Long Jeanne Poems
Long Jeanne Poems. Below are the most popular long Jeanne by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jeanne poems by poem length and keyword.
"Triomphant"
Mea Culpa
Latin two words
a wrong turn
move forwards
Lux Vitae
Latin two words
shower me with Your Love
Your Light I move towards
Amor Vincit Omnia
Roman Poet Virgil
Message to the young girl
Secret Communiqué Love is plural
Jeanne d’Arc
Triomphant
(Lovejoy-Burton/Feb 2018)
"On the darkest days, when I feel inadequate, unloved and unworthy, I remember whose daughter I am and I straighten my crown".
(GVLM.K.M.L.)
“Rome is not outside me, but inside me. Her feverish sweetness, her tragic countryside, her own beauty and harmony, all these are mine, for my thought and my work.”
Amedeo Modigliani
Second sight in some infants, short tenure belies
Unbiased newness unpicks societal manufacture
To passers by, lurking spiritual assets recognisable
Pervading expression classifies their clairvoyance
Such was toddling dandelion darling, Aubergine
Unphased, observant, chillingly serene in nature
Cherubic smirk absorbed traits, antics compiled
Tea coloured irises brewed extracted evidence
Aloof by default, addictive was desire to amuse her
Surfacing sufficient wit to captivate earned pleasure
Complex humour her veracity seeking palate required
Ego's growth ensued causing her copper eyes to flare
Taut uncooked dough forehead bound words in focus
Incidental text in her proximity statue faced savoured
Without parental prompting, pillared wisdom widened
Constant calculation of her purposed component
Memorable eerie moment in Aubergine activity
I surreptitiously witnessed striking behaviour
"Don't tell Mummy, I was once burnt alive in fire."
She confided in her soft toy 'school' semi circle
Watching her calm revelation, mildly humilated
by my unfamiliarity with her zany brain's structure
Her sophistication held me dauntingly hypnotised
Haunted by her thirty month old pre life mystery
Written 18th June
( I just noticed today's date sounds a bit like 'Aubergine')
a word name I thought suited a little tot called Lexi
at a Day Care Centre I worked at a few years ago.
After putting this poem up, I realise
Aubergine sounds like Joan of Arc (Jeanne D'arc)
swapped syllables.
Didn't plan the poem to mention fire.
I had only the concept of outstanding baby girl when sat to write.
I paint in series; same motif – haystacks, trees, cathedrals, water lilies.
normandy inspired many pencil sketches of sailing ships.
aunt Marie-Jeanne encouraged me; she was a generous painter.
boudin encouraged me to paint in open air, which was unheard of.
I worked with Renoir for a few months; we had similar tastes and canvases.
called them bad sketches, the beginning of the Impressionist period.
neverland called to me where I painted canals, boats, tulips and windmills.
I practiced drawing and painting an identical motif over and over.
best decision I ever made was to buy the marshlands across the road.
diverted the stream, creating a gorgeous new water lily garden.
weeping willows, iris and bamboo shot up, entertaining my paint brush.
meditated and painted there until I died at the happy age of eighty-six.
`
I have so many friends on soup,
it’s hard to pick just one
To narrow down to just a few,
it just cannot be done
Heidi always brings a smile
Brenda tempts my heart
Sandy posts poetic dreams
Connie’s whispered art
Gershon really makes me laugh
Maureen, she can write
Hello There and Andrea
make my mornings bright
John, who makes the soupers sing
Nina, she’s a hoot
Kim can pen most anything
Pixie’s words so cute
Sunlite you are number one
you’ve always been my friend
I’m sorry I omitted you
it won’t happen again
Anne-lise always makes me think
Ilene sure can rhyme
Brandy’s thoughts are beautiful
Eve makes poems shine
Limericks are Jan’s forte
Affection is Cay Cay
Alexis, Chantelle, Carolyn
take my breath away
A warrior who floats on wings
A very Silent One
Bobby May bring happiness
and Spock, no wait, his son
Disco, Beth and Jeanne are new
at least they are to me
Janice, Tania, Sandra Weiss
much talent in these three
Line and LuLoo and Dear Heart
well, what more can I say
So many poets I call friend
on any given day
There are a few from long ago
when I first found this site
I can’t forget to mention them,
it just would not be right
Charmaine, I miss her the most
Paloma just as much
White Wolf wrote some crazy stuff
Darren had the touch
Agnes, Leanna, Anne-Marie
all were friends of mine
Becca, Dale, Lisa, Sue
Poetry so fine
Christy, Daniel, Freddy, Lin
so many from the past
Forever doesn’t happen now
it seems some things don’t last
But back to what I’m trying to say,
before this poems’ done
So many here that I admire,
it’s hard to pick just one
So, thank you all for all you do,
the kindness that you show
I’m blessed by every one of you
and wanted you to know
Inspired by but not written for Bobby May’s Pick A friend on Soup poetry contest
Oh hell, I going to enter it anyway. I know it won't win because it doesn't follow the rules but rules are meant to be broken, right?
I have so many crush everywhere
Palpable and inner beauties, seen and felt somewhere
Likeness of Hedy, Audrey, Soraya, Oona, Grace, Lucille, Jayne, Yvonne, Sophia, Debbie, Doris, Patti, Eydie, Skeeter, Brenda, Lesley, Holly, Sookie, Millie, Tammy, Sandy, Connie, Timi, Anne, Patsy, Claudia, Julie, Patti, Juice, Janie, Janis, Minnie/Andrea, Stacy, Shelley, Stevie, Laura, Carole, Mary, Melissa, Maureen, Patti, Agnetha, Anni-Frida, Randy C, Angela, Vesta, Deniece, Linda, Crystal, Teri, Whitney, Jane, Jacklyn, Morgan, Sondra, Sandra, Nadia, Olga, Kelly, Kim, Michelle, Debra, Geena, Ashley, Renee, Diana, Liza, Bette, Ann, Nancy, Keren W, Michael S, Chaka Khan, Isabella, Rebecca, Jeanne, Faith, Beverly, Alicia S, Alison, Leigh, Avril, Laura, Maryam, Izabella, Josie, Elena, Silvia... from East and West, I surely do.
From North and South are my classmates, friends...
and You!
They're the Little Sisters of the Poor so devoted in their deeds
And suddenly they are at war or at least as Obama Care reads
They wanted to fine them dearly or give up their religious belief
A mismatch all had thought clearly but for a little heavenly relief
Accused of "fighting an invisible dragon", and called "implausible" too
Such wickedness they would usually shun but this attack of evil is new
And there they are so meek in their way their only weapon being prayer
Many are very old and long since grey yet for whom is it not fair
The Little Sisters just won their last battle a shot right to their face
But I still hear the snakes rattle slithering around in such disgrace
With such a dismissive tone as is their attitude towards all liberty
But His Light has just shone and now everyone can clearly see
The Nuns will forever fight having the Lord close to their side
Shining His Light on all that this administration tries so hard to hide
But the Little Sisters of the poor such a precious special group
It took them to say no more, we won't jump through your hoop
Saint Jeanne Jugan we pray for humble hearts.
This quest arose for Jeanne d'Arc,
A peasant girl engrossed in prayer.
When voices deep inside her head,
Spoke of her future, saving France.
During the passing march of time,
Wise words transcended Jeanne's belief.
With eloquence she did proclaim,
The Dauphin Charles would be crowned king.
Jeanne's duty now, to free Orleans,
Which Englands army had besieged.
Her strategy of no retreat,
Caused panic in the English camp.
When cannon fire created haze,
Two arrows pierced Jeanne's armour plate.
Despite her wounds she battled on.
With victory lifting the siege.
The road to Reims to crown Charles king,
Was fraught with danger near Patay.
Jeanne's orders were, to ride with spurs.
The English drums beat out retreat,
French knights on horseback giving chase
Were almost ambushed by their foe.
A startled stag caused disarray.
The French knights spilling English blood.
Jeanne kneeling down, tearfully prayed,
Betwixt those dying and the dead.
With Charles crowned king, and wanting peace
Jeanne's siege of Paris did surcease.
Her power was his great concern,
Consigning her to free Compiegne.
A skirmish by the city walls
Ended with Jeanne's captivity.
The trial of the Orleans maid
A charge of heresy was placed
Which Jeanne as always did deny.
With threats of torture or confess,
Those voices past, she did retract
Only to say, it was Gods will.
So weary now, she knew her fate.
For modesty, she wore mens clothes
Convicting her of heresy.
Within Rouen's old market place
Jeanne's death was burning at the stake.
An English guard made her a cross
He wept then cried, we've burnt a saint.
9/ 15/ 2015.
Healing is embracing what is most feared; healing is opening what has been closed, softening what has hardened into obstruction, healing is learning to trust life. — Jeanne Achterberg
We wandered lonely along the cowslip-lined lane.
The sky was overcast, though I hoped it would not rain.
Still, though apart, we walked and talked about life.
Our thoughts were heavy, for we understood all about strife.
Occasionally, we glanced at each other and smiled,
Each felt a sensation of wonder and delight, so beguiled.
Rain began to fall, and we dashed to a nearby shed, a cosy place.
Thunder boomed. We found ourselves in a stunning, sweet embrace.
Placed 1
A Tribute
to Our Great Friend
Sister Jeanne Stephens
Written: by Miracle Man
October 29, 2019
In your deteriorating years your intellect is undeterred,
You’re a veritable lady in every sense of the word.
Your concern for others is a message that you send,
It leaves us feeling blessed having you for a friend.
You’re an assertive lady who requires no defense,
Making our friendship special with no need for pretense.
God occasioned our paths to intertwine one day,
Now we remember each other when we kneel to pray.
Some perhaps might think that in your ways you’re set,
But with you sister Jeanne, what we see is what we get.
“Candor is a compliment; it implies equality.
It’s how true friends talk”
Peggy Noonan
I used to live in France, near the Champagne region.
My favorite Notre Dame cathedral is not the one in Paris;
Rather it is Notre Dame de Rheims.
After many battles, Jeanne D'Arc helped the Dauphin Charles
Be crowned the king of France there.
There are many statues in France of Jeanne D'Arc.
Most of them show her riding a horse with sword held high.
I've see that image in many Places in the north.
My favorite statue of her is in Notre Dame de Rheims.
She looks to be standing a vigil in her armor
With her battle flag posted behind her.
I've also been to Place Jeanne D'Arc in the city of Rouen,
Where the British tormented, interrogated, and immolated her.
It didn't look like a sad place, but I felt sad there for her.
I don't know if she really heard angelic voices,
But her story always inspired me--
Probably the only non-Biblical saint that ever did.