Long Lavender Poems
Long Lavender Poems. Below are the most popular long Lavender by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lavender poems by poem length and keyword.
Glistening, like dewdrops on a frosted moment,
Glitter sparkling in September’s soul,
Stirring the spirit with heavy hopes, dreams
Alive in the one who can see beyond the traces of a chill,
Into the melancholic prayers, erasing soundless tears,
Embracing the sincerity of a heart who believes
Even the silence of the most vibrant trees – rhythms
Searching for the light who breaths
Beneath the weight of a mystery, autumn’s still, cool gasp
Praising the Creator of light, love, life
Flowing with stardust blessings, embracing
Winds of lavender time, in cobalt skies,
Twilight tempts the night to hear the silence,
Blessing the nestled leaves, the stunning breath
Defeating all the darkness with the grace,
Whispering through the light, glowing through time,
A heavenly night, falling on the hills
Blowing through the memories in tones of grace,
Raining down songs of hope, through the serenity,
Across the seas and through the valleys,
Past the Creator’s brilliant heavens,
Into the hues of an October melody,
Trembling beautiful, stars reflecting the gentle,
Sensing the creativity, the gestures of joy
Moments brimming with glowing thoughts,
Winds blowing through the oaks, the pines, the silence
Remembering what it means to believe,
In the One who continues to protect the seas,
The One who gives hope to you and me,
The Maker of the stars, the Creator of the trees,
The One who brings the stardust dreams,
Guides the soul and sends hearts true peace,
The One who I know, like I know autumn’s grief,
The One who takes me through the darkest dawns
Into the glowing moments, when light erases
Each evening’s black, with a hope that comes back
After the stardust autumn finally grieves
And takes the darkness with a sense of what it means
To just agree, He is the answer, the hope, the grace
That helps me to face each November night,
With the assurance that, someday – He’ll be coming back
Someday, all the glistening glow of stardust on Autumn leaves
Will remember the truth about the heart’s peace,
The assurance that comes from the soul’s true belief
In the One who brings spirits their most assured relief,
The promise of a heaven, where He’ll take away all grief,
The promise of a home where we’ll never have to leave,
A place where Autumn never feels the wings of each falling leaf.
Because I dared, I have tonight
This is my flight into soft light
Where flowers drenched with dew,
delight, as canopy of sky turns heavenly blue.
Because I dared, I have new twilight
With hues of evening glow
And serenity, as I converse with trinity.
Because I dared,soft sanctuary I'll rely on
With lavender, sage, and myrrh; when
Rain song by candlelight I'll savor
And ambiance of stillness beckons.
Because I dared, I live life in verse
With iris colors painting my summer
Unlike any other; because I dared.
Because I dared, I feel zephyr weights
Not hater's hate
Yes, I have cruised through troubled tides,
Because I dared;
Long before new moon, new insight, new flight
Now I face the clearing... because I dared.
*
I remember it being green. The
color so sublime that it takes
away melange of misery. The
wallowing self in the streets
that leads nowhere. I remember
them being brown. The path so
stern that you might want to mi
-ss it but it is so hard to do just
that. It often reaches to an aban
-doned building, the cracks and
crevices are hosting a lot of
yellow within it. The kind of yell
-ow that makes you want to have
ice lollies. I remember the building
being grey. Carrying on it's should
-ers the dullness, the hate, the ugly
associated to it. The yellow tells a
different story. It doesn't care
about the green, the red, the grey;
the misery. There's blue directly
diagonal to it and in it there's a who
-le expanse of pigments. The hues
and the tints that are just wondero
-us for many but for yellow, it's
what the world is. This city is beige,
it always has been beige but if you
squint your eyes at a precise angle,
you'll see lavender falling down the
sky and everything will be fine.
do you dress with shapeshifting dreams,
when the blanket of eyes unfolds
reeling... a realm of myriad realism ~
in echoes from elements of delusive domains?
there's a veil so thin, enlightened between ~
t r u t h and l i e ... f i r e and a s h ,
and must you lose your eloquent elixir
to inhale their dusty deceptions?
when we only need to choose not to conform,
and resolve to realise that every lifeline
is a palpitating paradox in this musical mosaic ,
~ of possibilities and promised uncertainties ...
life is what is faithfully lived ~
through a lavender lens made for not two,
but one, unseen in the metaphysical ~
yet felt closely in the inner sanctum,
resting within the runes of the lotus chakra
and bridging the balance between
the bleak blankness breathing in space ~
where memories flow distant
in the marrow of astral mantras ...
as everything fades from this funeral flame
I will not be lost, but found... a homesick soul,
the searcher of silence, that sleeps within
the spirit of the One, my divine sculptor ~
in his purified prayers, desires lose their form,
when the seventh heaven rehearses
a ray of selfless spiritualism amongst the stars
syncing salvation as a rhythm ~ a crystal pulse,
flickering through the illusion of solidity ...
“birds care not for whom they sing” Quote by: Silent One
The Gemini garden is in full bloom
Looking glorious in the month of June
The sound of silence, apart from birdsong
Is magic to whom the garden belongs.
Birds sing intermittently all day long
It’s their language spoken in tweet-along
Their tunes are music to us humans too
Do they know that? one would hope that they do.
Rose and honeysuckle, jewels of June
In a vase boom ambience of a room
Lily of the valley and lavender
In Gemini gardens add their lustre.
Roses, being the symbol of romance
Grace the air with their alluring fragrance
Honeysuckle too are a gift God-sent
As are all flowers, wafting heaven scent.
At the close of day when moon and stars glow
Nature puts on a magnificent show
Stupendous delights in silence of night
In Gemini gardens, peace does ignite.
The old fashioned monsoons
Meant for the flowers and cacti of Arizona California
And New Mexico
Have fled those deserts and dusty reservoirs
To find a new friend instead in Michigan
Up here in the Great Lakes
We’re not used to summer waterfalls
And sweaty doors
Swollen
Refusing to fit their frames
Stair railings sticky to the grab of hands
Hostas
Soaked and dripping
From late afternoon and overnight rain
Shaking their elephant ears
To the canes of a next-day morning sun
Shimmering to the swab of legendary Bumblebees
Lavender born again
We should fill our canteens with this new paradise
Wait at the edge of our frontier with these gifts
For our brother and sister American migrants
Who will crawl here on their knees
At some point
Or we could build a “great beautiful wall
It’ll cool down”
To keep those parched rapists murderers and deniers out
At least
Until this dusty herd of yesteryear
Moves past us and with us
Up the stairs to Canada
And then it will be we
Who knock on that door
Ajar
To see if we are allowed in
From there?
In a someday soon?
It will be like the Earth’s atmosphere itself
Peeling off into space for the barren moon
Mars or Neptune.
Höfuðlauss Mantolatry (Headless Mantis-Worship):
Hold a conch shell,
They said I could hear the ocean.
Yet I don't need one,
To drown.
I don't need one to drift away,
Lost..... unbeknownst to the waves or myself.
Clawing at the shoreline,
Trying to get a grip.
But my fingers only close on emptiness........
Oh, but sweet surrender—
The final hitch in my breath,
And I'm gone......as everything grows cold.
Just another stone to sink when skipped,
Whispering with a lisp I speak of death.
Yet I tell you now,
Till it happens you don't know the truest peace.
Smoothed out by tides of memories that persist,
This is when identity shifts.
Like jagged glass,
The past once cut.
But even now......that lost its touch.
Coalescent stitches in a canvas of skin,
This is the macrame of drowning in identity dissolution.
Rip out my veins,
The missing thread.
The ink upon the page,
The singular self is dead.
And yet I watch as Mr. Grim just walks away.
Eh.....what did I expect?
Here I walk with ghosts beneath the bridge to Gleymisheimr,
Under a lavender moon in the sky of laudanum—
Trapped between breathing and drowning.
Quicksilver lips dripping with mercury—
As I surpassed the veil and held my tongue.
Even now they say I'm odd,
Praying to the severed head—
The mantis skull became a God.
My final prayer to silence,
Lifted high.
Living life so dead inside,
But I can't feel it.
Numbed out like a skeleton,
And I can't cry.
~Æris~
LAVENDER LADY
She was my lavender lady;
Standing by the lake,
Gazing across the sky-blue water
At who-knows what in the distance.
She was the very essence of elegance.
Spurning the mini-skirted fashion of the age,
Her flowing summer dress
Modestly reached mid-calf.
I was not given to approaching perfect strangers
(And I use the word ‘perfect’ advisedly)
But I was drawn to her.
Like a moth to a flame?
Iron filings to a magnet?
Choose your own simile.
“Lovely day,” I ventured,
“For gazing across lakes.”
“Very pleasant,” she responded, coolly.
“Do you come here often?”
I heard myself say, with horror
And caught a glimpse of amusement
In those pale blue eyes
At the outrageous cliché.
“Did you really say that,” she asked,
“Or I did I imagine it?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I always get tongue-tied
At moments like these.”
“I see. And what sort of moment is this then?”
“!t could be a moment of destiny.
“Hmm,” she said, “and, then again, it could be
An insignificant moment in time”
She turned to walk away.
“Lavender really suits you,” I tried.
But she kept on walking.
I called after her.
“You didn’t answer my question,”
“What question was that?”
She asked, over her shoulder.
“Do you come here often?”
She laughed
“Come again tomorrow and find out.”
19th September 2020
Clutching at Straws contest
Sponsor Kai Michael Neuman
In Silk and Dreams, breakfast at Tiffany’s
nights of lavender lace, mornings with dew
a highlighted garden of mysteries
waterfall wishes, windblown thoughts of you
In a playground of desire, succeeded
candle flickering a flame, whispers true
a familiar song- Just What I Needed
waterfall wishes, windblown thoughts of you
In a Shakespearean Sonnet, refrain
nights of lavender lace, mornings with dew
echos in flight, blossoms against the rain
waterfall wishes, windblown thoughts of you
In blushing shades and twilight symphonies
In Silk and Dreams, breakfast at Tiffany’s
____________________
* Just a little Scribble *
(Because Love is in the Air)
Songs ~
Deep Blue Something - Breakfast At Tiffany's
The Cars - Just What I Needed (1978)
Spooned together they held a silver moon in their hearts
Lined their bedspread and table with memories of one star
Moulded from cloud dust to the sound of lush orbital spin
It never mattered who brought food for their regular feasts
Whether fast food or a la carte menus or a bunch of grapes
Maybe two olives draped onto a lavender wreath offering
They never lost passion for dining al fresco or lined in silk
Robed or naked they followed courses of harvest and joy
At times poverty struck but they always grasped full measure
For compassion and kindness needed no fancy embellishment
Their spoon was pewter not golden and gathered life’s patina
But they polished in rag clothes or satin and shone all the way
At times they painted words on skins in crumbs and sweet sauce
Licked kissed and savoured what mixed with fragrant side dishes
Received what’s on offer and scooped up refection and gratitude
03rd October 2019