Long Leaves Poems
Long Leaves Poems. Below are the most popular long Leaves by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leaves poems by poem length and keyword.
Death is a thief who steals
The seed of life by stealth
And without violence, but he
Is forgetful too;
He leaves the flower
Of life knowingly or unwittingly.
The tree is now dead looks like a stone
Of thousand years black,
Fissured and tan-faced,
But still no hopes to fall down:
The secret is that she holds the invisible
Beauty steady and faithful.
Although it is dead by body but
Still alive in her warm sighs of beauty.
To make the unseen beauty visible,
You've to be poetic.
The body is reduced to ashes
But beauty never perishes.
Between a dead tree and me
I find a sweet simile!
Dreams Forever Awake
by Odin Roark
A father dreams of getting it right finally
succumbs to sweat drenched nightmares
Somewhere
he stumbles about
to clear the room
guitar
video games
posters
Broad stairs to the garage
once of stable hardwood
now rickety rotted support
creaking of memories crushed
once plush carpet soft with warmth
now but cold cinders beneath his feet
Sensory deprivation smiles
releases starving glimpses of love
once bathed by generous moonlight
spilling from window
to banister
to door
to now barren concrete
Here
children's eyes once visualized
what freedom's wheels would be like
The father wanders outside
stares blankly on the gray-white night
reflecting off algae encrusted pool
now with but deflated basketball
adrift
Through surrounding weeds and shrubs
GI Joe action figures shimmer their loneliness as well
staring like him at the pool's granite carved beachhead
imagination's vast ocean of backyard fantasy
now quiet
make-believe war
since reduced to the calm of real battles lost
jungle rot's toxic fumes
saturating all
No prisoners taken
History
The scuffling of his slippers
rake the humid night's heaviness
like sandpaper dragging across
memory's fine threaded tapestry
Lying down among the overgrowth
he peers through broken limbs
crumbling leaves
moon
water
house
Eyes squeezed shut deliver regret's creative gallery
a lifetime installation
perhaps never meant to be walked through
Yet...
Such are musings
sometimes destined
to be but nightmares
while dreams remain forever
awake in the heart
Fireflies flicker like falling stars
that hover in a garden thick
with memories of times we spent
beneath a smiling moon.
Oak leaves gently ride the breeze
that softly blows its tender breath
and quickly dries the tears that fall
from sad and misty eyes.
Ghostly sounds of whistles blast
from ships now far away from shore,
their clearly outlined silhouettes
dark against the moonlit sky.
Thoughts congeal, a cold, hard mass
obstructs sweet memories of the past,
replacing them with vivid visions
of our last goodbye.
Eerie calls from gulls above
now echo cries within my heart,
its shallow beating reminiscent
of the pulse of time.
All too soon our love affair
became a part of fate's discards,
forgotten vows now languishing
beneath a distant moon.
September floats down from the trees in leaves
Piling up her yellows, reds, and browns
Squirrels scamper around the trunks of the oaks
Chasing each other, readying their winter antics
September brings cooler evenings, giving us hope
Sweaters and jackets are ordered, plaids are popular
School is starting; college freshman are away from home
There is eager anticipation and delight in the air
September readies us for football games and bonfires.
State fairs are over, carnivals are repacked up.
Pumpkins and cinnamon parade around in decorative fashion.
October is not yet here but there are whispers.
I seek you in the silence of the night when the moon rises over the sleeping world,
On deserted streets where memories ripple like a delicate mist,
Where every whisper becomes a murmurous carpet of images and dream,
While the heart beats ancestral rhythms, calling you from the abyss.
I lose myself on forgotten paths where quietness blinks from its shadows,
With thoughts of our love, sweet and bitter, a balm in the night,
Rare as the dew on leaves that perishes at the dawn of the first light,
Waiting to soothe your sadness with the verse of a divine song.
Longing lures me, a phantom on your invisible trails,
I search fervently for you, the solace of the restless soul,
In the cold air, with the promise that, should I find you, I will stop time in its tracks,
To weave you a bed of flowers and wake you with the sweet kiss of deep fire.
Days tumble, deceptive shapes, towards you and my quest,
I will wait for you with an open heart, understanding, and inner peace,
With the belief that dreams find shelter in our vibrant reality,
I might ask you, there on the frozen shores of time, "Do we live our love, or do we merely dream it?".
FOR PAM
On this Spring night. I would love to take you to dinner,
Because,no matter what,you did treat me like a winner.
We both were as different,as any two humans can be.
But love and loyalty bound us in moonlit immortality.
I have not met any like you,who never tried to change me.
And the laughs we had refreshed me as breezes from the sea.
Oh,how strikingly different in fashion we did dress.
Me, lik a wild Samba dancer,you,neatly and perfectly pressed.
There will never be another woman so very sweet.
We, so strikingly, different, jocular women on Oak Street.
I miss so our hour long chats on the-phone,
And then~the Lord decided to take you to His home!
I’d bring you back, if only for one lovely,Spring, night .
Dearest Pam…if only I could…..if only I might!
I envision your page-boy, auburn hair, shining in the sun,
As close to an Angel on earth,you were,smiling, having fun.
Thank you for having magic, divine,exquisite jour de vivre .
I hear your laughter in the whisper of moonlit, Spring leaves.
4/26/2023
Dedicated to my forever friend~~ Pamela
Icy sidewalks reflecting blinding sunlight
As I march on in an unclear state of mind.
Deciding, with fate I no longer want to fight.
I feel in this grief I don't care if I'll go blind.
Surface of all the snow will always shimmer,
Even while I feel faraway from my body.
As the day declines, the sky grows dimmer.
I am simply not all here, as I miss her dearly.
I walked for two hours beneath winter sun,
But I still feel at such a loss like a tree.
Like letting go of its leaves, I let go of a ton.
Feeling I'm between worlds, somehow free.
Just as water has memory, I recall fondly
All of the times we talked, played, and ate.
She's gone, but somehow still within me.
I spiritually inherited her every good trait.
AUTUMN IS NEAR
Poem written for and submitted to “SEASONS NOW POETRY CONTEST,” August 6, 2025, Nette Onclaud, sponsor
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
brushstroke of a cooler breeze paints my skin.
golden rays slip behind the horizon,
velvet curtain drawn across stage of sky.
summer bows with grace; fall waits in the wings.
cicadas' applause fades to hushed tones.
the sun dips lower; the days grow shorter.
green leaves slowly shift to ochre and rust.
painter’s palette spilling across the ground,
each leaf blends hues onto the earth’s canvas.
with expectation, autumn holds its breath,
a hush before the overture of chill.
season’s harmonious intermission.
Midnight crashes through the sky like a rocket parachuting out of space; it filters dust on earth and wakes up the entire human race. It wasn’t a meteorite falling from the sky, or an alien saying goodbye, it was a helicopter searching for somewhere to land but it ends up on a pile of sand on the side of the street.
Midnight with its solitude moves deftly through the town, trying on pockets shirt and gown. The children were fast asleep, but my imagination was floating in the deep. Something was about to happen, but I could not tell from where, but my heart was prepared to go there.
I flew over mountains and cities, with its bushy overpass staring at tall blade grass standing like giants in the wilderness and I watch dwarfs carrying a cross. Some form of ritual was about to transpire in the bush, but the sound of the helicopter scared them away.
They hid behind tree branches in the bushes and peeped through the leaves while other surrender on their knees. It was just hills, valleys, mountains and rocky plains; the houses were fast asleep as midnight parade through the street.
Strange sound bellows through the wilderness and the sound of the soldier’s footsteps marching along the path through the bushes got closer, and gun shots whistle in the air as if no one was there. As we passed through the street, we found a comfortable place to land on a mound in a clear path with the village staring at us in the dark.
Strange sounds can rapture your soul; strange sound can make nerves meet; strange sound can make your heart weep. We follow the sound to the village but nothing spectacular was there to see, but further up the road something profound was waiting for me.
When the village is asleep the universe weeps; when the village is asleep, grown men falls on their knees and weep, when the village is asleep, strange cries rumbles from behind the doors and the ships come anchoring on the shore.
They are not fisher men or missionaries sent from heaven, they are explorer of the world that moves from door to door, and the cries you hear at midnight are the cries of women and children, hauled out of their bed with guns pointed to their head and taken to the ship for profit.
The midnight cries lit up the sky; the midnight cries is the sound of human trafficking in the country.
Sweet summer, days long and romance blooms
Salty ocean or powerful rain, a choice of lovely perfumes
Rich green grass, landscape full of assorted hues
Sunrise mornings, feet wet from over night dews
Hummingbirds fill their bellies, right In front of your eyes
Clouds part and fog fades to expose the beautiful skies
Nothing as sweet as bare feet and sun kissed golden skin
Late nights, spent outdoors as the sunlight is growing thin
As with all things good, summer will end too soon
A chill will fill the air turning the leaves a beautiful but deadly maroon
Days will draw shorter, the dew will turn to ice
Part of the season's perfection is that your only served a slice