Long March Poems
Long March Poems. Below are the most popular long March by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long March poems by poem length and keyword.
Enchanted was I with a cloying scent...
whiffs of wild magnolia
mingled with the woodsy tang
of her lemon verbena perfuming the air
Like Samson's strength, the sun's threads of gold
were clipped by silver shears
of an ascending pearlescent moon
How sweet the bloom of love ~
We slowly walked around the lake
By the zenith of eventide
we were serenaded by a cicada symphony
in rhythmic allegro thrum...
In the distance... howling of a feral creature
crying with need of a mate
How wild the passion of love ~
She tensed at his wailing call
soothed with murmurs and kisses
Her heart beat in sync with my own...
tympani drums keeping time
like the pendulum of a metronome
How musical the lyrics of love ~
Her eyes met mine...
mirroring myriads of sparkling stars
gleaming as bright as a prismed diamond
I would pledge my troth tonight...
Here, beneath a celestial bower
How heavenly the gift of love ~
A tendril of long wavy hair
blew across her cheek
I crimped it around my finger
then released a raven curl
My lips whispered softly...
I bent to her like a willow to the shore
How eager the need of love ~
When I knelt
she trembled at my intent...
Bodies clinging, we swam fathoms deep
surrendering to each other as eternal lovers
passionately torrid... reverently tender
How plumb the depth of love ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
March 23, 2021
Eight Word Bardenesque Challenge
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Shelly thought all those heartfelt feelings of love and oneness was lost
She had not heard from her first love, Thomas, for six weeks, since winter’s frost
They were seventeen, and had fallen soulfully and fully in glorious teenage love
Airtight, so right, the ultimate one-ness, their minds had melded, fit like a glove
Her handsome man, first love, together forever, she had thought, the ultimate we
Depression had set in a month ago, when it kicked in she might be a forever single she
His parents had moved in the middle of the night, house forlorn, no wish or song.
Incredulous feelings flowed through her soul when she realized he was truly gone.
Her texts so poignant, and loving, understanding and heartfelt to his cell phone
Were not returned in any shape, or rhyme, insuring her she was indeed now all alone.
This was a particularly sad moment, as they had met on March fifteenth, the March’s Ides,
A year anniversary of their first meet, but her world was no longer hers, and she felt quite dead inside.
She had contemplated doing something horrible, to feel the pain, to cut, to bleed, to run, to hide.
His voice she heard often in her head, explaining what had happened, relieving some of her dread.
Homework and hobbies held no interest now, she was all wrapped up in love gone wrong instead.
The storm outside, was not more violent than the one within, so she decided to take a walk in the rain.
Depressed and sad, head down, she walked slowly, feeling her heart breaking anew from the strain,
She had walked two blocks when someone gently touched her arm and turned her around.
It was her man, Thomas, who had managed to defy his parents, and find his way back to town.
My dad threw my phone out that window, he told her, and there was no way to get in touch with you.
But you are the love of my life, and I think we deserve to give our love the respect it is due.
Written 10-17-2018 Contest: Tell Me A Story Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
On my walk around the green meadow
in the sun splattered mesmeric mornings,
I used to see an old lady of the neighborhood,
sitting straight like a lone statue of cold stone
on the road-side bench I always crossed.
The golden stream of surging sunbeam
cascaded down the engraved web of rills
on her septuagenarian fragile face.
She would raise her thin ivory hands
from the recess of reclined lap unmoved,
flail in frail gesture in the scented air,
murmuring ‘good morning’ perhaps,
I could hardly hear in the rustle of leaves,
but my long day waited to begin
with the shining dawn of her smile,
drenching me in the silent shower of joy.
I still walk as the senile sun rises everyday,
but its searching rays saddened like me,
don’t find the lady on the bench,
but she walks smiling with me,
down the memory lane.
Written : March 22, 2020
July 23, 2022
Contest : 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 9
Sponsored by : Mark Toney
When single pointed is our attention
Observing flow of divine magnetism
In timeless time, bliss currents gain traction
As soma flows within mind-body prism
Childlike pure heart and receptive spirit
Celebrates dance of dynamic stillness
Our heart’s burning yearning, resolve and grit
Entwines consciousness with the That oneness
When head and heart meld, inner conflict ends
Erst ego spawned fears and desires are shorn
Vaporised presence, to will of God bends
The false falls away, we become twice born
This beauteous journey without movement
Reveals soul, blissful and luminescent
27-March-2022
Sisters
cry
empty satin sheets
a mothers
bleeding heart
I…caress sisters tears
comfort fears
her baby
now unto heaven
we
choking in sadness
condemned for sins
Yet
men inflict such pain
evil drums march, not to be undone
leave them to their wars
their childish affairs
It is stale
to judge us who give birth
we, who know life
whom give life
from our loins
leave us in peace
you, who revel in wars
then profess pacifism
duplicity hidden in cloisters
your morality lives in the devils den
Swirling, whirling, twirling
Hurling, throwing, tossing
These words describe
the gale force wind
travelling overhead
Making it impossible
to sleep inside my bed
Outside there is chaos
flying pots are all around
Delicate plants are severed
from their roots deep in the ground
I wish for peace and quiet
but outside it is a riot
So I will sit it out till dawn
I’m very sleepy, start to yawn
Is it passing I am asking
No, the roaring’s everlasting
Swirling, whirling, twirling
Hurling, throwing, tossing
Written 10th November 2018
Contest: WEEK 1 MARCH 2019,
Sponsor: Brian Strand
1st place
We need to organize, demand the right to be mindless.
Deserve we compensations,
restorations for the witless who riot.
Compassion and pardon for all moronic mobs.
The right to choose death for others, free booze.
The freedom to abuse, shut down, condemn,
and censor.
We fight for the right to chant
every meaningless slogan,
pledge allegiance to double-speak & gobbledygook,
and of course,
the unalienable sanctity of the male womb,
all gender-fluid birthing, the freedom to groom.
To boldly march on, arm in arm, in tune
toward another dumb-downed.
doltish dawn.
Darkness descends,
And the destination lies far behind
God! Let the fire that burns in you eternal ,
Which is the only true fire,
Light up my eyes to perceive the right from the wrong,
The genuine from the sham.
I ask Thee, blaze my spirit with your fire
So that I get the prudence to escape the snares
Laid by wolves in lambs' clothing.
I ask Thee, the courage to dissent,
When forced to act out against my will.
The glitter of gold or the sceptre of power
Let them not dissuade me from my resolve.
I ask Thee, to grant me the fire,
So that I get the power to resist,
Justice denied, rights violated,
The weak exploited, the poor smothered,
The innocent accused and the guilty acquitted.
I await the true fire to ignite my whole being,
As the darkness of gloom envelops my spirit
Where fear like worms eat into my core.
I await the eternal fire to break into me,
To see myself bare and naked!
My cavernous interiors hide designs - malign.
How I put on appearances to suit my designs!
As I burn in the fires of worldly passions
Oh Lord, send the flames of your fire,
And with their tongues, swallow the darkness within.
March.6.2023
~ Placed Fifth
What Fire is Eternal Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Joe Maverick
The air is thick with memory -
A fog of reminiscence.
Or is it simply mist
Rolling through the window?
I feel the wind and taste the salt,
Hear the distant pulse of waves
Keeping time, skipping beats
With my haunted heart.
The wind chimes sway and croon
From their place above the sill,
Where sand dollars still form a row
Among crumbs of sand.
And there, on the bedside table -
Speckled stones arranged just so.
And if I lift them, I know
I'll find dustless circles,
Halos from the past.
My vision blurs.
Then I see her in the doorway -
The ghost of childhood,
Twirling in a cloud of skirts,
Strings of seashells draped like gems
Around her fragile neck.
I blink -
And she's gone.
But through the mist I hear
The patter of bare feet
Down the empty hallway.
By Heather Ober
Submitted to Nette's "Mixed Senses" contest
*This is an old poem I wrote on March 7, 2012
famous in God’s sight
my spirit’s earnest prayer
pleasing Him by faith…
striving for Christ’s sake
with good* works from servant’s heart
exalting His name…
yielding selfishness
conquering vain glory’s pride
lurking in deceit…
joyous to declare
trust in the Lord Who loves much
for blest redemption.
Colossians 1:10 That ye might walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God.
March 13, 2021
1st place, "ALL YOURS (May 25)" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/25/2021.