Long Lemony Poems
Long Lemony Poems. Below are the most popular long Lemony by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lemony poems by poem length and keyword.
Never Too Late To Say "I Love You" Until...
Futile lamentations reverberate along
corridors of times long gone, this papa
tearfully apologetic revisiting his base,
fitfully lachrymose torturing unrelenting
voluminous wrongs against thee dearest
precious daughter aware poetic/ prosaic
ministrations cannot substitute bonafide
nor ameliorate cumulative forsaken joys
requisite to bolster compromised delicate
innocence exhibited upon begetting deux
darling (wool worth more than fine spun
gold) healthily nurturing priceless progeny
two quickly grown to young womanhood
priceless offspring, whose treasured quasi
nubile kindled joie de vivre far surpassed
petrified plaguing yours truly (particularly
during pre/ post pubescent phase), outlook
grim to take life by the horns, nee apathetic
pestiferous psychological, frankly zapped
wracked, plagued aversion to live steering
any natural borne autonomy, (within meek
minecrafted muffled mortgaged self) bereft
existence, (albeit manifesting during latter
sainted days of boyhood), a death grip vis a
vis anorexia nervosa (robbing, stunting, and
halting critical puberty) against attaining my
maximum potential, nee then and every sub
seek went till present day truncating, stifling
raining aftermath of torturous, noxious, jinxed
insufferably hellacious, (hence reiteration to
cease livingsocial, rather antisocial) under_
scored, ordained, narrated by whirled series
of unfortunate events, (without courtesy of
Lemony Snicket), which passivity degraded,
exacerbated, fouled... gradual punctuation to
adulthood overridden when me as man-child
never tested survival, but found this scrivener
beating hasty retreat defeated by emotional
illness demarcating the Waterloo which I
fitfully fought when mandatory ultimatums,
measures, dictates...forced eviction within
cocooned hideaway (such as bedroom at 324
Level Road), which parallel repeated when
decamped at 1148 Greentree Lane, the latter
poisoned your welfare, with dire declaration
of toxic dependence (Zison's harshness) fed
deprivation, and desperation, while ye bore
brunt of emotional, financial, mental...fallout
indelibly etched within impressionable
Tabula Rasa, now the anguished suffering
ye unfairly experienced.
AU REVOIR!
Hues of joy reveal the gentle touch of spring
Brilliant smiles of tulips and daffodils so bright
Whispering sensations of pleasure only flowers bring
Dancing to the glow of a lemony sunshine, worshiping
The Creator of hearts and souls, the hope, the light
Hues of joy reveal the gentle touch of spring
Grace brings the wonder of faith more alive than anything
His love rains down with feeling, passion bound to excite
Whispering sensations of pleasure only flowers bring
Laughing colors so beautiful they almost sing
Shadowing reflections with feelings that will unite
Hues of joy reveal the gentle touch of spring
Tender leaves bud as eager petals sway and swing
Blowing kisses against the stardust dreams of the night
Whispering sensations of pleasure only flowers bring
His wonderous brush paints silently, as He is king
There comes the time of appreciation for His insight
Hues of joy reveal the gentle touch of spring
Whispering sensations of pleasure only flowers bring
Springtime Villanelle Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
April 12, 2022
Automobile prohibitive maintenance costs
pitches me pitifully begging for alms
lamenting dog forsaken
melon collie unpleasant circumstances
pleading with outstretched palms
disgraced to beg, perhaps donate
major organ and/or entire body
to ease vehicular qualms
aha... methinks the missus could pose
as ventriloquist after mortician embalms
these lovely bones, but, hmm...
even then post mortem
agitation most likely becalms...
Straitjacketed impasse finds
yours truly going for broke
to nurse our 2009 Hyundai Sonata,
which monetary outlay doth yoke
mine fate heading, née accelerating
at ever increasing speed
emitting plume of smoke
which thick noxious exhaust
would immediately choke
any innocent wheel chaired,
or ambulatory pedestrian,
bicyclist (think Chernobyl),
a nightmare that did woke.
Mein kampf reduced between
a rock and hard place
analogous to trapped betwixt
Scylla and Charybdis
inadequate funds to purchase
newer preowned car,
nor paltry monies to erase
utter nightmare, yes
father did spring me
unexpected mullah, yet
the near future will menace
this dirt poor aging baby boomer,
and his moderately significant other,
she too needs more than solace
lacking gainful employment and
financial resources, maybe brazen
to broadcast such
amidst digital populace
such tsuris (Yiddish meaning
trouble or woe; aggravation)...
Just letting of figurative steam
emblematic of this easily
intimidated fellow with decent
original (long "e") meme
all throughout his life shouldered,
or voluntarily stationed to sidelines
courtesy crème de la crème
topnotch competitors within
human race attain the
supposed "American dream"
or similar facsimile thereof
finding one fool on the hill
gagging at extreme
pauperism, yes mainly linkedin
to series of unfortunate events
(Lemony Snicket would ogle,
envy chiefly hanker ring)
hashtagging me more supreme
regarding amassing adversity.
Thank you stranger near or afar
understanding how or why
Sylvia Plath crafted The Bell Jar
a cult classic, I would never
attempt to duplicate, my par
for the course literary contribution
might... humph earn me one lone star
if ever dabblings in scratching
out feeble efforts courtesy this word Tsar.
“The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply because they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.”
- J.M. Barrie, The Little White Bird
Robins, wrens, sparrows,
quivering, yet silent, still
on limbs and branches, boughs,
heavy with rustling leaves,
their feathers brilliantly flaunted,
in cloaks of crimson, indigo and lemony yellow,
creating music with arms, soft wings
singing to the shattered trees,
in altos, sopranos and gentle tenors,
laughing, chattering, chortling,
teaching the skies their cozy songs…
wrestling with the crisp of winter,
hesitating on the melody,
alive… more alive than the breathless winds,
shivering through the oaks and pines,
washing away all the sun’s spun wishes,
singing light on the ridges,
murmuring joy and peace and love,
in angelic voices, lifted in praise,
silencing the grief, the pain, the heartbreaking
in the distance,
the heart breaking, like a whisper…
birdsong, bird’s song,
alive and warm, in tones of hope,
poured out like the sun,
gentle and fond,
adoring, worshipful,
rising to the skies, tender
falling over the promises, the fanciful
reflections of a love,
who is peaceful like the dove,
bird’s reassuring, in hues, all colors,
rising and susurrant,…
praising, praying, promising
forever spun on gold threads of light,
softly falling on shadows,
restoring the life, resurrecting
insights, inspiring, imaginations,
alive… so alive, the bird’s sing
and, while the night, so silent,
presses in on the soul,…
we are remembering the call of hope,
peaceful and praising, every praising,
like the wind through the trees,
the singsong breeze,
each bird trembles with the need,
to please, simply please,
singing to the One who erases the dark,
fills the heart and silences the shame,
as the heart continues to pray,
and praise, oh, how they praise,
singing like the love who stirs life,
inside each story,
inspires love that is ever worthy.
Meet Him first, in prayers, then peace. Meet Him soon, in praise, sweetest praise. Meet Him last, when death silences the breath… then, in paradise, where His love will forever erase all the past’s pain, all the fears, the darkest days – with love that will always be the same, love that will forever remain! – by poet
In the still breath of an autumn, soft
Verses, visions, memories and contented
Feelings, drawn beneath the sentimental
Words, promises, peace and wisdoms, trembling…
Echoing hope across the breeze, windy
Trails of mystery, shadowed by the heart
Who feels like yesterday, though now passed,
Is dancing through the lemony leaves, in rustling…
Rusts and tangerines, mellow laughter
Coloring the oaks with a sense of grace,
Heartfelt intimacies, epiphanies, fantasies,
Playing melodies, songs with wings, inviting me…
To twilight edges of a lifetime, blessed by
Lingering moments, in Wednesday tears,
Pouring from the dewlike murmurings
Where light seeps in, through the reflections…
Arising beneath the mountain peaks,
Alive like the new day, before praise
Reveals the music of a life, sincere
Abiding in the carefully created…
Moments, before time left her doubts,
Resigned to the destiny, the cloudless
Skies, overcast with the mourning light,
Lasting to tell the world what it means…
To see through the darkness, considering
Serenity, soothing, silent sincerities, seeing
Answers to the wind’s soft blowing, moaning
Praising the One who made a way beyond…
Where the moments turn to shadow songs,
Where the twilight grieves for dreams long gone,
Where the promise are made and hopes paved
Where I know the meaning of praise, singing praise…
To the One who gave, gave and gave…
To save… oh, I’m so thankful for all He gave
To save… save me from the darkness, the pain
Of eternity without His love, the reason I obey….
I’m so thankful, all I can say…
Because He saves, because He forgave
I’m alive today, and I’ll forever say…
He is the only way – He is the ONLY WAY!
Scented Leaves
Flowery fragrance sorts divisive airflow and cooperates amidst plethoric aubergines that bathe breathlessly, brushing raised exemplars of strewn unfurled chartreuse fronds, lain in the wake of humble pattered feet enthralled in its tangy betrothed crisp path,
Ingratiating themselves against engaging tickles of countless laddered leaves being crushed, bursting citrus piquant squirts that flavors a blessed orangey tawny forest of verdurous lime greens and lemony leaflets of carpeted existence essences,
Autumn gifts a luminous prism of extraordinary combinations touching rainbow eyes to favor, and unimaginable pleasure of incalculable noses to savor, as per crowning Heaven, immerse its creation re sun-drenched over-shades lathered in a pool of multiple redolences.
2019 November 12
*1st Place*
SCENTED LEAVES
~~Kim Rodrigues
Telling "White Lies"
My mother got born November
thirteenth, nineteen hundred thirty five
within poverty stricken household
of Canarsie, Brooklyn, the youngest
(most mollycoddled) of four siblings,
experienced grinding poverty, no
matter maternal grandfather (Moishe
Kuritsky), a tailor he lacked drive
to support his family two parents +
remainder offspring, he helped sire
lacked positive role models, none the
less gumption taught her to strive
at tender age livid with rage to escape
caricature living poor, thus sought
employment when/wherever sheik hood
if necessary fibbed to survive
plus rash of healthy nurturing, and
absolute zero constraints, perhaps five
or thereabout years old attested
much later, suspected her papa did jive
with unspeakable improper behavior
(nobody dare discuss taboo issues),
yet intuition awoke within immoral
conclusion Harriet Kuritsky did arrive,
and perhaps resorted to stretching
the truth (fibbing a "white lie") the only
recourse available plied sweet innocence
knowing little or nothing about birds
feathering their nest, nor little about
buzzfeeding activity in beehive
naivete flirtatious coyness advantage worked,
I bet young thang did connive
and probably never did contemplate,
deliberate, generate and wrongdoing,
where mother of necessity spurred
angelic demureness strategy to contrive
securing bare necessities, hence fast
forward, when unsolicited advice given
to this sole son, or either sibling, (an older
& younger sister) tactics upbringing did deprive
ma mum of positive role models, hence
only blueprint to acquire essential needs
serendipitous series of unfortunate events
before Lemony Snicket did derive
school of hard knocks, (I do believe
formerly called Abraham Lincoln High)
rather than impugn, judge, revile, et cetera
kernels/nuggets of wisdom memory did revive
within my mind for rhyme, nor reason
blunt honesty, not always best policy
despite ten commandments
to husbands with many a wive.
Gentle like the tender touch
Of laughter, joy, hope
Her eyes are soft, so kind
Like a mellow whisper of calm
Serene and flowing with warmth
She is big, a giant of a girl…
Large boned and silent
Quiet as the night, just before
The raging of a summer storm
Pelting rain and winds
Bursting across the hills
Roaring gales and downpours
She is wise, a little reluctant
Hesitating, just on the verge of
Bellowing, she falters, listening
To the nuzzling of her calf
Her little youngster, so affectionate
Just a whimper and his mother
Comes running, protecting, defending
Her motherly instinct, intensive
Gentle like the lemony sunshine
Stirring spirits to listen, to hear
The echo of glorious rainbows, birdsong
Coloring the skies in reflections of peace
Her coat is burnt orange, like a sunset
And she breathes life through nostrils
Inhaling and exhaling the miracles
Stirred to life in the dust of a barn
Where her tenderness is rewarded
With grain, corn and fodder, her gift
For gracing our hearts with such quiet charm
Cruel fate nixed our sites set for buying a hoagie
Yours truly and the wife
tended to some errands,
which included going
to the Limerick,
Pennsylvania Citizens Bank
for me to rectify
an erroneous address
indicating I Matthew Harris
purportedly and presently domiciled at:
96 West Miner Street
(and whereinthehellis)
Coaldale, Pennsylvania
18218-1017
which address listed after viewing
online banking screen
indicating Good morning,
afternoon or evening,
then scrolling down
to sought after preference selecting
either checking or savings account
then clicking on View
Statements in Document Center
subsequently choosing
timeframe, account and type),
while the spouse
patiently waited in a hot car,
(slightly more comfortable
than a cat on a hot tin roof)
then going to ALDI'S, GIANT
(the latter place
to dump off paper for recycling
and making a beeline to purchase items
in the clearance section),
felt sorely disappointed,
when a series of unfortunate events
(even Lemony Snicket
would have been dumbfounded)
occurred when earlier today
and last least on the agenda
found me headed
at the Royersford, Pennsylvania Wawa
for what I envisioned being
a mouthwatering (yellow) "submarine"
or just "sub" the general term
for both the bread roll and sandwiches
made with it in both the USA
and other English speaking nations
and lastly Wawa
right there in Royersford
felt jinxed cause we
(hungry enough to eat a horse),
could not purchase
(what both of us imagined to be)
our delectable aforementioned sandwiches
which DID NOT
find me being thee unsung hero
(regarding a damsel in distress)
actually courtesy using the EBT
(electronic benefits transfer)
SNAP food card declined part of the sale,
nor could I access (withdraw) funds
using a recently issued debit card
farcical indicating expiration date,
when the spouse gave me a dour
facial recognition expression
(and she feigned pouting like a child),
cause her husband
could not head back to the house
at Pooh Corner
with aforementioned treasured commestible
already finding us salivating
like Pavlov's dog,
which dude (who looks like a lady,
with sweet emotion,
especially after washing
and drying my hair) came back
to the car empty handed.
Like dewdrops
Moisten the leaf
Tears sting as they fall
Filling me with relief
I cling to the silence
Surrounding me
With hues of sadness
Inspiration lights
My heart
My hope
My faith
With grace and peace
Music within the dream
Of a new dawn
A new day
A new way
Like the flickering
Starlight
Falling across the night
Shadowing the heart
In halos of warmth
Your kindness whispers
Tenderly, a caress
Breathed across my life
Imagination grows
Inside
Where it rides
The flowing in my veins
Love that dances
Through my mornings
Dawning happiness
With a still, small voice
My choice of a lemony
Sunshine roar
From the sky
Like the ocean
Hurling waves of melancholy
Through my thoughts
Blessing me with breathtaking
Roars of mystery, growing
Wise with the tide
I delight in the water’s edge
Where I find seashells
To hoard with hope
For the day when I will know
God’s hand in mine
Coloring my heart in light
Music on a clear, cool night
Delight enlightens my sight
Inside, I glow
Because I know
I am His
And He is mine