Long Imaginationnight Poems
Long Imaginationnight Poems. Below are the most popular long Imaginationnight by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Imaginationnight poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh Moonbeam
As your diaphanous folds envelop my face …
A singing wind heralds your arrival
Trees swaying in time with her tempo
Leaves the instruments of natures symphony
Rustle in time with earths choir …
My Grey negative retreat
Turned into a slight blue heaven …
Illuminating
the most trivial of novelties
coming alive at rays first kiss
Light unfettered by earths embrace
Magi in the night …
Man in the moon
Laughing gleefully at his delusion …
My companion in the night
trusted friend I feel wanting at your void
Grey night overwhelms your hold
luster fades and darkness conquers
Your burnished blue brilliance …
Moonlight
Potent enchantment of radiance …
Returning to embrace and enlighten
euphoria a cold blue tendril
Enliven a world
bereft of illumination
bringing magic
moonlights great performance …
Oh Moonbeam
your delicate blue kiss warms a soul …
Just a night… simply another night
A night without thoughts, without love, without dreams
A night then… perhaps to hide
A place from oneself without myself from simply within
Music with a touch to chill
A drink to quench to every heart’s content
A feeling lesser or more then surreal
Is there time meaning more then meant?
Thoughts as light as it should be
Feelings to stray into the far corners of the night
Simply a time to never know there ever is a me
A time where secrets aren’t secrets to ever hide
Lost in sensation only within to create
Only myself to know my desires are fed well
Timeless into the dark of darkness never late
So much of things yet much lesser to tell
Just a night… never more to hide
A night in thoughts, in love and in dreams
A night then… perhaps a night
A place I once belong without myself from within
There is a common remedy for those who wish to sleep
They recommend to close your eyes and count imagined sheep
Just lie down and think of them lined up in single file
And count them bouncing one by one over a farmer's stile.
Sheep are very docile many hopeful sleepers find
And easily controlled by a less than wakeful mind
But yet there is a number who find the task a toll
Which does not help them sleep at all, because they lose control.
Their sheep are unco-operative: they do not jump on cue
They're likely to do other things that sheep just should not do
They play leap-frog and some hang-glide or tunnel underground
Or make the counting difficult by shuffling around.
So, many lie awake at night and hear the ticking clock
Counting down the hours as they struggle with their flock
All alone they battle long through till the morning's light
The sad and unsuccessful sleepless shepherds of the night.
Barely awake they suffer by the sleepless light of day
By night they try to slumber while their sheep cavort and play
Their woollen nerves warped, wefted, on fragile mental looms
They alternate sleep therapy with doctor’s waiting rooms.
So, if you are the fortunate and get your eight hours sleep
Be grateful for your fortune and your well disported sheep
And give a thought for others, who are not so kindly blessed
Whose sheep are so unruly and whose sleep is so distressed.
Rosie played the Hammond Organ at the church
This week she left us in a real lurch
For Rosie went off with one of those vaccum salesmen
Who turned her eye wearing Spandex boxer shorts on tight skin
The choir director will be in dire straits
Because a mouse built his house in the organ with his mate
We placed a listern soaked tissue in there
Hoping it will stink those meese away __that pair
Now Rosie's husband is one medicine for insomnia and emotional pain
He's drifting in and out of being nearly insane
I heard some tid bits the other day
At the convention for women only what can I say
Well this is it, "Rosie's now playing gigs
At the "Wormholes" all night club where truckers park their own rig."
It's right next to those lunar craters
Where in their kitchen at night the vacuum salesman peels potatoes
That night they saw a UFO land and steal nuclear waste
And this was beyond half-past eight
When Rosie wined and dined her friends
She told them the whole weird story..The End..
Believe it or not your choice....
Haunted feelings carried by
Wings of night as shadows fly
Drip drop words from pages then
Feed the fire like oxygen
Muffled voices through the door
Phrases heard once long before
Rhythm opened eyes now see
Lost forgotten parts of me
Black on white then white again
Ghostly paths to where I’ve been
Keys then press themselves to say
Things I want to hide away
Lowered hands at last let go
Worried worlds lie far below
Rising vantage ever on
Poem by poem and song by song
Dusted dancing leads to lead
Fast descent to slumber’s bed
Dawn of light and break of day
Melts the night mist fast away
But drifting silent to the floor
Are pages…as they were before
…Jeff Bresee
With a heart feeling dry
Another day has begone with a sigh
A closure I’m to forsake to pry
Only to yearn a night to feel as high
As beautiful it be as let be
Like blood upon fallen snow
A night to become, a night to see
Drinking liqueurs while embracing the cold
With music as well to in tune
Of fancy foot-works upon the floor
A neverending time to assume
To imbue with moments to forever recall
Innocence in clarity, pureness in tranquility
To cultivate, to activate, to motivate, to stimulate
Beauty in melody, musical in serenity
Of late to only await, of love and of hate
Perhaps the night has an awakening!
A night never for all to simply experience
And of times, they do belong in dreams
And sometimes even, to belong in absolute silence