Long Knightly Poems
Long Knightly Poems. Below are the most popular long Knightly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Knightly poems by poem length and keyword.
"MARRY ME" -- The Sweethearts Valentine Candy
I write with passion in every line,
A poet bleeding words, in black and white
Elegant, like a fine glass of red wine.
I SIT!
I LAY!
I LOOK INTO YOUR KNIGHTLY EYES!
Pearly paper I unwrap the magazine
I switch the lights to read
Gently I kiss you on the cheek
Tonight my diary reads, LOVE
I walked away, bathing for the night
A beautiful purple Amethyst diary on the nightstand.
The unthinkable; -O' you opened to read
Page 1 - 50 dramatic, and set
You skipped on over to the day we met.
Page 88
Once I was lost in the twilight
Then I magically found a box of invisible light
There you stood like a diamond ring;
Suddenly my heart began to sing
Your love was more than the beauty that spawned from your soul
Fair and cold like winter blues
January stars following my every move
I treasure every moment we spend like my mother’s cameo
I lifted our memories and time framed them like yesterday
A vintage picture, no one can erase or take away.
Page 55
You skipped back and, opened a page that spoke about my broken dreams.
Page 66
Smeared cobalt words in every line (CRYING)
Page 77
Sapphire Glamour of fancy words
Phrased that I finally found my amulet
He will protect me with unspeakable powers.
Page 99
Moonstone & Opal = 4ever
My white shiny Pearl, listen to me whatever
SLAMMING the diary shut!!
A piece of paper fell, and you bent over to pick it up.
Your heart skips ---- (when you read your name)
Dear Diary!
The roads ahead are full of bumps and screams.
I will continue to open every door until I find my dreams.
My sweetest love, soon will come,
May he never dares to change me like the seasons.
My sweetest love, soon will come
Together well enjoy life and respect its reasons.
A sexy man!!
Will come and intrude the glossary of my life!
My sweetest love, soon will come
One day to make me his wife
Today I will write and smile about love
Page 111
I have no shame in asking the man who stops
By to sneak a peek and read my diary once a week
Will You MARRY ME????
more often than not, a knightly surge
combs a pawn me,
especially after the stroke of midnight, when
hermetically sealed in my rookery,
where bats in the belfry
flap their wings at the speed
of sound times ten
thence, this king heads to his counting house
(which doubles asthma
Perkiomen Valley bishopric)
to economize on space,
especially during tax time
(as April fifteenth slowly approaches,
me heartbeat doth) quicken
though becalmed, when imbibing
idyllic, fantastic, and bucolic kingdom
Americana paintings courtesy, sans nomen
Percevel Rockwell, thus jitteriness pacified,
particularly speaking
on the telly phone with Ken
Burns, whose trademark documentaries,
particularly War between the States,
where even roosting hen
got into the frayed scrimmage vis a vis, even
chilly being egged on to surrender as Ben
a fit to this American
Civil War Yankee incarnate,
whose doodling word
ya probably don't give a hoot -Amen!
"The Letter"
"L" is for LOVE and the JOY that follows
"L" is for Learning flies high like a Swallow
"L" is for LIFE Lionheart all the rises and hollows
"G" is for DAUGHTER, hearts 2 as 1, flying free on the 'morrow
"L" is for Loquaciousness bees buzzing mouthfuls of honey
"L" is for Listen there is more to Life than mere money
"L" is for Linnet bird singing on the highest branch next to God
"O" is for ONE, "I Am", forever in your blood
"G" is for GLORY there is TRUTH to be seen
"O" is for FREEDOM Little Bird, 2 Royal Queens free, follow their dreams
(Lovejoy-Burton/Feb 2018)
gvlm
klb, mlb
Aerial/ Kate Bush
https://youtu.be/8UBzZKzu8Wg
Meaning of the name Lynette:
Linnet : A mainly brown and gray finch with a reddish breast and forehead.
In Anglo-Saxon the meaning of the name Lynette is: Bird.
In Celtic the meaning of the name Lynette is: Grace.
In Arthurian Legend the meaning of the name Lynette is:
Sister of Lyonors. In Arthurian legend Lynette accompanied Sir Gareth on a knightly quest.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lynette_and_Lyonesse
The old King took to the battle
and leapt into the fencers fray.
“Noblesse oblige” his cronies cry.
“Our King will save the day!”
He was a bull to their gazelle
nae a fair fight, nae by half;
he'd fight just to see the thralls fall
he ‘d pierce those peacocks for a laugh!
His continence was so fearsome.
His two burly arms a rare threat.
Some would nae fight His Majesty
nor fight of his knightly get.
“How is this fair?” the Lord’s lament.
How well met can these odd match be?
“Unless, of course, ‘twas nae ‘bout fair
this was nae called noblesse oblige!
In heavy plate with blade and pole
with broadsword, He’d bested the field;
so, as the fencers broached this game
the wiser lads all chose to yield.
They would nae raise a blade to him
nor would they save for him a dance;
many a brave man whispered there
and the bolder looked on askance.
“Let Him have the day! We’ll nae play
Noblesse oblige, my fine backsides!”
And, so the fancy fencers fell
like pretty harp seals on the tide.
There are many a way to win
and sure, many a way to loose.
Yet ‘tis the metal of the man
shows in the way that he chooses.
"Mine most beautiful and most gentle lady throughout your kingdom.
Thou's most loyal and most brave and most humblest of knight's.
Hereby and forever bequeath to thee, and pledge to lay down
mine own life for thee. May I have the honor, and glory of
wearing your most noble colors of red and gold in our tournament
of knightly honorable bravery?"
His lady fair and her spouse nodded their heads in agreement. The
golden trumpets sounded loudly, the tournament began. His most
unworthy and diabolical opponent was the mysterious black Knight.
Most reknowned through out the small kingdom. For his evil deeds,
and his cruelty. But every one throughout the entire land were
held in terror and afraid to fight against him.
The black knight won the tournament, and the noble knight
was escorted into the pearly gates of paradise. The Virgin Mary,
The Virgin Mary, and his patron saint along with heavenly angels.
Were his escort service. He entered into paradise with prompt
and ceremony as befitted a loyal and brave knight of the realm.
Whereas the evil black knight was immediately punished for his
nefarious deeds. And was promptly beheaded. Before his death,
he vainly pleaded for mercy, but received none. Neither in this
life, nor the next. And when recorded time has ended. His memory
would be forever forgotten by the heavenly saints, angels and
Holy Trinity!
Love as always,
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
February 19, 2020
Perceptions
What will the story be ?
Into the mysteries of the observing mind
one has to ponder, wonder just what kind
of tales, stories, beliefs will we see unfold
as the projections, the perceptions are told.
Will they be of nights, Knights on great white steeds ?
- of selfless acts, acts of compassion, understanding, of good deeds ?,
or will we see that they are black, cold, indifferent and cruel –
or just a man, - dressed as a mule – an aged, age old fool.
Will these Knightly images come at you in fierce
black storm clouds – thunder, the ears doth pierce.
Will your visions be of that great orb ?, and Helios’ steeds
bringing fire, passion, light – healing , filling your needs.
What will come across the impassioned – sky lit night ?,
that just might impress that third eye with insight.
Could all this be but an old, foolish man’s thought ?,
that in the final analysis, in the end, will come to not
for no one ?, will remember nor will they care,
nor will they be concerned about what is fare.
Down these rocky roads, some of us will go,
what we learn, will it be what we really know ?
Is the light – coming from within ? – to show
us, down life’s rough roads, alone we must go ?
Will a black hole become our future ?
Will shadows creep in from the past ?,
give us glimpses of - in refractive light - the present.
Will losses, changes, renewals be our guides towards the end ?
Will all this be guided by the hands of fate ?, will karma send
us on journeys, adventures ? education of the soul to mend ?
B. J. “A” 2
August 19th 2004
Why The Tape?
Had a BBC with a tape recorder,
Not a disk drive to speed loading,
Not for a predictions program,
Not for saving my long documents.
Why this lack of approval, love?
A wet cloth on my nightly activity,
A dampness in the metal mansion,
A call on Usain Bolt at his run.
There was no assistive software,
On tape for the BBC computer,
No special quiet communication,
For this lonely trier knightly.
I complained to my school doctor,
That dignity had been abducted,
By my parents from my usage,
Of my home computer majestic.
The school offered me a drive,
So I took it, but my evil parents,
Objected to the kindness given,
By rejecting the treasured mace.
Nothing really came of that,
But the doctor promised to,
Remember their uncaring spirit,
Their sad and bad reaction.
But I was just so frustrated,
I couldn’t save my programs,
So felt defeated every time,
I switched off the computer.
I mean, I did buy blank tapes,
But they put them in the bin,
Reprimanded shop assistants,
For helping me buy each tape.
So I felt so small and worn,
When I should’ve felt grand,
Big for the added functionality,
Big for the hard challenge.
Life’s like that sometimes,
It just does not help you out,
It doesn’t glance, give a chance,
When you just need enabled.
Four and a half years ago we lost a fine poet,
a knightly gentleman, and a friend to many of us.
I'm reposting my tribute to him today.
Warrior is an adjective used for a hero or a knight
I knew one, briefly, whose wings have taken flight
Not just a fine poet was John, but also very kind
Generous and caring, is how he would be defined
Endearing was his 'love and light' message to all
Departed now, but his memory I will always recall
With words of tribute, I honor his humorous wit
Always a positive attitude, he was a candle ~ lit
Rest peacefully, ^WW^ ~ You're missed, my friend
Reflecting Ripples is a poem John sadly penned
In it he wrote about "shadows" and "silent sorrows"
Oh, If from fate, I could be the one who borrows
Respite from death, you'd have more tomorrows
A dream of dreams, then quickly vanished.
A dragon stitched through billowing clouds,
A fold-up wooded paper kingdom appeared.
I slowly sat up in my bed, right on my footboard it gripped.
The rest of my room disappeared into a fog.
A green-gold scales beast raised its stare.
Calm expression, like he was reading my muddy bog
Thoughts. Overwhelmed, speak, I did not dare.
I'd like to take you to a spectacular place.
He crossed his arms across his chest.
He whirled around a scarf appeared across his face.
Then, twisted his lips, hum, knightly jests.
I scratched my head and shrugged my shoulders,
and thought very nervously. Can I trust this beast?
For a moment, I wondered, but who is his holder?
Anxiously, I merely followed this beast.
A dream of dreams I woke to a knock at my bedroom door.
Afraid, carefully I pulled the loose covers off my head.
Pouring emotions of joy, the wooded paper kingdom was no more.
Mom slowly opens the door. “You’re going to be late for school,” she said.
The curse of an ugly darling and her invisible shadow struggling for the warmth light and the ease in the dark night.
She is the lightening in the clouds; a distant flash followed by the sound of an unwavering silence.
A heroic sufferer trudging through a plaguing odyssey.
Untouchable and unreachable yet, undoubtably, a touched thought at arms length.
I am the bringer and the betrayer of her harboured suffering
For which she will always endure as long as our faces do not meet.
We are one with different eyes, halves with one soul, two perspectives of the same experience.
She feared her anger would control her madness and sentence her to a life of suffering.
As it did, I thrived in a lawless land cruising at the speed of light to planets of fire and meadow gardens whose walls were merely waterfalls.
I crushed crystals into my tea and meditated in the skies with the breeze as my throne.
No spear or strike, nor sickness or injury ever grounded my destiny for the light.
It was I, who built stones of civilisations that broke in a fit of jealous treachery: who brought a knightly freedom to those she enslaved: who locked her away, in a galaxy far away.
Our temples are crumbs now, a mythical remembrance to a forgotten past power.
Her tragedy bounds for another world
As my throne is nothing but a wild imagination of an invisible realm hidden within the skies of reality.
I am now a mosquito on warm waters and she is the fear-mongering dragon.
Beware the orange light you see on the horizon
For her spells of fire will burn your vitality to ashes and ashes
Until you are nothing more than rising steam or settled dust.