Long Longingly Poems
Long Longingly Poems. Below are the most popular long Longingly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Longingly poems by poem length and keyword.
Long and softlike Habutai silk your hair surrounds me
gathering like soft golden clouds, engulfing me with pure pleasure.
Your supple lips pout wordless whisperslingering longingly against my cheek,as feline softness presses firm against my longing body.
Cool satin fingers caress warm tingles through my sensile skin
so soft, it is, it takes my breath away, leaving my burning chest empty,
as silken strands entwineso slowlyin pilous brush, pure ecstasy,
leaving me breathless, knowing for this moment, I would gladly die for you.
12/07/15
Autumn, wrap me in the fabric of uncoated leaves
just for this unequaled waning eve
as orchids rest beneath viscous cloudbursts:
I feel distanced from the elements of earth
while stars blink dimly my hands cannot reach,
then come for me be the thread binding me till
your layered air cuddles my arms in moss of dew,
if only to taste this vanishing light in your hour
and gaze longingly at the rainfall of your skies;
when all this patina of boughs' mystique aligns
with the final throb of chrome- like days:
O let morning withdraw against your faded lacquer
to allow a longer glimpse beyond your still radiant nights.
Written 7/1/2018 Patina Contest Judged 7/3/2018
For Broken Wings' A Poem Na'd In A July Contest
Submitted 7/26/2018
The last dance is over, the summer ball fades away
It's early morning as we walk along the esplanade
The love of my life in the most beautiful white gown
Hand in hand we whisper, kissing in love fuelled drown
We pause as we absorb the gentle rushing of the waves
Inner feelings of desire feed the thoughts we longingly crave
The moon above delights against a cobalt ebony sky
Whilst diamonds sparkle brightly captured in her eyes
Our home we finally reach knowing the dawn will soon be nigh
On entering our bedroom a most beautiful sight espies
Behind her back she holds the most delightful of red rose
Her back now bare to open showing porcelain skin exposed
She turns to me and looks, theirs an alluring in her eyes
Slowly I walk towards her on her shoulders my hands apply
To her nape I kiss, whispering sweet nothings in her ear
Another dance has started as our longing draws ever near
With gentle steps we take, to a spread of silken sheets
Her summer ball in fall, peachy skin my eyes now meet
Lacy lingerie of white attracts the man in me
Alone my love and I, two naked torso's touching free
Adventurous we become, caressing undulations each
Sighs interrupting kisses for the sweet spots that we seek
In my hand I take the Rose brushing the petals against her pert
Touching, we start to ignite, two in love now so alert
In sync our bodies bind amidst sheets on silken lie
Mirroring waves on the ocean our gyrations in loving reply
Inner warmth excites, our joyous release so beautifully free
We melt into each other, two souls asleep, appeased
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-16.php
Striding into the snowy fortress my tepid heart at double time
paces
Entering a pine colonnade sprouting a wintry mane, saddled with
velvety laces
Cloaked with icy needles forming a brittle, hooded trellis
Golden beams seap through the shielded parapet gilding the frosty
mantle with an iridescence
The distant peaks shrouded with the glow of satin evanescence
Following an unmarked, winding trail spurred on by an eery
prescience
My unbridled senses discharged; my tempered spirit for the
mysterious journey braces
A haunting stillness shadows my movements; stealthily my
boundary encases
Shuttered from the outside world and its vapid spaces
Where time is muted and nature's discordant rhythm races
A pristine environment where tendrils caress, limbs bristle, the cold
wind chases
A cloudy fondue swirls overhead and each spiralling steeple
embraces
Squawking squirrels prance freely on the floor without leaving any
traces
Bald eagles glide above the crenelated spires crowning the summit
with their magestic graces
A maverick-cardinal's chirps funnel through the shrouded mist,
temporarily the dreary damper effaces
A Snowy owl crests over the hollowed thickets scanning the tight
nooks and crawl spaces
White-tailed deer cautiously trek through covered thickets, matted
fields which their camouflage erases
Filtering through the blustery labyrinth, an open field the rough
terrain displaces
The broad meadow teaming with yesterday's cares my
adventurous journey replaces
Looking longingly back on my charted path, my bridled heart the
solitary life praises
The wind doesn’t have a plan
It doesn’t know where it came from
Or where it’s going
It just is, it carries itself
Like the memory of one in an aged home
Longingly she misremembers and in it frays
Where do we go now or do we?
Some repeat the same ragged line, over and then over
Your memory lingered as a hot blistering day
And the breeze of forgiveness carried
One of us had to let go so the wound could too
The reconciliation of the Holy Spirit healed the wound
And the Wind moved on in forgiveness
Most time your mind seems lost and words are spared
But the eye that sees me, burning my heart it has a voice
It tells me I love you with all your terrible faults ,deeds
Im your memory, wind and Mother and I will always hear your voice
Summer
Watery sensations!
A feel of having fallen into a light full of summer!
Sprung out of late night October dark.
The lightness of the wind.
The mystery of an ancient perfume.
I realize how I had been missing it.
Tapping into the underworld.
Of a wandering heart.
I welcome the cold freeze on my skin, it keeps me safe!
Yet I lust longingly for Warmth of the Sun!
For relief from the drear of my long lonely nights.
The warm breeze reminds me of love.
The Jasmine and Lupine gently increase my desire.
I've suppressed my longing for this sacred scent.
All below me, 100 generations touch my heart.
And teach stillness and contentment in the now.
We walk across meadow and moor
Along tracks where horse and carriage once rode
Treading paths where the poets of yore
In search of inspiration once strode.
Lilac and sage scented hedgerow
Old stone wall needs repair
The Bronte's oft walked this furrow
That now with my best friend I share
Side by side in the sunshine we stroll
Even in silence we still keep up our stride
Stopping by the riverside for a drink and a roll
No prejudice in what we say, we still maintain our pride
Enjoying each other’s company for hour upon hour
Coyly smiling you gently take my arm
Stooping down you pick me a delicate flower
Secure in your company; I can’t come to any harm
Arm in arm we retrace the steps of Agnes Grey
We are enveloped in the spirit of Jane Eyre
Heathcliff and Catherine come out to play
We sense both their joy and despair.
In the plush settings of the hotel we dine
Becoming the tenants of Wildfell Hall
Great company, good food and a glass of wine
We are guests at the Bronte Ball.
We become Jane and Mr Rochester that night
Dancing together in demure and graceful style
You look so handsome in the flickering candlelight
Your arm round my waist, it lingers a while
Climbing the stairs to our adjoining rooms
You look at me longingly; there is no haste
Do we become lovers, or is it too soon
Like a Bronte heroine I remain chaste
Eileen Ghali has been kind enough to create a BLOG about our collaboration poem, please drop by and read it.You can access it via the HOME page
Collaboration Poem By Darren Watson & Jan Allison
9th April 2014
Somewhere lies your kiss
between the sheets, or hidden amoung the forget-me-nots, or trilliom, or a mossy fallen tree.
Somewhere lies your kiss
hidden as cerulean blue within the ballet slipper pinks of passion folded, and folded, and folded on folded passion folds.
A hint of moisture,
a suggestion of tender,
an inkling of desire… like lilac or heather or jasmine… there and yet not
Leaves me longing… in constant dire…
never completed, always wanting… simply needing… and never completing
the attempted acquire.
Somewhere lies your kiss …
longingly… never long enough…
resting with frothing waves on my lips…
never having…
my one desire…
But I am yours…
And you are mine…
And together we remain, ours.
~ Martin Braun
July 9, 2021
Sonnet VII – Invoking The Muses
I call the daughters of Mnemosyne:
Sweet Erato, your kithara solo -
Dearest Euterpe, your aulos blow -
So my words won’t die in ignominy.
Inspire me with words of wit and charms,
That playfully dance like leaves on the streams.
Send them from above, like silver moonbeams,
To embrace my love with gossamer arms.
Like Icarus, I want to reach so high,
But I’m a simple man with simple rhymes
Who wants to enchant, inspire and amuse –
Hoping my loved one will longingly sigh,
And offer her heart to me for all time –
Which is why I’m invoking the Muses!
In vertigo of night, in their riddled trance
Boldness of petals melt on washed-out shades,
As faces etch a quiet gloom in varied hues
Capturing splashed oil, neutral and bright
While I gaze longingly at a portrait…
Man and wife , as if holding a child almost
Unseen …hidden through a float of blue-white.
Through dimming pain, a view lights up for a time
Where orange of moonlight quietly slips
Amid this rosette outburst and aching gray,
With blossoms strewn along pale candlelight…
How languid colors begin to mold my thoughts
Drowning in a pang of loneliness… I ask
In silence..are the couple ,the babe dying?...dead?
And the fusion of tender, lonely motif allows me
To weep inside, captive in a gasping moan... the kind
Which shapes a tone between life and elegy.
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Frank Herrera's Contest: YOUR PERSONAL BEST of 2016
Written 5/09/2016 Re-submitted 10/18/2016
POTD Awardee
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Inspiration from the painting, Les Amoureux en Gris
Artist: Expressionist, Marc Chagall ( illustration included)