Long Lara Poems
Long Lara Poems. Below are the most popular long Lara by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lara poems by poem length and keyword.
Cerulean sky in the quiet jungle was shook up by the unexpected tremor of a white and red bimotor plane. Larry, a tall, olive skin, green eyes, was the handsome pilot of the plane called Lara. Mechanical problems obligated Larry to an emergency landing.
In the crystalline river was a lady called Lara. She was camping for two days in the inhospitable surroundings. A heart break made her to take a time out from her hectic work schedule as general surgeon. Footsteps were heard in the dry leaves. Lara looked behind her, to see the impressing presence of Larry. She thought she was going to faint.
Larry felt a skip in her heart when he saw Lara. She was very identical to his deceased beloved. Without uttering a word, they felt love at first sight. Larry asked to Lara her name. They introduced themselves. Lara was packing to return to her home. Larry told Lara about the plane incident. She offered Larry to take him to his home. By coincidences of life, they live in the same urbanization. Before stepping out of the car, Larry gave to Lara a business card with his phone number. He was the CEO of an important tobacco exporting company. One week later, Lara took her cell phone and called Larry.
He invited her to a dinner to an elegant restaurant of the city. While they were dining, Larry told to Lara that he wants to know more about her. After concluding the dinner, they agreed to continue communicating by phone, letting that time decide their romantic future. Two years passed, when Larry invited Lara to dinner waiting a surprise to Lara. An engagement ring was inside of the rose bouquet. Larry asked Lara if she would marry him. Lara accepted the proposal. Wedding planification started. Fue most expected day for Larry and Lara arrived.
Larry was wearing a black tuxedo. The ivory bridal gown of Lara was stunning. Cala flowers and pink roses were part of the church decoration. Lara walked the aisle when Larry was waiting for her. After the religious ceremony, they were declared husband and wife. They left the church in a white limousine to the reception in a five star hotel. Blissful days were part of their married life until death separate them, ending a romance that began in a jungle.
The End
The blackbird has gone maggoty
Lara stiffs at it
shakes a grub off her wet nose
and sneezes.
Then as if fiction were uncannily real
another similar bird drops out of a tree.
For a short while it flutters
turning in a circle around a broken neck.
Lara looks at me as if to say,
‘What the heck?’
Now the bird is still
one eye open to the sky.
I can see clouds reflected in its eye
but soon just cloudiness
as life departs.
Lara again does her sniffing thing.
We walk on smelling the sweetness
of Fall leaves as they rot into October.
This is a time
when death and its dissolution
is still aromatic,
pungent enough to mask
the seasons fatal embrace.
Lara sniffs at a loose pile of fallen leaves
as if they were an open grave.
I told Lara,
told her we would meet again.
Her on the metal table,
the light bleeding over
stainless steel and clinging to
arm hair’s, draining
color from her matted fur.
In her eyes something - not light
more what light becomes
when soil is shoveled up,
a soft luminosity, rain dark.
On the way here,
she had on the backseat of the car
the loss of control, her blindness…
for a while she shuffled,
put her nose to the side window
as if smelling better days,
then she whimpered,
from the driver’s seat I heard myself say:
'there, there',
knowing we were 'there' already.
When we arrived
she was laid down between the seats,
I had to tug her out the back door,
she let me, sometimes she liked to play dead
when she didn't want to do something -
not now.
Now I am looking down
watching her blind eyes following something,
maybe tracking these strange smells,
or seeking out shapes only blindness can see.
Animals don’t think of their own death,
they don’t imagine it, for them
it’s just a place where they are.
The young woman in the white coat
asks me if I wanted to hold her?
I could tell my old dog was going,
I held my breath, staring at the ceiling
trying not to be anywhere.
I don’t believe in the past or the future,
not in any absolute sense.
My guess is that Lara did not either,
maybe we are meeting now
as I write these words -
words not spoken.
The first time I saw them was amazing.
Both of them had a beauty that would make my heart blush.
Like Hilton and Lohan, they had a pose that would send my heart blazing
Having a conversation with them would make my mind feel rushed.
Especially when Lan would wear a Lara Croft-style dress with flower petals.
Oh, do not be so coy, Lan. We knew that it was hot and that you wanted to capitalize on it
You had class even with flower petals.
Your face is red because you are afraid to admit it! (KISS)
Kathleen was always in a dress fitted to her form
Elegance from a pharmacist, even when the nylons were away from the March weather’s heat
Her physical beauty was matched by her internal beauty from
Her form was complemented by her taste for different cuisines, especially those with meat.
Both of them are beautiful
A sight that is viewtiful
A storm is brewing in the azure ether
Somber clouds loom with thunderbolts
Shadows enshrouded small seaside town
Tides crashes with ire against the rocks
Inner turmoil seethes in Lara's addled mind
Racing thoughts haunt through the years
Double personality was an escape from reality
Evincing the forbidden behavior by society
Cloudburst flooded the fishing coast by hours
Paralyzing a town when time seems stand still
Waterspout appeared in the fierce ocean waves
Desolating Cape Fishing Town without mercy
Shiny sun rays appeared in the sky after the storm
As a sign of hope between the desolated scene
Lara came out from the basement used as shelter
The inner and outer tempest concluded synchronously
For A Storm Is Brewing Contest
Sponsored by Kelly Deschler
Fifth Place
4-17-2016
Have to admit.. do have a bit
Of a trenchant penchant
Alright adore southpaw purveyors
Dabbles..pique aroused..rabbles in the stands roused
Unique sleek cheek of their chic espoused
Bowlers...reduced to trollopes
Us seduced by players with not
Just a dash of flash panache
But hefty lefty dollops
Innings built by the lilt of lyrical levers which tilt to the hilt
Lush lullaby scores..lapping sandy shores with endless encores
Who’s get the ring or Tiara as
Greatest Caribbean queen ever been seen..
(sorry notions of one of Billy Ocean's top pop potions)
Most blessed and least stressed..every ball caressed and finessed
Also always impeccably dressed…the Calypso
Maestro…lothario…romeo…guru…Brian Charles Lara
First one since the Don to go so much bigger
Score..such vim on a whim…verve and vigour
Doing what only Bradman can but with
More touch..canny elan trigger than rigour
Frightening elite feet..like lightning
Remember in his pomp the 1994 romp
First class farce..501 not out rout..never been out done
Then in 2004.. did it once more..set the new top score
He’s Kane and Abel…top of the table fable for sure
All time prime sublime number one?
From the land of the other hand
Can anyone outgun or out ton?
Travesty to shun..majesty
Artistry of the Lara tapestry
What he brought to the sport
Memories never wane
Prince of the Port of Spain
Relaxed and warm I'm feeling
under this warm blanket,
I can sleep out from the cold.
Sometimes I wonder
if others are so lucky,
I guess many don't,
then I get upset about my luck.
A hurting winter is here.
I wish it didn't hurt so much
for the ones that don't have a blanket to sleep under.
I wish the snow fell everywhere to fill dry fountains,
to keep happy every child
making angels on the snow.
Lara I am, a humble dog
with big wishes in these difficoult times.
I don't play a balalaika,
but I can play the sound
of every mind when is knocked down or when is above the moon.
I am Lara, a dog that feels
every second of your life,
I am the one that I am,
always there for you.
I have no doubt that
soon it will be summer.
The daffodils have taken flight,
fire no more warms the night.
The rain has gone,
no need to run for cover.
Not long now ‘til summer,
blossoms on apple trees,
monarch butterflies and bumble bees,
garden buds a kaleidoscope in flower
with fruit upon vine and bower.
No need for winter clothes,
sore throats, chills, stuffy nose.
Children laugh, their face aglow,
(they’re in the know)
soon it will be summer.
I have a friend, we love cricket,
he bowls - I take wickets!
One ball left in the over,
a sweet drive through extra cover...
that’s when you know it’s summer.
We poke fun at each other,
who’s the best, he’s like a brother.
I never move my feet -
“your arm’s always bent, Skeet,”
but I think we can both agree
I ain’t Lara and you ain’t Hadlee.
Written: circa 1995
———
*Wicket refers to the dismissal
of a batsman.
*An over is made up of six balls
bowled by the bowler.
*A drive is a cricket shot.
*Extra cover is a fielding position.
*Skeet is my friend and opponent.
A legend in his own mind.
*Lara and Hadlee are famous
players from the past.
She held a face up and it was price beyond and her presence eases everything around
God knows,
I consider it a blessing knowing her and a triple blessing now dating her
Her heart is precious and soft but unbelievably strong at the same time like Lara Croft
There is no doubt about my imperfection but her patience gives me a course to revolution
She is more to me than she thinks; she's my bread winner and I didn't buy bread to win her
This proves that her love is true; and more than she knows, she teaches me to love true
Sometimes I feel like i was sent to the place I find myself just to find her because of my growth since I met her
To be FRANK, she has the KEY to my heart and not to be a JUDGE, no one holds it better.
She eases my heart and puts it to rest with just a smile
But when she is the cause of its race, it sprints a mile
I guess some parts of my happiness, I owe it to her
I don't have to tell her this, cause it would reveal a scar
Never been a fan of exposing my vulnerabilities and weakness
But I can trust her enough because her heart bears witness
Sometimes I regret it and wish I never shared these feelings
But they now trump the thought that once dissed feelings
Form:
Who is the greatest from the land of the other hand…
The pure top draw..southpaw....
Lara or Spice Isle style.. guile and
Wiles of Kumar Sangakarra..
Who wouldn’t hanker in their seats
Various vicarious treats..Sri Lanka’s number one ranker..
Fancy dan talisman.. Tamil Totem of elan..
Run spanker & banker.
His unctuous umami like a sumptuous curry
Even at the end…flurry of runs in a hurry for Surrey…
Hands so soft….held aloft…the head so still…combined with
Unique refined technique echoes the past…remembers
Classical embers of the text and record book cast..
Plays the ball so God damn late…almost tardy…
Trait of a hardy..true first rate great…
Another Sanga banga..all thriller not a scintilla of filler..
Larrups another clanger…elegant and decadent..
Like having a Concorde in your hangar..
Redolent of a sublime almost forgotten time..
His timber timbre.. the sweetest rhyme…
Record heaper…acid jazz pizzazz..flair run reaper..
Smooth..rare groove sweeper..
Well honed treacle toned soul
Top notch keeper..& to be fair
A lovely mop of hair..
One of the gilded golden generation of glittering constellation sensations..
As a lefty…no fibs…his nibs might get first dibs
Superfly guy playing or…sashaying to his own homegrown celestial sky high…