Long Hydrated Poems
Long Hydrated Poems. Below are the most popular long Hydrated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hydrated poems by poem length and keyword.
#YO! MY SOUL ACHES IN LONGING FOR MORE INSTRUMENTATION THAT MASSAGES, SOOTHES AND BRINGS A SPECIAL SOLACE THAT I NEED...
THIS IS WHAT "ADRIAN'S THEME" BRINGS TO ME!
CLOSE YOUR EYES AND IMAGINE, DIVING INTO A WARM SEA ENCOUNTERING IMAGES OF VIVID COLORED CORAL AND ROCK...
PLUM/ORANGE/TURQUOISE & BLACKBERRY. AS WELL, A NEWLY DISCOVERED HUE POPS OUT IN THIS TERRITORY, OH SUCH ENVELOPING GLORY! AWAKENINGS YOU'VE NEVER KNEW EXISTED IN THIS STORY...
YOU SEE SEALIFE YOU'VE NEVER SEEN BEFORE, BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! ! !
IN THIS IMAGINATION, YOU'RE ABLE TO BREATHE, SLOWLY EXPLORE, TO TRULY LET YOURSELF GO! IN THE MIDST, YOU HEAR YOUR FAVORITE INSTRUMENTATION...
THIS ARRANGEMENT BRINGS YOU AN OUT OF BODY SENSATION, AND ITS A
B L I S S YOU'D NEVER THOUGHT POSSIBLE! ! !
THE CHORDS AND NOTES TAKES YOU ON A JOURNEY "JUST FOR YOU" AND THIS IMMERSION OF SOUND AND SOLACE IS SO STUPENDOUS...THAT YOU NEVER WANT IT TO END. IT FEELS SO PHENOMENAL AND YOUR ELATION IS LATER REPORTED AS JUST TREMENDOUS! "HOW WONDROUS!!!"
ANYTIME AN INSTRUMENTAL GIFT, WHERE WORDS ARE SILENCED BUT OUR SPIRIT IS SPEAKING OUT, CRYING OUT...
FEED ME! LEAD ME! PROCEED WITH ME!
NOTHING ELSE CAN QUENCH MY THIRST THE WAY YOU MUSICALLY HAVE HYDRATED MY DRIEST, DEEPEST, DEPTHS OF ME!
NOTHING CAN COMPARE TO THEE, IT'S A SATURATION OF SUPERB IMMENSITY!
IT'S REACHED SPIRITUAL LISTENING...
AND THIS IS MY TRIBUTE TO A DEEP DIVE, UNKNOWN PARTS OF ME CAME ALIVE...
"ADRIAN'S THEME" PLEASE TAKE A LISTEN, IT'S SUPREME! I UNDERSTAND MUSIC IS SUBJECTIVE...
HOWEVER,
WHATEVER YOUR SONG OF CHOICE, WITH OR WITHOUT VOICE...
LET ME KNOW, WHAT IS Y O U R SPIRITUAL LISTENING AND ANSWERING* ELECTIVE?
YO! "I'D REALLY APPRECIATE TO KNOW!"
MEANWHILE, I'M GOING BACK DEEP DIVING, EACH TIME IS A NEW EXPERIENCE AND TAKEAWAY, NOTHING CAN MATCH SUCH A PERSONAL V I B I N G...
IT'S AN UNFORGETTABLE DESCRIBING!
INDEED.
Renee D Gross {GHPPR} October 19, 2023#
referred to as
a creation
where lovers
enjoy what they eat
something greater and grandeur
than something ordinary
................................................
6 pork chops
1 tablespoon of cumin
1 tablespoon of garlic powder
2 tablespoons of cayenne
1 tablespoon of onion powder
1 tablespoon of celery salt
4 tablespoons of cornstarch
1 tablespoon of ground ginger
1/4 cup of flour
7 tablespoons of olive oil
..............................................
mix together seasonings and cornstarch and flour
dredge equal parts on both sides of the pork
fry golden brown to each side and place in a oven until done.
................................................
2 cups of Greek yogurt
1 large cucumber peeled and diced
1/2 cup of granny smith apples
1/4 hydrated onions
1/4 cup of chopped dill
salt
and black pepper
3 tablespoons of olive oil
mix and allow to sit at room temperature.
.......................................
2 cups of chickpeas ( smashed0
1/2 cup of green onion
1/2 of smoked fish (flaked)
2 tablespoons of lemon juice
1 tablespoon of cayenne pepper
1/4 cup of chopped mustard greens ( cooked," Glory brand")
1 egg yolk
1/4 cup of diced green pepper
2 cups of Mixed, olive oil and corn oil(for frying)
mix all ingredients, if the mixture is not stiff enough to make into balls add more chick peas, allow the chickpea mixture to chill, fry until golden brown
.................................................................................
7 yellow squash
cut into medallions
1/4 cup of olive oil
to coat the squash, sprinkle McCormick's spicy seasoning and grill
until soft. Serve with pork, yogurt and Chick Peas!
grill
April showers…
so welcomed
when our winter's
gone and done.
Snow dissolved
into the ground
to now await
the springtime sun.
Trees lift up
dry resting limbs,
wait for water
to awake
their dormant
curled up buds...
thirst-quenching
gift they take.
April showers
bring new flowers
sustenance
to help them grow;
hydrated soil,
nutrients
seep into
their new life flow.
Before our eyes
blooms unfold…
their lovely scene!
April showers
majestically
fulfill spring's dream.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Anacreontic Verse 3
Sponsor: Edward Ebbs
Theme: April Showers May Bring Flowers
Judged: 04/27/2016
We melt into the hotness of God's will.
Sun's solar power in all directions.
Nothing is moving. The oak trees are still.
Air is muggy per June's imperfections.
Blue green hummingbird seeks sweet summer snack.
Tiny frog heads toward cat's water bowl.
Thirsty wildlife hunts lake or stream, no slack.
Being hydrated the ultimate goal.
Grass died, now turning a furious brown.
Flowers have shriveled, crushed inward now too.
There is no moistness on flowers or ground.
Muggy in Kansas where people have flu.
Cardinals look for light places to bathe.
Farmer prays for crop, corn heads to the grave.
If you are daring, strong of will and character, not adverse to hardship
or to long treks into the wild then the 40 day virtual walk
along the Appalachian way is the adventure for you!
Explore hill country all the way from Georgia to Main without ever leaving your Lazy Zee Boy. Each day, trudge, walk scrabble and climb, making camp in the open or in the rugged huts sometimes provided for long distant walkers. You must go forward in all weathers so bring suitable clothing.
No soft bed for you. A sleeping bag on the Livingroom floor is essential.
Grow a beard. Provide a bucket and some dry leaves for when nature calls, leave them behind the sofa. Turn off the air con.
After 20 days you will stink and so will your home, and you may suffer from sores on you buttocks, bring creams. inform the neighbors of your absence, take a cell phone take hundreds of pics of you staring into the distance.
In your backpack all the food you could carry is going stale,
eat it anyway and ration the meat jerky. Stay hydrated
drink from a large barrel you keep nearby.
You cannot switch the walk off until completed. At night keep the
headphones on so you can listen the sounds of the wild woods
as you toss and turn.
At the crack of dawn carry steadfastly on.
You have almost made it, now you are virtually stumbling
down from the last ridge but then disaster strikes your youngest
enters the room to switch on a cartoon!
Your official certificate will now always read 'failed'
and not long after your heroic walk your wife will leave you
departing angrily with her own virtual boyfriend.
I will always remember those uneven paths,
which led me to you -
sorrowful reminder of promises I could not keep.
All you wanted was to sit with me for a while,
to talk and maybe try to make me smile.
Yet fate did not let us share the stars,
not even for one night - now there is only darkness.
I will never forget,
how you would sit under the sage green veranda,
sipping on your sweet tea, laughing and chatting away.
Many would sit and listen to your non fiction tales
about when the air was clean and the fields were green,
childhood mischief and forgotten memories.
I'll always remember that glint in your eyes,
the warmth in your smile and that sui generis voice.
Especially when parades of birds would chirp at dawn
and when gazing at fireflies flickering under lanterns at dusk.
The veranda is now silent,
but grandma still calls your name.
The aroma from those abundance of petals still lingers,
but your scent does not appear.
Berries still appear from your affluent olive trees,
but they shall never be hydrated by your hands.
Sweet jasmine still climbs up veranda poles,
maybe trying to reach heaven, to be with you.
Your last words will always live with me:
"Come sit with me, even just for a couple of days."
but the next day you were gone...
Dedicated to my grandfather.
1930 - 18 August 2018.
Silent One
26 August 2018
Awake, waiting to bloom
in the warm, balmy sunshine,
and eager to begin their cycle,
stems lift their precious cargo
towards the life-giving light.
Slowly, velvety petals,
of all shapes, sizes, colors,
unfold, like open hands
reaching up and out to bask
in the radiance of the Sun.
All the waiting, now fulfilled
with matured, lush growth;
roots drawing in sustenance
hydrated with quenching rain
and sparkling morning dew-
living miracles that eventually
will wither, dry up, and fall.
Yet, left behind, buried in roots,
the unending cycle of life
that awakens every Spring-
by nature's miraculous algorithm.
April 24, 2018
~3rd Place~
Premiere Contest: Nature Poetry
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Judged: 05/11/2021
~Honorable Mention~
Contest: Spring
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Judged: 04/29/2018
Grief is harsh and hard on the body and soul
Eating comfort food has packed on the pounds
Nutrition will be something that I focus on this year
Tears are cleansing, but they intrude at all times, I will try to be gentle with myself
Leaning into friends and family, who encourage me to be healthy
Easing my heavy heart by taking care of myself
God is with me every step of the way, and I continue to lean on him
Reading is hard for me, but I can listen. Listen to audiobooks, friends, and God's voice
Intake of fluids keeps me hydrated and a cup of hot tea is good for the soul
Exercise will help the stress of grief and burn the calories I stored up
Vivid colors, and sunshine in nature are a pick me up for a grieving heart
Intake of breath, when the world spins, will help you find your footing again
Never taking your mind off the goal of a life well lived and eternity in heaven
Giving to others who are hurting, helps to heal my shattered heart
I tried to create a poetic dream,
to fulfill our promise,
but we became a victim
to fate's wounding ways.
My flower garden lies in ruins,
suffering in silence -
my lips unable to kiss her back to life.
In the demise of our destiny,
there is no reincarnation.
Hope fades with each withering petal,
perishing to our unfulfilled vow.
Stench of regret pollutes dark, damp air.
Winds wander, weeping woefully,
whispering condolences for our tragedy.
Delicately, as if it was your soul,
I place the last blooming rose,
close to my heart -
hoping, one day,
to reunite it with you.
I can see butterflies,
drowning in puddles of lament -
helpless in this unforeseen storm.
I sense the angst of disorientated bees.
Their queen deprived of nectar,
they pine in distress -
yearning to be close to her.
Sun rises, veiled in a black blanket.
Birds sing songs of sorrow,
soaking in sombre sadness.
A mournful chorus,
which only increases the pain.
Her image reflects through my eyes.
Her voice echoes in my mind.
I crave for darkness, tired of shadows,
look to the heavens....
Wondering why?
In this dead end of dreams,
soul bangs against my chest,
crying like stinging winter rain.
I collect each sacred tear,
to keep our last rose hydrated -
to lay it upon your resting place.
A promise has no guarantee.
A poet's pen cannot create forever...
Third and final part to my 'Promise' trilogy
Simple Musing
Silent One
6 June 2020
That Imperious Urge
He said the Golden Years are all the rage
Aye, it was more a shuffling two-step dance
thus did I run to greet this coming craze
of those just old enough to take the chance.
Classes I assumed would teach the Rumba
my glasses and my hearing aid – but props
bones that clatter in pursuit of Zumba
gyrations fear – the racket will not stop.
Trapped amid memories in the attic
my doctors say I must stay hydrated
now that I’m a homebound geriatric
my bladder feels constantly inflated.
Thus do I stand and wait for water flow
to quell the urge that said I had to go.
9/16/2016
submitted to – Which of the Four Would You Choose – Poetry Contest