Long Locket Poems

Long Locket Poems. Below are the most popular long Locket by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Locket poems by poem length and keyword.


Atlantis Via Kansas

I journey to Atlantis
This road I'm on goes on and on
Across the Plains of Kansas
Love is strong, let the dreams roll on
     
From the land of my father
From the land of my birth
To the girl of the blue crystal waters 
Between Heaven and Earth

She loves purple and sage
Dig her cinnamon smile and her butterfly ways
A sea of sunflowers, counting down the hours
To my Karma Girl

She's got bluebirds in her yard
Wears a locket cross her heart
Picture of me and my guitar
Her blowing the French harp
My Karma Girl
To Atlantis via Kansas, to my Cassandra
My Karma Girl
    
I journey to Atlantis
Through the valleys, over mountains
Across the Plains of Kansas
To the heartland, City of Fountains

She wore purple and sage
A flowered garland that she made
I just married her today, forever gonna stay 
With My Karma Girl
In Atlantis via Kansas with my Cassandra
With my Karma Girl
Love is strong, let the dreams roll on
Love is strong, let the dreams roll on

© 2006.
Form: Lyric


The Broken Locket

THE BROKEN LOCKET

He gave it to her when the knot was tied;
A silver locket on a silver chain.
Within, their tiny photos, side-by-side.
Where they would always be through sun and rain.
When closed, their lips met in a tender kiss,
Away from prying eyes of those around.
A secret symbol of their life of bliss,
And of their marriage built on solid ground.
He found the locket in two halves today,
Her tiny photo missing from her side.
And in between a tear-stained letter lay,
Explaining all the reasons love had died.
    He joined the halves together once again;
    His tiny photo’s lips now poised in vain 

24th June 2022
One in Five poetry contest
Sponsor - Joseph May
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Off the Midway Island Range

Lost in the ocean 
amidst an endless sea,
Hanging around my neck 
is a locket and key,
Picture dwells inside
no big mystery,
Portrait of you, 
but it belongs to me,

Can I have a little longer 
choking back the tears,
Wishing I could hold you
need to have so near,
Night time is falling 
moonlight starts to glow,
I open up the locket,
never to be closed,

My life raft is sinking 
water pours within,
Desperate situation 
trying to save my skin,
All I really care about 
not seeing you again,
Beautiful picture I gaze upon 
brings solace to my pain,

O darling if you hear me
love always overcomes,
What a way to go under 
your face is right in front, 
O god I’m so sorry 
have to take this plunge,
My only regret is leaving 
you, not how I succumb,

My tears are sweetened 
beneath salty waves,
Heart is pounding crazy 
first kiss we made,
Your with me as I perish 
my soul is not afraid,
Death in war’s nothing 
for you my life I freely gave.  


By 
David Kavanagh
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Catharsis Expunged

The purge started with honest appraisal.
A deep peer within to unlock the knots
    tying 'never too open' lockets shut.
There were regrets, fall-shorts, damning selfies
    all to be opened with tear drops and fears,
    exposing the scars, hurts, raw open wounds.
Effective catharsis by expungement
    was the only way to wipe the slate clean.
So with scalpel and scraper the rot gut
    was excised by wiping bad memories
    away with a total system refresh.
The unresolved was foiled with stark parries
    the aching boils were lanced and puss squeezed out
Each locket expunged was burnt at the stake
    so regrets and short-comings had no where
    to hide, no chance to beguile the future.
I enjoyed the glow and stench of the fire.
    catharsis smoke and ashes blackening
    the sky, carried away by wind disgusts.

Premium Member Return To a Harbor Town

My ship docks in this harbor town again.
I haven’t been here since God knows when.
I want to get a drink at this public house place.
There’s a girl named Brandy there with a beautiful face.

Oh Brandy, what a good wife she would be.
However, the first love of my life is the sea.
On another voyage, I had to go away.
I promised I would return to her someday.

Brandy is such a woman so fine.
She works at the pub serving whiskey and wine.
To any man who sees her, she lights his fire.
A wonderful woman like her would be any man’s desire.

The barkeep told me Brandy no longer works here.
“Remember the silver locket?  Brandy held it quite dear. 
She loved you very much, but she could not wait.
We are approaching her second wedding anniversary date.”
That was saddening news the man told me.
However, now that she’s married, I hope she’ll be happy.

Based on the 1972 hit song “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)” by the Looking Glass
Form: Rhyme


i text dead people for advice

i text dead people for advice.
not because they answer—
they don’t—
but because they never interrupt.
i tell my grandfather
about the boy who left mid-winter
and how my ribcage still
clicks shut like a locket
when someone new gets close.
he was buried in silk,
but i like to imagine
he’d wear combat boots now
and tell me to run before love
swallowed me whole.
i ask Sylvia
what to do
with the hurt that has no name,
the ache that sits like a houseguest
i never invited.
i send her my poems at 3 a.m.—
the ones with too much blood
and not enough metaphor.
she doesn’t reply.
but somehow, i feel seen.
sometimes i text
my childhood self.
she’s dead too,
in a way.
i ask her if the monster
was really under the bed
or if it slept in a room that never unlocked.
she sends back
a drawing of a girl
with no mouth.
i know what she means.
my inbox is a graveyard.
a collection of ghosts
who hold more kindness
than most living hands.
they never leave me on read.
they never ask me
to explain my sadness
in bullet points.
i text dead people for advice
because the living
tend to offer solutions
when all i want
is for someone
to hold the question.

Premium Member Topical Or Tropical No Biggie

Will we use something tropical? The novice nurse asked her.
Carmae secretly rolled her eyes knowing Scarlet meant topical.
However, she did not correct her, because this was her first day.
She would gently incorporate the correct word later in her learning.
She knew Scarlet would pick up on it, they always did, eventually.

This fresh young thing was not full of brass like the last one.
She was not any kind of duplicate, yet Carmae knew she would be delicate.
They were always super sensitive right out of nursing school.
“Is that a ladybug locket?” she asked her. Scarlet nodded, pleased.

She told an elaborate story about it, and the patient seemed to be fascinated.
Scarlet was charismatic, which is a great quality for a nurse to have.
By the end of the day, Scarlet was using the word topical instead of tropical.
Neither nurse mentioned the switch, becoming wise, empathetic co-workers.

Courtesy For The Broken

Courtesy For The Broken

Alchemy that lasts among the virtuous and wise 
Botany that casts its oxygenated strength during its demise 
Misery that is so vast and deep that is accompanied by resentful sighs 
Lonely elements that last among  loved ones without reprise 

Tormented sorrow of the regretful souls who cannot change their fate 
Undocumented tomorrows of the young and old lining up at heavens gate 
Augmented burrows of technology that the youth idolise and rate 
Discontented blows of the underprivileged who stand around and propagate 

Ornamental figurines that form a strange collection
Sacramental fractured dreams that mystify invention 
Consequential satire based memes that signify retention 
Influential capatalist scenes that can’t dignify to mention 

Symphonic compositions that profoundly illuminate the mind 
Bubonic inquisitions that eradicate mankind 
Subsonic intuitions that vibrate throughout what humans find 
Catatonic ammunition that leave the poor man to suffer blind 

Elucidate the problem properly and solve the puzzle for the masses 
Repudiate the omen overly while the flies drown in molasses 
Stagnate at the waters edge while the populations integrity crashes 
Instigate the uprising from the hedge as they’re ruled by a greedy fascist 

Condescending television hosts that smile like false prophets 
Trending internet chat thief that through the lies they profit 
Ascending through the war torn grief like photos in an ancient locket 
Pretending through the disbelief that you’re interested in the rockets 

Absurdist inclinations that refuse to compromise their form 
Introverted artistic invocations that defy conventional norms 
Perverted imitations that disguise the broken and forlorn 
Extroverted provocations that bring demise before the storm 

The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Colourfication

Colorfiction 


        I chanced to glance you sitting languid
        Sapphire of your locket dazzled on your deep cleaves.
        Your Crimson cheeks blushed as our eyes met.
        My Amber heart tried to knock your Emerald emotion.
              
        Violet flower clipped on your hair peeped in delight.
         Carnation of passion bloomed and turned dense.
         My heart beats danced from slow to quick rhythm. 
         I overlooked Ivory linings on your hair. 
        
        I tried to penetrate your Coral-hard looks.
        Crust might be Bistre, Pearls glittered in core of heart
        My silent soul resonated on your hidden affection.
        Inflamed love I just suppressed.

    03/10/16

     Fourth Place on Colorfication Contest By Silent One

                                                      First Place
    'Un-Rhy-Me Contest by Brian Strand

Memories I Keep

Inside this little locket of mine I keep all my memories of old 
childhood laughter shared with siblings, smiles of mom and dad
upon a floral bed of written words,  a scribbled diary of gold 
holding the treasures of a well lived life, a quiet story of youth  
Inside the ocean of my mind swims the history of my days 
high school dances  that never were and dates that never trailed  
sober with imagination I lived inside this tick tock amulet of mine
making up stories that brimmed with life and always kept time; 
I danced with every star, and waltzed with every dusk lit moon 
inside my room I was a trapped butterfly longing to be set free
and then the day came when love met me and I flew away 
to a land of greener pasture where my heart could finally sing 
A cameo, a broach, an heirloom of old, keeping me alive 
that is what my heart is, this is how it feels, as I grow old 
inside this little locket called my heart I keep all my memories     
although my youth has slipped away like yesterday's flurries, 
I keep each memory inside my trinket heart, all fire and soul 
arteries and vessel, all  pumping with life and all, very good.

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