.
The king was crumpled to the ground
ashamed in his demise.
He let the rain fall down on him
from clouds in the gray skies.
And then he woke up from his nap
and turned inside his bed.
He saw the flowers of his home
of purple, blue, and red.
Right then and there he promised
and to himself he said,
“I’ll be the best of butterflies,
than to be king instead.”
Fast steady steps but not sure where to go
Strong sturdy arms but ready to give in
Warm playful gaze with a hue of sadness
A cursing tongue
capable of sweet innocent promises
Wrap me in your arms
Hide me in your smile
But baby don’t drag me for a mile
Fill me, consummate my soul
A touch that could burn
A look of yearn
Words that could calm my spirit
An embrace that shields me
A smell that rubs off
A presence that could linger
A face that could show me the world
A being that makes life unfold before me
I wish i could be the one
Who could be with you when you are afraid
Placate your fears
Chase the dark shadows of your past
Close your wounds
Heal your scars
I want to be the one to te tell you that
Snowflakes do not taste good
That flowers do bloom in the spring
And that splinters hurt
I just want to be there for you
Make sure that your everything is going to be alright
I want to make you believe
That true love exists
I want to smother you with feathery kisses
If i can't hug you long enough
tell you I love you too often
Know that I believe in us together
Even if it can’t be all that
I have given you the rarest opportunity
To allow you to see my own beauty
All the reasons i have in me
My qualms, realms, pent up emotions
New perspective and even my uncertainties
You have reached that special part of me
Where you could hear my heart flutter
Listen to me when i say nothing a
But i mean something
When you could thrust me deep
In the night sky’s feverish theme
In return you have share with me
A place where we can confront our needs
dreams and unspoken fears
The storehouse of our hope that encompasses
The essence of who we truly are
But when i see a furrow in your brow
A glitch of sadness in those eyes
Or hear you curse and yell
Sense anger in your voice
I shudder with fear but somehow
make myself strong enough
So i could run and hold you
rock you gently
Say it's okay baby
In your world where everybody hates
a happy ending story
Let me be the one to say forever and ever
before the end
I hope time will not come when my dawn will break
Giving light to your mind that we are meant
But this time with you is not wasted in sorrow
But spent in smiles
Despite the future’s call
My case i now rest my heart i now give
Myself i surrender before my time slips
And runs out with fate.
(1.)
Alas! So Shoot Me, I Grieve What Was Lost
Alas! So shoot me, I grieve what was lost
Not just youth, but those things Time took away
Within aching heart comes an icy frost
Covering epic pains of such decay!
One may ask, how dare I so complain?
Does Nature cry about hard falling rain?
Yet does not this world its ills promote well?
Oft with sorrows borne from depths of Hell?
Dare I choose to such dark verses to write?
Have I not truly joined in the fight?
Alas! So shoot me, I grieve what was lost
Not just youth, but those things Time took away
Within aching heart comes an icy frost
Covering epic pains of such decay!
Robert J. Lindley,
Sonnet, repeat stanza ( with triple couplets )
******
(2.)
Those Lush And Tender, Soft Welcoming Lips
Those flowing curls, glowing luscious mane
Sexy smile, flowering as desert rain
Bountiful beauty, sent to ease heart's pain
Lovely blessing sent for this soul to gain.
Ravishing essence with sweet touch to match
My hesitation, thinking what is the catch
That such a beauty would now my way pass
A goddess, sweet speaking to this poor lass.
Those lush and tender, soft welcoming lips
With true beauty, grace, and curvaceous hips
Yes beauty, as could launch a thousand ships
And greatest king's treasure surely eclipse.
Those tender kisses that were sent both ways.
May we forever - remember that day!
Robert J. Lindley,
Sonnet,
( And Life, Its Journey Ever Sped Onward )
******
(3.)
Does Basking Moon Ask Strolling Stars For More
Of beauty, earth, wind and soft glowing sky
Dares this artist to weep tears asking why
Heart and soul must pay such a heavy price
And shed blood for it to ever suffice?
Does basking moon ask strolling stars for more
Space and time to heavenly night explore
And cast upon earth a much deeper hue
To inspire such in poets such as you?
Does dawn its resplendent new rays withhold
That gift, that gleaming beauty to be sold
Or Mother Nature fail to gift new birth
Or poets fail to cast beauty's true worth?
Do such quizzing queries set well in verse
Or fail as being dated and quite terse?
Robert J. Lindley,
Sonnet,
( And what of life, love and this thing we call earth ? )
Stella Williams was eight years old, living with her widowed mother-
Happily, though a bit lonely, like powder blue skies, sans sunset color.
The Williams lived in a rural area, with no child Stella's age, nearby.
A farmer in the valley, was the only neighbor, like waves of no reply.
Still, school hours were fun for Stella, like rollicking days of summer;
When plum sun, waltzed with stars of glitter, often going undercover.
Stella, at times, threw coins in their well, to wish for a special friend,
Besides the birds and blooms of beauty, and rolling hills of never end.
As faint rays forgive after furious storm, distant family came, finally;
In fancy days of dinnerplate dahlias, of gold, pink, or maroon vitality.
Stella lived in the house of empty rooms, that recollected sunny joys;
There the nostalgic past, argued with hopeful future, making no noise.
A purple path close to their front door, seemed painted with petunias;
In amethyst days of evening sparkle, and sunrises, the hue of peaches.
Numerous nightingales sang at hiigh noon, when new neighbors called;
In notable, precious moments, not ever forgotten-redolence enthralled!
'String of hearts plants,' trailed love petals, as 'oyster plant,' culled gems.
The rich pink, 'quill blooms,' shot daggers, like vexed queens, in diadems.
'Enchanting hostas' charmed summer moon, as 'elephant ears,' harked;
Then 'rising sun redbud' trees sang, with dawn on gloss petals, marked.
Stella still wandered to the well to wish, some afternoons and evenings,
As some yet gaze at mysterious stars, to uncover astrological meanings.
Stella was reading in her favorite spot, on a day of hot, persimmon sun;
And she looked up and saw a girl her age. A new friendship was begun!
Veronica was the daughter of the farmer in the dell, who was divorced;
And she was now living with him. Stella was invited to dinner, of course.
In time, Stella and her mom got to know, their nearest neighbors, well;
For Stella got her wish, when her mother married the farmer in the dell.
'The farmer in the dell.
The farmer in the dell.
Hi-ho, the derry-o!
The farmer in the dell.
The farmer takes a wife.
The farmer takes a wife.
Hi-ho, the derry-o!
The farmer takes a wife.
The wife takes a child.
The wife takes a child.
Hi-ho, the derry-o!
The wife takes a child.'
I should really be writing my essay (due tomorrow!) but I can't have this poem stand here
under my name without some well due editing. I would remove it but I feel like I have not
given the idea a fair amount of my effort.
Let me tell you the story of the man who wared with time
Let me tell you of the lying man who thought himself free from fate's monotonous rhyme:
This lying man would not a true story tell
To the masses: tales of himself in a regal crown he would sell
And they would ask: How come you here, great king?
And he would weave tales of abandoning his office for a woman's ring
Some would jeer and others cheer
But always he would smile ear to ear
At time in its grandeur he would leer
To priests he would lament of his heinous crimes, to never repeat them he swore
Begging their pity and reveling in the new skin he wore
So why, you may ask, does the liar lie of heinous acts
When he could lie of owning the grandest tracts?
And the snake of snakes would slither its tongue
And shed its skin, a coat in its closet so neatly hung
It would tell you a million tales, not one of them true
And never itself shed in any hue
For the flesh beneath may be soft and fickle
But the skin above is always rough and brittle
The flesh beneath once shed, would still the beating of his heart
The skin above once shed, would instill in his life immortality, the one true art
And always the happiest man alive he would be
Living the lives of any man his mind could see
And so the lying man would not a true story tell
The lying man would lie till the day he fell
That day the king of kings dies
The day the criminal meets his demise
While the lying man that was lives on in every story
As friends and foe would debate the king's glory
All the while the lying man that is sinks deeper into his grave
And that priest would remember a criminal who only mercy did he crave
And that coat of skins would weaken and tumble
The skins within gone brittle and begun to crumble
As the lying man that was, flesh and vulnerability, decays
All those skins he left behind, time will one day erase.
And so lying man, you had smiled in the face of time,
Done no great dead but steal what was theirs and mine
You had fallen thinking you had bested the clock
When only you had deafened yourself to the echo of tick tock
© Samir Georges
2010
“Freedom is just another word for nothin left to lose.
Feeling good was easy Lord, when he sang the blues” ~ Janis Joplin ~
Life was filled with laughter.
A feeling of happy ever after.
We knew each other so well.
Walking on air, a magic spell.
Nothing better than my hand in yours.
We even enjoyed doing chores.
You called me your own sweet pea.
No more joyful woman there could ever be.
People would stare as we walked down the street.
A more in love couple they couldn’t meet.
I trusted you with my life.
Tears of joy the day you asked me to be your wife.
We were going to be a family.
How proud we would be.
My heart would take flight.
At the wonderful sight,
Of you coming through the door,
Arms laden with roses galore.
I knew nothing could be better some how,
But that was then and this is now.
Life turned grey and filled with fears,
You couldn’t be with me to wipe my tears.
The sun still shines inside these prison walls.
You don’t hear when my lonely heart calls.
The sun here is a prisoner too,
And I can think of nothing but missing you.
Now I face each day alone,
And saddest of all is waking up on my own.
Chilled by the harsh steel of these prison bars.
No windows to seek countenance from the stars.
You can’t bring me roses, they won’t survive.
I sometimes feel that I am no longer alive.
You have lost your own true sweet pea.
No more hope of us having a family.
Cause that was then and this is now.
One mistake changed it all some how.
I don’t see beyond all the tears.
Your wife to be, will be here for years.
Freedom is gone and I carry on.
Wings clipped like a flightless swan.
Some days I see the sun’s bright hue.
But the sun in here is a prisoner too.
Covered with your mantle you spirited me away
that form held my emotion held me in its sway
herefore you could view me soul as clear as glass
wish do I its movements desire never it to pass
Vision upon vision opened mine eyes to see
need to build this life for all of humanity
I want to take your hand and lead you to the door
fill you with inspiration and lift you even more
I can build a ballroom much greater in my mind
dance upon marbled floors the room I did design
where the frames are gilded with silver and with gold
here the strings of harps the listeners ears enfold
I want to take every pain from you away
and when you wake tomorrow for nothing more to pray
want you to understand I wrote this just for you
ever seek your happiness where Love’s unbroken true
I never want you lingering in the house of vain
I want to see you dancing with joy in life’s refrain
to paint with every color and play with every hue
to wake with a song in heart and share the things you do
If I could but reach you and your spirit mend
shelter all your feelings your life would I defend
I would give you blue skies the mists of gentle rain
flowers in the springtime an earth that’s rich in grain
But someone has already given all these gifts
meant them for everyone and not as man permits
but you must keep seeking to fill yourself in kind
always to be generous in actions and in mind
To find a fluent master who can teach you the right way
examine all of learning apply it in every day
from a little seedling did the tree of knowledge grow
until you can reach for life and the beauty of it know
When you think your well is empty
and the depths within are dry
get up and seek the water
and to its sources fly
don’t linger in the darkness
and traditions that are blind
in life to be exalting
but you its paths must find
Life is a kind of music
and fathomless its array
it takes time and practice
to master the chords you’ll play
Take in life’s instruction
examine all in it that’s good
make your heart and mind the temple
and its teachings understood
COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC?
To be different is your superpower,
An incantation hidden in the heart of midnight,
A silver vein in the dark fabric of the world,
Where dreams whisper ancient secrets and reality slips through veils of mist.
In the flow of consciousness, I lose myself in the labyrinth of the mind,
Where your inner gardens bloom in unknown colors,
Each petal, a symbol of your distinctive magic,
Among the shadows of conformity, you are a shooting star often lighting up the sky.
In the depths of my being, where silence carries ancient echoes,
I find reflections of your presence, a dance of light and darkness,
In this rigid world, you are a flowing stream of gold,
An eternally burning flame, bursting with power and mystery,
Your brilliance flowing from every step on the cosmic sands.
To be different is like a dream from another dimension,
Turning time into an eternal rainbow,
With every gesture, you break the patterns of normality,
Leaving behind a trace of unknown magic and eros.
In this universe of straight lines and rigor,
You are a magician of unwritten truths,
A storm of words and emotions defying the gravity of the ordinary,
Each thought a bow of circles, each breath an incantation.
The world wears its masks of humble uniformity, but you are the multicolored stained glass,
Every hue, every shadow of your being,
Forming a mosaic that unfolds only in the moonlight,
A story seen only in the eyes of those who lose themselves in your depth.
You are a fountain of mysteries beneath the core of the earth,
Your invisible current felt beneath the common surface of existence,
Teaching the roots of an enchanted forest that blooms at your touch.
You are that wave that shatters the rocks of conventions,
An eternal call to authenticity.
Your different magic weaves lights and shadows into boundless landscapes,
A reality anchored in myths and profound dreams, fulfilling you in unison,
Showing us that in your singularity, lies the power to shape worlds.
In the flow of consciousness, I always return to your essence,
Where rigid lines unravel into endless spirals,
And I recognize that to be different is a sublime gift,
A mystical poem written on the edge of eternity, where desires become light,
Flowing through the veins of a world that never ceases to transform,
In a melancholic dance of the divine and the magic that embraces us.
Absolutely enchanting I thought ~
As I drew the curtains wider, to allow in a bit more light....
Returning unto the canvas and dipping my brush
Into a slightly brighter shade of beige
Thinking perhaps just a touch more violet, a dab of red, and, a stroke of amber
Until, I heard the door bell ring, breaking, this mesmerized trance....
Sitting my palette down, and lying my brush aside, atop a colored cloth
I turned to see who it was, that was there?
"Hold on dear, I shall be right back," I whispered
As she smiled amid a radiance, that stopped me within my steps
How rarely seldom does one get a chance like this I thought?
If it is truly important and I know them
Then they shall kindly call, or possibly even leave myself a note
Besides, what an unpleasant reflection it would be, to even but for an instant
Interrupt this dream....
For no greater beauty have I ever beheld, nor have I ever found, then this
Perfection within everyway I believe, is whom she is ~
"What's wrong," she asked, "are you not going to see who it is?"
Glistening eyes, as I fixated upon her own, mirrors, of an endless hue
"No, not right now dear," as I then, poured her a drink
Smiling as she gracefully arose, proposing a toast I said
"To this moment, this day, to you and I, this time, and, amore"....
As I slowly reached forth my hand, to tenderly caress her rosen cheek
And to glide my fingers gently, through her shining auburn hair
"Here dear," leading her loveliness softly, "here, sit right there
That the sunlight may embrace your boundless beauty
This magnificence of your splendor, these wonders, from whom you truly are" ~
Glowingly she smiled once more, as with a passion, I then kissed her perfect lips
"I love you," she uttered
While as the mornings dew lit rays, reflected upon her enchantedness
As a glittering arose about my own heart, and a warming, within my now raptured soul
"So do I my love, I love you more," I returned
Retrieving my brush, my palette and my cloth
Exchanging glances amid knowing thoughts, these souls, so intertwined ~
"Excellent, do not move dear"
As always was captured forever, within, this moment right here....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Painting, Mona Lisa ~
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