Long Love metaphor Poems
Long Love metaphor Poems. Below are the most popular long Love metaphor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Love metaphor poems by poem length and keyword.
You awaken with Spring flowers
Bright and alive with joy
Filling the moments with sun
Kissed foliage and green grass
You dance your way into Summer
With delightful expressions all over
Filling the days with ocean spray
That sooths the spirit and heart
You are finally approached by Autumn
When the leaves crunch hastily
Beneath booted feet who leave
Traces of half forgotten dreams
You must enter the Winter season
With older and wiser pairs of eyes
Reflecting the depths of golden years
That can be shared on the front porch
November 1, 2019
Metaphor of Love Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Bobby May
Wandering in the wasteland
of the denuded life desolate,
the sinuous track took me
to the terrain of nowhere.
I was entangled in the encircling web
of enigmatic conundrum,
should I escape from decay delirium,
I couldn’t decide.
The ingrained imprint indelible
of the turning wheel of time,
twisted out of tormenting tangle
of the tortuous trail of the past,
steered with the promise of pride
my beleaguered mind out of the maze,
showed me the pathway
to the fervent fountain of the future.
I’d break the invisible barrier there,
you had built in seclusion
around your secret garden,
the blooming flowers hidden from me.
As I’d saunter there suffused with
the shine of the sunburst new dawn,
I’d wish before I walk the last mile,
our paths would cross.
________________
September 13, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
A home so fine, I exclaim to all,
Resting on branch, above this ground,
A pond of water, I see from perch,
It longs to me, to land and search.
Vastness of water, no comers in,
I move toward it, landing gently,
A tiny splash, tail feathers wet,
If only another would not see a threat.
Next day to land at tree and pond,
Everyday to wash and splash.
With all my hope, I can only wait,
For my wish to come and change my fate.
As one day passes and another one begins,
The fate to change my passage waits,
Still longing at this pond, I linger,
To hear the chirp of my lifelong singer.
I wait and wait at pond so great,
To hear that call to me.
One day it comes, a faint whisper heard,
A call of love, but still is blurred.
Like worms too deep, we may not meet,
I dig and peck and try,
But you are far, your call is faint,
To find you now, I need a saint.
I only wish that we could meet,
On ground that is more level,
For you could fly to my perch,
End the passion of my search.
A branch taught straight
Is all I wish,
For us to sit upon it,
To perch for days, enjoy our life, for just a tiny bit.
Louder I chirp, exclaiming to all,
My love to gain a partner.
Faintly again, I hear this sound,
Love calls to me, my heart abounds.
Its coming near, love sounds so clear,
Is my partner on this branch?
I bend and dance, raising my song,
To heights not heard for 'O' so long.
A tilt of head parts leaves to the side,
A beholding sight I see,
This beauty of feathers perched on my branch,
A brief look from me, I catch her glance.
A look of warmth, and longing too,
I see her reflection in the water,
Her look is same from still water pond
My heart embraces our loving bond.
Our life on this branch will not bend,
Two hearts now live as one,
Love eternally is both our fate,
Elate, elate, love chirps, elate.
Colors daubed for seasons' scenes
I sift through life for what it means
In spite of chaos, shades and flings
It comes down to the simple things
The mountain tops, the dark abyss'
Have ground my egos down to this
Of all the chance and spheres I'm of
Life's worth and essence is ... but LOVE
Indeed, I've lived big moments, too
The raptures and sweet rendezvous
Moving mountains - burning skies
Bright lilting lashes, soft lullabies
Shedding poisons like second skin
Too few dreams to wear them in
I dared the devil, danced with death
Swore for mercy's whisp'ring breath
So just when ends seemed all to be
This extra chance was proffered me
Don't take for granted or yet waste
That vigor gained from rigors faced
Don't tend concerns to end or start
It's what's between that fills a heart
True meaning - love's enduring kiss
A life's no less or more ... than THIS.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Select, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 7th Place ~ in the "Favourite Poem From May, 2019" Poetry Contest, Julia Ward, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "The Meaning of Life" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
I love you like the sea licks the shore,
I love you like a taco soaking up lime;
I love you like that song on heavy rotation,
I love you like a 4x 4 with stuck wheels;
I love you like cliche verse recycled again,
I love you like a newly invented word;
I love you like the movie you never miss,
I love you like a missing piece of the vault;
I love you like the calmest sleep,
I love you like a memorized sofa snore;
I love you like accidentally burnt popcorn,
I love you like patient multiple tries;
I love you like what you truly believe in,
a phrase, a song, your intuition;
I love your scar after feeling nothing;
I love you like a metaphor.
The melancholic, cold rain makes me sad.
In the days of loud silence,
rain always called on you.
Your way into my thoughts and tears.
*
Color of lead on the sky; everything is grey.
The blue is in your eyes only.
Come along and listen with me
to the drops dripping down the window.
Like once upon a time down to our curls,
while in love and smiling,
we kissing each other under the clouds.
*
Your head is on my heart.
I am silently touched by your skin.
The gentle warmth of voice.
Your hands on my face heal everything.
*
Heavens Weltschmerz for all sad loves.
Maybe spring will bring something new.
New love and joy.
*
Piano music is somewhere in the distance.
A full circle day is approaching.
Announcement of the golden days in Marrakech.
With flower petals on the bed
and the view of the sunny oasis day.
---#---
Tender wind,
clear weather,
sweet moments
of this immense love...
white clouds
blue sky,
reddened mouth
your wet lipstick...
sea breeze,
effluvia of loves
fancy perfumes
romance in color...
euphoric smiles,
frisson nights,
thousands of stars
applauding with glow...
Wonder and loose
sweet words,
our pure desires
poetry in verse and prose...
Tender was wind,
surely our times,
soft were the nights
enchanted sweet moments,
of this immense love...!
This grain of sand which I call me
like millions more found in the sea
may yet be nothing to the eye
but strong and wondrous yet am I
As nothing if I walk alone
now with each other we are stone
Our differences together fit
like pieces of a puzzle knit
For as a force forever bound
we could more than hold our ground
A mighty fortress we can be
when we stand in harmony
But castles yet are made of sand
and hence we now must understand
that threatened always by the sea
we must protect our unity
A party is a body covered in freckles
the shape of wine glasses, circles
marking tables without coasters –
its arms are askew like rugs kicked upon entry by crazed teens,
its eyes half closed shutters, averting the gaze of a neighbour,
its hair the curling wires of a telephone cord, poised in said neighbour’s twitchy hand.
A party begins with youthful skin,
multicoloured shades of lights flashing, vibrant,
soon becoming a wrinkled reflection,
finger food left out too long, stale and dehydrated -
its veins pump with adrenaline the odour of a sudden first kiss,
its toes made up of faded confetti, trodden into carpets from the night before;
its mouth a door, lips a frame, teeth the white froth of innocence atop beers yet to be spilt, slurred.
A party is a heart that beats in time to its guests:
first, the nervous flickers of a host,
to the leaping buzz of an arrival,
then the frantic thumping of a midnight everlasting
until it slows, calms, to the gentle hum of a lover’s caress.
Qu'ry this: a chivalrous charlatan, I,
Dareth feign to pen thy prop'r aspect?
Aye, f'r thy legitimate contours art yet
Ov'rwhelmingly stagg'ring to the gazeth,
And if beheld by the ingraft m'rtal, thus,
Wouldst rend'r those folk stunn'd to reticence.
Such provocative p'rfection f'r a prop'r prose
Pedestal doth now standeth thy outlines.
If 't only the ink of mine own quill flow'd with
The langu'rous liquidity of thy libidinous limbs.
W'rds danceth off the wit at but a glance
Of thy exquisite epid'rmal embodiment,
W'rds liketh touch, tickleth, tease, tempteth.
Coequal the wisest of w'rdsmiths wouldst strain
To holdeth nigh and effectual, the phrasing
Of the diaphanous d'rmal dialogue that
Elucidates the sultry "esses" yond thy
Shadow paints on the walls and flo'rs.
Only those bless'd as i, without pure
Sight of the eye, art accomplish'd
Enough to appropriate a competency
Of fair and f'rm'd appreciation and
Charact'rization, of the voluptuous
P'rtions that composeth thy physique.
Those such as i w're b'rn to the burden
Of the darkness, but also bless'd to the
Bearing of the tactile and touchable.
Mine own pen is the palm, the fing'rtip,
The soft application of skin-to-skin contact,
The int'rpretation of v'ry tiny electrical
Impulses from ev'rything integumentary,
And the und'rstanding of all that keen
Inf'rmation being convey'd to the brain. Alloweth
Me readeth thee anon, alloweth me putteth tactile
"Pen" to the pages of mine own soul and psyche,
Alloweth me writeth a st'ry th're upon thee, alloweth
Me knoweth with mine own fing'rs and palms
The wond'rful w'rds that describeth thee in all
Thy immaculate, sublime consummation,
Alloweth me abs'rb the text of thy curve'd f'rm,
And lighteth the darkness of mine own blind w'rld.
Transf'rm this beshrew into mine own blessing.
Alloweth me beholdeth thee as nay oth'r ev'r shall.
As a st'ry, biography, adventure, book, a tale ...
Without end.