Long Locks Poems
Long Locks Poems. Below are the most popular long Locks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Locks poems by poem length and keyword.
BEDTIME MAGIC
Sprawled under nightscape of galaxy bright
Tiny sequins pulse on blaze of luster,
A beaded stars nova bursts on flight
Into a full-blown montage, the lawns flicker
Reams of tales climb on visions lit by dappled view
While children’s breaths gleam of fantasy hayrides,
And fairies jut out from chapters to touch the hue
Yearning to blend into a ladder that divides
The seashore from a skyline blushing streams;
On one unmentionable lightness of firework glory
Tinseled rhinestones kindle hopes of angelic dreams,
Holding a cachet of flowered moon for bedtime story
Enchanted, their mother blows a peppermint kiss
Staring at gems waltzing high up on glittered air,
Threads of her locks meshed by twinkles of lullaby bliss
As graceful nebulae cuddle sweetened hours, ever fair
Rounding her infants, wonders of night magic sigh
Stars radiant dip into eyes; winking good night, goodbye!
©
** *
For Gautami Phookan's Sweetest Touches Of Verse
By nette onclaud
Sound of sea is locked within seashell beached
Just lift a shell to your ear to hear sea sigh.
Morn is locked within dawns red sky horizon
Like flower bud bursts into daybreak.
Sap and sinew of living tree trunk
Is locking within its wood when cut and dried.
Knitters love and enterprise is purled into garments
Finger strokes coiled and entwined, locked within.
Photos frozen, snap shots, shuttered images frozen
Have memories locked within, auras that come to life when images viewed.
Locked within a diamond is flash of light and sparkles bright
Like a star it twinkles its light and shimmers at night.
Locked within a pebble on bed of stream are the clunks and thuds
That have ground it smooth during its passage downstream.
Locked within love locks padlocked to bridge
Is the hope that love locked up, cannot escape and flee.
For nothing is completely new since the big bang exploded
All things solid and spiritual have their birth and legacy locked within.
The threads of time's passage coiled and entwined
Locked within all matter until the end of time.
Everything has some within in tidbits locked inside
'Tis the within of things in lockets.
Creativity emerges with two wings,
One aids her flying.
The other like a sting,
That aids her on intuity piercing.
But she looses her wings,
Left with one but nothing.
Music pitch her tent on the mountain,
She travels from dale to fountain.
Her voice incurs pleasant thrills,
Set apart trees and rigid hills.
Boasting in pride she looses the melody to
sing,
And now can't again pleasant tunes ring.
Philosophy saunters in with pride,
He takes every eyes on ride,
Set rules that opens rigid hearts,
Locks back and erect on it a flat.
But a-day, religion comes in with haughty
humility,
And dashes apart his entity.
Statistics announces her emergence,
Heighten rules,awkward ideas and
reference.
Deceiving notions and deceptive beauty,
With relying and relaxing duties.
Bewitch with mean rules,earthens despise
her,
And death makes a league with her.
Sport sprays schemes and skilfulness,
He kindles in variant hearts readiness.
Sweeps along million souls in a glance,
And ushers them into ambiguos trance.
Twisted legs,muscle pulls,dislocations rings,
And Debate hijacks the mic. to sing.
Debate soars in the sky on her regalia-
seriousness,
Erecting hearts and grooming zealousness.
Ideas jerks around with her on the pitch,
Hands jams,swimming eyes made reach.
But because it's a game of win or loose,
Earthens retreats and gets adjustable laws
infuse.
But their is onething that thrives at last,
Yea,the immortality of art.
Come hail,come rain,come sunshine,
In autumn,winter and summer she did
shine.
Varying to creativity,music through debates,
Arts beauty governs the outward and the
innates.
Their is onething;
Immortality of
Art!
'Cos in heaven
She thrives;
Art!
The creator brings
Men together;
Art!
He create universe
In diverse;
Art!
He made paradise,
A-Lovely land;
Art!
Eternity to come,
Everlasting form;
Art!
All will exist and die,
But their is onething,
An indestructible thing;
'Immortality of
Art!'.
17:16:08:20:15
As she waked through the door I could tell by the look in her eye
Exactly what she wanted and I would be the one to give it to her
Sitting her down I wrapped her firmly and released the golden locks
Which flowed like silk down her sides
My well-oiled tool stroked its way thru her thick mat of hair
Giving her what she wanted as best as I could continuing my motion
First from the rear, the from the sides and finally from the front
As I spun her around to see she begged for just one more inch
Telling her I would do my best I obliged and finished shortly after
As I uncovered her she rose from the chair beaming with satisfaction
I asked if I would see her again, she did not respond
I knew she would return again just as before and I would be ready.
Let's go ice skating, like when we were kids!
We skated indoors at the Chicago Arena.
My leather brown case with peacock satin
interior,
And gold locks that shined like the morning sun.
Those figure skates, polished were my pride and joy.
The Arena was huge and had its own organ.
So proud we were to skate to real music.
I was so unsure of myself, my parents hired a trainer.
Clarence was an experienced and gentleman and
par excel lance.
I learned to not be fearful.
We skated for hours....my cousins, friends and I.
Those were such special, dear hours of learning and
friendship!
Falls and spills,we thought, golly we are skilled!
At real ice shows we were admired costumes and how they
went so fast...
.....Alas, the decades have, too!.....
The Zamboni of life cleared all of this away.
A wondrous memory of many loved winters past.
How much this heart wants to bring back the joyous ice skating,
the days of fun, companionship and young, free, laughter!
~Thanks Mom and Dad~
11-15-2020
NOTE ..I FOUND NOTHING FOR ICE SKATING WHICH THIS IS ABOUT.
Morning knocks on us
As I commingle with him,
My mentor ,with dread of poetic locks
With God, not of them became parts
For my thoughts still shrouded of secrecy.
Of no count are them
Drinking from the calabash of ignorance
Ascribing artificial misery of man to God
Dreaming of it a time of His ascendence . . . throne
To the abysmal of our own earth of gloominess
For a case already settled in Paradise
Heaven knows that God has given water freely
But they tag price on poor pure satchet for us
Our land speak of bountiful crops
Yet our mouth chew bountiful hunger,
NO! No!! No!!! not a case with God again
It is a case of them the ruling vampires.
The dreamers must stop dreaming
Time for the ignorants to join us
To bring down the vampire's empire
Our case is with them, not with Him up above.
Alayande Stephen.T
16th, August, 2006
2.35am
There are times the wind will blow a door right in your face.
Sometimes, a door is slammed by members of the human race
There are doors designed to keep some people in and others out.
Sam did not pay his rent; so he was evicted and the door was locked.
Mr. Riley rented the same apartment and was given the door keys.
Some doors have locks on their knobs and also deadbolt locks.
I use to tell my kids, "Until we get to heaven, always lock the doors".
Thieves and robbers will never enter through the doors of heaven.
I once held keys to unlock the doors of banks and other secured places.
I would make deliveries of overnight mail and quickly exit the door.
One morning a bank employee forgot his keys and asked me to let him in.
Without hesitation, I told him "No, it's against policy", and drove away.
If the door bell is in disrepair, there's no choice except to knock, knock, knock.
Sam bought a house, but didn't realize his new home came with sliding doors.
He overlooked 'the door details' in the blueprints of his new home.
So each time he went to check in on the progress of his house,
everything was fine except the doors he assumed were temporary.
He was not use to going through such doors in a private residence.
Sam learned at least one more thing about doors he had not considered.
He was aware of 'door prizes', but learned the hard way about 'door surprises'.
03292017 cj PS Contest, Doors, Richard Lamoureux
His interest awakens as a young woman
sauntered in the pub as he laid eyes on her bosom.
Enticing from the moment he saw her.
Her skin purrs of warm weather
copper honeysuckle, her eyes
waves' deep royal blue skies.
She wears a black plunging neckline leather dress
hugging her form, outlining every wonderful
feminine curve. She's striking and beautiful.
His thoughts a blur while she leans teasing
with eloquent banter.
With a smile she kicked off her black patent five
inch heels, singing as the riff of the music came alive
filling the room. He sought her unable to turn away
her teasing resistance and her friendly, bantering play.
He heard the rhythm trying his hardest to keep his distance.
Her wavy red hair loose a riot around her face
as she listens and dances across the room,
while the rest of her long locks fell down her back.
With the music going she closed her eyes
and did a little spin, there was a delectable teasing,
bright smile when she opened her eyes.
You tease me so nicely.
2-3-2018
(described in ~thirty lines of rhyme)
Might help explain how fruit
full this harmless poetic brute,
(a Methacton School of hard knocks
grad), who sports astute
demeanor with ample
brew netted locks,
vaguely androgynously cute,
his trademark signature hirsute
unstyled wavy hair
tell tale characteristic,
not that I care if anyone
gives rats ass and/or hoot
bummer attire acceptable since
long unemployed and
recipient with meager loot
receiving social security
disability to boot,
nonetheless can while
away unlimited numbers
of wee hours into morning
yea ideally best time to sleep,
but also most optimal,
while the missus thrashes
in bed thankfully mute
unless ya don't count
flatulence she doth toot
disrupting and derailing
train of thought
courtesy trumpeting glute.
Your Best New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Do some unpleasant memories fade away?
Or does the mind have a protective guard,
That, at times, locks the door to the past,
And shields the soul from agony's crush.
Do some memories serve as wise tutors,
That instructs the mind from time to time,
Lest the brain's library becomes forsaken,
Void of guidance for life's daily challenges?
Memories can plague the mortal mind.
They are often protesting against stiff resistance,
Demanding its rightful role and sacred duty,
To catalog the experiences of human events.
Memories acknowledge good and bad events.
They do not euthanize the painful truth,
Nor do they embellish or rewrite the facts.
They exist, impartial and unyielding.
Memories can be either friend or foe.
Perhaps that's the constant inward fear,
Why we are wary of the sentinel's mind,
Unsure what memory will breach that door