Long Ingenue Poems

Long Ingenue Poems. Below are the most popular long Ingenue by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ingenue poems by poem length and keyword.


The Meeting

The glamour of her skin faded
 like late-afternoon sunbeams 
that settled  on rose petals 'dust

But , not the light in her wide chatoyant eyes
That light was still  glowing bright
Like a  freshly washed white frock of an ingenue child
A child who knew, each flutter of a butterfly churning deep inside
was to be preserved  for this ineffable  day. 
Today , the day She was to greet 'the one '
Down the valley , by the orchid tree
where minutes ticked seconds and time.

For so long , She waited for this moment
to  turn and find him there , to look him in those eyes
 Eyes circled with wrinkles of loss and laughter
of many deaths and life.


His demure maiden . The cynosure  who filled his thoughts
without even knowing  how or why ,  For weeks, months, and  years
Was She there by his side ,or was this another betraying vision 
of the lissome lady's smile ?

It was her voice . It was the mellifluous  sound of her song
lulling him into  sleep.This was not Endymion's dream
Nor an unheard wish  on spumes of falling stars.
This was the warmth of his breath upon her neck's nape
It was their once so vacant hearts , beating one to one.

It was their holding of hands, their first promised dance.
A panacea to a long term desease of loss , and loss again.

A new chapter  -to be continued. 
A sempiternal journey  of what little time remains. 
Trembling hands ,Scribbling verses on hopskotch 
Alll ending with  the same repeated names
 and unforgettable joyous refrains. 



Thanks for the ten words challenge S.One
1) Glamour , 2) Chatoyant,  3) Igenue , 4) ineffable , 5) demure
6) Sempiternal , 7) panacea, 8) mellifluous,  9 )lissome , 10) cynosure


Who wants to know the meaning of all these ten words
pls read S. One 's ten word challenge poem.


Fiction Poem


Premium Member 'Enchantress' by Somov

Upon a harlequin floored stage
a ghostly figure rises amidst vapors
or perhaps it's my dulled imagination
after sipping hot Hibiscus tea ~

No starry starry night
   only darkness foreshadows
    the ball of masquerades
Cloaked in gown of sanguine velvet,
  an enchantress lifts her veil
    a diaphanous disguise for her eyes
     that wish to see a lady fair ~

"Mirror, mirror," she seeks reassurance
   from the looking glass she holds dear
Expecting to hear her feminine allure
  would tempt both man and beast ~
     those who would drool and feast
       upon her tasty flesh ~ 
         hers not virginally pure

No voice does she intercept
as she embraces the ornate silver frame
but a glimpse fills her with fear ~ 
  for in horrors of hell 
     she sees her body on fire

What folly has Somov brushed
  painting strokes of her in such a scene
She was not cast in a tragedy
  that's not what her script lines read
   an enchantress' beauty lasts forever

But lo ~ the mirror is mysterious
  does not hang from wall height ~
    tis far too tall on this nefarious night
What cad is it who cleverly stands
  behind the coddled courtesan's glass?
A praying mantis or jealous ingenue
  who wants her chance to play the part
    of the engaging enchantress
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
art
Form: Ekphrasis

Anglophone Aficionado Exudes Infatuation With English Language Number 1

Versus me 
(chilling as an outsize ego freezer)
profusely perspiring 
and heavily panting
experiencing one after another 
stuff whet dreams are made
frolicking in autumn mist
(think Maxfield Parrish painting)
while skirt chasing
and playfully tackling,
a gamesome gamine with verve
mercilessly coquettish ingenue
"precociously seductive"
overgrown Lolita wannabe.

Solitude and introvertedness
mebbe made more manifest destiny
courtesy severe nasal notable twang
(otherwise known as split uvula)
yours truly wittingly drew taunts
and unutterable pang
to escape being bullied as scapegoat
entering magical world
of mine imagination
fostered learning about
all creatures great and small
by age appropriate books.

Logophile lusts ever stronger after
twenty six letter combinations
(analogously surrendering to mistress)
that yield an estimated 171,146 words
currently in use in the English language;
according to the Oxford English Dictionary,
an additional 47,156 obsolete words exist.

I luxuriate engrossed
with choice reading material
and out of desperation
to slake insatiable thirst
(to discern syllabification)
yours truly doth read aloud
intently hearing cadence
of vowels and consonants.

Up until I entered six grade
(at Henry Kline elementary -
a one classroom per grade - school)
classmates bullied, derided,
and feigned to hammer -
jabbing leering, nasty
pimping ragout as a rule
which boyhood self of mine
availed a perfect bullseye target
with combination of diminutiveness,

being painfully quiet,
essentially remaining mum the entire day
except when called upon to answer question
thence utterance emanating between lips
produced and emitted
a strong nasal sound to boot
grist for the mill
sans malice meted, mimicked,
and mocked mashup
of mine warped congestion.

The Last Picture Show



They decided early that color 
was wrong for McMurtry’s novel. 
Peter left his wife after he discovered 
Cybil on the cover of Seventeen. 
He fired her assistant, when she upset 

her by trying to run lines. He fought 
with camera men, grips, the rest 
of the crew. Cloris and Ellen got sloshed
every night, holding each other 
through spasms of grief, unable to bury

their dying marriages. Tim, still hot 
from his turn in Trumbo’s Johnny 
Got His Gun, ached for the ingenue
goddess Peter kept all to himself.

Driving her in the 48 Ford Sunchariot,
black patch bandaging his wounded 
eye, the pain comes off Tim in waves. 
Raw performers, drenched 

in disappointment and endless
hurt. The whimper of bed
springs when Sonny makes love 
to Ruth Popper. Sam the Lion losing 
his hold beside calm black water. Lois

in her cooler than cool killer black 
sunglasses and scarf, flipping off 
the town alpha. The longing in
Genevieve's broken smile. An elegy
to hope: Hank Williams wailing

(he sounds too blue to fly) ice wind 
and black dust swarming 
like a spell. Crumbs thrown 
to the hungry ghost of rejection. 
You cannot have me. 
You. Cannot. Have. Me.

Humpty Gets Bumped

envelope rhyme

Humpty Dumpty, brave fall guy
attended the King's Christmas ball.
He never guessed his downfall,
empty headed, brain gone awry.

Humpty Dumpty's sneaky try,
bucking the Queen's serving line,
“Expelled! out back, you shall dine!”
close by yon royal pig sty. 

Humpty Dump, give us a clue,
"Why did you behave so rudely?"
Your etiquette, so crudely
like a simple, naïve ingenue.

Humpty Dumpty then stone-walled
devouring a dozen eggs
plus twenty-four chicken legs 
Sprawled thither on stone wall, he stalled.

Thus, Humpty Dumpty got bumped,
a bold nudge from one palace horse:
"Noble king cannot endorse
a cannibal, so totally stumped.”

December 17, 2019


Goodbye Mother - Soon a Dozen Years Since Demise

Her cremated ashes scattered to all the four winds
White, powdery and chalk like material
Devoid of any vestigial semblance 
To her once living and vibrant self
That unique persona pulverized and vaporized
(Housed former svelte and tall Arthur Murray 
Ballroom dance teacher 
A half-century plus prior to demise
Which beauty, charm and grace 
Quickly caught the attention of my father,
Who courted and eventually proposed 
To this young flirt and ingenue tease of a gal)
Inert organic matter now represents 
Sole residual embodiment 
Reduced to dust and near nothingness
Former corporeal being of blood, bone and flesh 
Weighing no more than 
A dozen hatch marks on the scale
Absence still bears down heavy 
Like some millstone round the neck
Per the black hole void 
Created by defeat with Grim Reaper
Toward this woman 
Who helped birth and nurse me into manhood
Momma’s only grown son 
Still feel ripples of grievous sadness
No matter the years of suppressed anger and rage
In addition to emotional conflicts between us 
Which invariably wrought unpleasant relationship
And a legacy of discord writ large 
Across the tapestry of my life.
Form: Elegy

Premium Member A Lovely Creature-10 Word Challenge

Chatoyant: Having a changeable luster. A chatoyant stone or gemstone, such as the cat's-eye.
Cynosure: Something or someone who is the centre of attention.
Demure: shy and modest 
Glamour: defined as the elegant, exciting or attractive quality that makes someone or something seem special or desirable.
Ineffable: too overwhelming to be expressed or described in words; inexpressible
Ingénue: A naive, innocent girl or young woman
Lissome: Moving or able to move with grace and ease; lithe and graceful
Mellifluous: something musical, melodious or pleasant to hear
Panacea: A remedy for all diseases, evils, or difficulties; a cure-all 
Sempiternal: Enduring forever; eternal



Long ago in a far away land lived a woman who
had style and "glamor". No longer was she "demur"
she possessed so much confidence. She was
the "cenynosure" for all the men in her small village"
This beauty had came along way. She was a orphan
at a young age and went through" ineffable" things
to hard to express. One day she was given "panacea"
and her life changed instanstanly.
She became a lovely creature with "chatoyant" eyes".
Not a trace of the" ingenue" woman she once was.
Men were spellbound by her"melliflous" voice and
her" lissome walk.
I never tire of this touching tale because this
amazing woman was my great, great grandmother.


Alexis Y
5-15-16


Author's note this tale is pure fiction. Just my spin on
Silent One's Challenge.
© Alexis Y.  Create an image from this poem.

Back To Her Youth By Margo Channing

She is aware of distance,
a distance that replaces smooth with wrinkle,
that adds weight to where it once fell away,
a distance as controllable as a storm, as time itself.

It feels likes a rope thinning,
each frayed line of twine aims
to remind that no longer
is she considered fine and soon
a lover’s 'mine and thine' will 
drown in a bottle of wine, corked.

Mirrors reflect a youth in famine,
spotted with age like a dalmatian
with rheumatic limbs. Breath stinking.

Like the missing t in her name she 
wonders where her ingenue years are. 
They curled into smoke, melted ice, a suitcase

misplaced. She hopes in finger crossed wishes
that he is not aware of this distance,
this distance that seemed to matter not when they met
but these years eight between them spread slowly,
a molasses seeping over skin and sex,
showing him her true self – aged, past – 

dry dirt on an earth that only celebrates pastures new.
age

Premium Member My Crystal Blue

We walked home
Hand in hand
You were just a girl
me a boy 
pretending to be a man

We held tightly to our nothing
Wrapping it fully within the wanting
Not really knowing 
who we were 
or what we were needing
So it was so easy 
to sink into heavy breathing 
Me the innocent boy
you my ingenue 
We loved each other for a time
It seemed the right thing to do

You were my cynosure 
a crystal blue eyed angel
naked and demure
Tentatively  innocent
yet somehow you seemed so sure
I wanted you to unlock my sad lonely 
still I kept looking elsewhere for a cure
A panacea 
for the missing parts inside of me
So I searched
wanting to see
my sempiternal possibility

Feelings ineffable
I wanted so bad to feel full
Why couldn't I hold onto us
or resist the pull
I was a sad black sheep
searching for virgin wool

I thought maybe
beyond my awkward stammer
in the wider world of glamour 
I could be a mellifluous camper
Yet secretly I knew
I was neither lissome or free
Why did I give up the us in we?
Binding myself in a place 
I was never meant to be
There in a chatoyant box
locked with a golden key 
It would take years
For me to be able to see
What my crystal blue baby
seen inside of me
In the end
knowing I was loveable
is what set the boy free
You showed me
the man I was meant to be!


I completed Silent's ten word challenge.
Form: Rhyme

Next Poem, Erased On a Sharp Black Line

"Next Poem, Erased on a Sharp Black Line"



The more I try to erase you
The more you present sharp and present
Oligarchy claps on, 
Teeth sharp and tongues bite venomous in numbers

There you are walking
barefoot and blindfolded 
on a Sharp Black Line
Daring to dive in

Here I await your presence
In the swim
A shadow drowning 
under brittle crystal hours

hooked by lip
silent

Aqua smile shatters a 
dry paper kiss
Fingers touch written lines
not the bees stinging 

with their 
thick 
sticky honey

Fingers tracing lips
The tongue spoken
between broken 
and bliss

Alive,
not drowning
waving

Something in the story
missed

Absent 
Ingenue
Transformation 
Tryst


To sleep,
close my eyelids
who's counting on you,
next poem

erased on a sharp black line

(LadyLabyrinth/2019)



https://youtu.be/1TuOT324neg
Thom Yorke/Ingenue





Ingenue/Lyrics, Thom Yorke
https://genius.com/Atoms-for-peace-ingenue-lyrics

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