Long Jealous Poems
Long Jealous Poems. Below are the most popular long Jealous by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jealous poems by poem length and keyword.
Morgana was born into her role as dragon raiser as a sixth daughter
The beasts she nurtured were sweet as youth, but grew to slaughter
Some thrived near lakes and swamps, all kinds of glistening water.
Morgana showed them how to survive well springs that were hotter.
One of her newest baby dragons was unwilling to listen to her at first.
He kept burning his tongue on the well spring water, quenching his thirst.
Cedric is daring, she told everyone as his lung filled up in a burst.
My last two baby dragons were both decidedly worst.
We could see that Morgana had a forgiving heart for this beast.
He was soon leading her armies in battle from the north to the east.
Morgana and Cedric left most of their enemies critical or deceased.
When they returned to the cavern they would celebrate with a huge feast.
They are a formidable pair, the king said, intimidated quite a bit.
And that dragon is hilarious, he has a keen, entertaining wit.
He takes orders so well from Morgana, even when he is lit.
His queen knew his heart; king was jealous of the dragon raiser chit.
You could have your own dragon, she said, assuring him.
But his fear factor was strong, this King named old Jim.
So he sat on his throne, studying the dragon with vim.
Scared of both Morgana and Cedric, as the king was quite dim.
Groggy, I lay my unsteady head down.
My soul coiled from turmoil, soon forgotten.
To a whirling tunnel I fall, fall, fall;
a sleep that knits a cradle of cotton.
Amid an enchanted forest, yielding
old timber with faces, and creeping plants.
Where wildlife talk and rainbow fairies dance
all frozen in time by mistral wind chants.
I'm jealous of the nights. Oh, so alone
wanting to spend it with someone I love
swept away in the darkness tenderly
loving me even with the light above.
I turn to sound of shuffling leaves. The door
irised open and tendrils of blue smoke
bands of warm magic made my skin tingle.
The Prince of my dreams came through, then I woke.
11/10/12017
Deep within my heart a hollow resides,
A hidden love, concealed from prying eyes,
Its flames, like embers, burn softly and glow,
With no hope of flaring up from the faux.
Only in secret, do furtive eyes meet,
Forbidden yearnings, longingly discreet,
These stolen moments, are all we can keep,
So shallow, when we yearn for love so deep.
Each furtive touch, a tremor in the dark,
Each kiss hesitant a flick fleeting spark,
Each murmured whisper a tell barely heard,
Each eye to eye stare, shortened and blurred.
This love blighted gets unrequited stalled
For love secret, is never love recalled?
For love secret is never love recalled?
We built a secret garden, safely stone-walled,
To hide our love away, but it did not work.
For straying innuendo and eyes did smirk,
Suspiciously following our sneaks away,
With no let-up in surveillance every day.
From jealous stares, glares, winks and snooping eyes
That traced every move, with evidence their prize.
So we must keep meeting in a secret place,
With no walls, never a completely safe space.
Never in the same space or place, repeated,
To ensure our enemies are defeated.
We must also meet less often to allay.
Our secret love must fade, but never away.
Our secret love must fade, but never away.
Living on in spirit, forever and a day.
We will cherish the hidden wink when eyes meet.
The faintest furtive touches when we greet
The smell of body aromas in passing.
The softness of familiar voices laughing.
The wait-a-while lingering on your smile,
Feigning unfamiliarity to beguile.
Our secret, our love in secret must live on.
Like the paint on canvases fades upon
The staring glare of light shining year on year.
But our love's spirit will forever endear.
For the spark, flare and glint of love's affair.
Like bottled wine matures and ages to better fare.
Love can make your heart beat fast
it can tease and taunt
your thoughts and dreams to wild desire
it can make your stomach ache
and your armpits sweat with fire
it can warm your body
and take away your every breath
it can make you jealous,
a green obsessed with envy's test
it can burn your soul
with a wanting force of touch and lust
it can change all feelings
and emotion from me and you to us
it's that touch,
that unintended spark
tell me again,
and still,
I won't believe
that sometimes love is not enough,
when you're in love
love is enough.
Silent One contest, Sometimes love is not enough
The concert had been perfect ...
Chaka and Al Jarreau on the grass at Foxwoods
A dry and warm July evening
Sleepy full moon peeking up over the horizon
(As if checking to make sure the jealous sun had set)
Then rising ever-so-cautiously
Like a gold doubloon tossed in slow-motion
We drove to Prospect Park and climbed the hill with a blanket
Laying it out when we reached the top
Then sitting down to watch the lights of Boston
There was a tangible magic in the air
One of those nights when something grand speaks to your deepest being
Telling you that for this rare and precious moment
(A moment that could stretch to forever)
All was right in the Universe, and nothing would or could go wrong
Thirty years ago, yet I remember every detail
The way her fingers filled the spaces in mine as we ran up the hill
The scent of her Je Reviens perfume
Mixing with the aroma of newly-mown grass
The exquisite silkiness of her tan Taiwanese skin
Her raven hair hanging around her face like a dark halo
Spicy, luscious chili pepper lips tugging mine
Quiet but intense little sighs of pleasure and encouragement
And her eyes ... oh her eyes, like cool-and-glassy mountain pools at night
The distant lights of the city shimmering softly within
Swimming in the dreamy depths of her gaze
Like the fireflies that swam in the air around us
Telling me all I needed to know, all the things her body spoke to me
The soul-deep-and-sexy things that my body answered ...
Sweet ... vulnerable ... delirious.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice (33) Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Verses Of Metaphors II" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
The Rains have Come
The rains have to shower their love on us, like God,
The rains have come to sooth the heated and dry earth,
The rains have come to feel the touch of joy and mirth,
Of trees, leaves, flowers and buds, spreading every where on earth.
The rains have come to paint the sky with beautiful colors,
The rains have come to throw their enchanting defusing lights, on us,
The rains have come to fill the rivers, ponds and hills and even deserts,
The rains have come to heal our empty, sad and weeping hearts.
The rains have come to bring close, all broken hearts,
The rains have come to keep alive, the extinguishing love,
The rains have come throw more fire of passion and love in our life,
The rains have come to blow in our heart, it’s often soothing songs.
The rains have come to make happier, the chattering and mating birds,
The rains have come to mix more sweetness in our dreams and love,
The rains have come to wash away, the dirt’s from the Butterfly’s wings,
From swinging and singing leaves of trees and Man’s ever jealous hearts.
In the short span of human life,
Let us keep the beauty of rains, always alive in our hearts,
But, O dear rain, do not wash away the small dwelling and shelters of those,
Who can not afford to bear too much of love or the heaviness of rains,
Have mercy on them like God, O dear rain.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 22nd July 2010
I I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I
I I I I I I
I I I I stared I I
I I I I a soaring * sparrow I
with a jealous eye, I
I I craving his freedom, I
I to roam the sky; then he
alit on a twig shivering in the
rain as I sat warmly sheltered
behind my windowpane / /
I I / /
_____________________/ \__ / \ _____________/ /___
----------------------------------- -
72.
My Father
My Father, like the usual other
Wants to show he is a hardworker
I know his rags-to-money story
And money-to-rags tragedy
When I began to be world conscious
His presence I consider precious
When still a child I never sleep
When he's not yet home from work and trip
I even used to take a night bath
To welcome him back
And I'll smell good when he kisses me
Shaved beard, moustache – my cheeks make itchy
Yet, I was always excited ‘coz
There's always a pasalubong dose
Gatorade, Chokolait, other drinks
Canned Bear Brand – we chill and drink contest
After Sunday Mass in Five Wounds Church
He would buy me goto and Yakult
I missed too his ‘pinapaitan”
While in Las Piñas was the last one
When Angel and SM Southmall born
Jollibee was Sunday hour sojourn
What I only hate during weekends
I was tasked to pick his white hair strands
Once he told me tales of Dumarao
And when we're already here now
I felt a little bit of jealous
To my cousins whom he seemed so close
Worse, I was annoyed of his hobbies
Which for me, costly, can cause disease
I succeed not to follow his flaw
Thanks God who understands I forgo
Whatever bad things I have in me
Have done to others and/or Thee
It's not my father's fault anymore
So God please save him from dishonor
For I still love Tatay with all my heart!
-11/28/2011
(Dumarao)
*First Incubus Collection
pantoum
I ask the Lord's blessing to fall upon you,
I look back with thanksgiving and trust.
The worst of my foes has not broken through
my Jesus is joyful and jealous and just.
I look back with thanksgiving and trust
when your condemnation comes past my gate
my Jesus is joyful and jealous and just
though His vengeance may sometimes seem late.
When your condemnation comes past my gate
I wait on the One who can soften your shell.
Though His vengeance may seem a bit late
God's Son is coming back to free earth from hell.
I wait on the One who can soften your shell.
The worst of my foes has not broken through -
God's Son is coming back to free earth from hell.
I ask the Lord's blessing to fall upon you.
March 9, 2011
Paula's Pantoum Contest
Written: August 07, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Their steps took them to the highest peak,
Where stars whispered secrets, and moon would speak,
They danced in the moonlight, their bodies in sync,
Their love takes flight, such as birds on the brink.
With each dip and turn, their hearts intertwined,
Their love grew stronger, their souls aligned,
The dance of hidden dreams and carelessness spells.
A mesmerizing spectacle, beyond what words could tell.
But alas, their love was not meant to be,
For the realm of dreams can be cruel and free.
One fateful night, as they danced in the sky,
Darkness crept in, a tear in their eye.
A jealous wind blew, and negligence was torn,
From widdendream, she was cruelly stolen and borne.
Nightmare cried out, his heart torn in two,
But the wind carried carelessness, his love so true.
He chased after her, through the hoddypeak snow,
His determination unwavering
He searched high and low, refusing to let forego,
Through valleys and mountains, his love he would show.
But the realm of dreams, a treacherous place,
Where fate decides, with a cold embrace,
Widdendream's search, a never-ending quest,
To find his love, to put his heart at rest.