Long Meadowland Poems
Long Meadowland Poems. Below are the most popular long Meadowland by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Meadowland poems by poem length and keyword.
Don't Give Up
When friends forsake and promised love dies you still have purpose.
Who could leave the Summer and her moon drenched country stream,
Where pilgrims bathe when tired in body and soul?
Who could leave the splendor of the Sun's glorious might,
That penetrates the darkness and enchants the earth with light?
Who could leave the Winter and her sweet snow white grace
That shelters every shrub and tree with clusters of glistening lace
And is the motivator of Blue Ridge and Rocky Mountain sport,
Persuading both friend and lover to coze 'round fires of blazing warmth?
Who could leave the Autumn and her discarded crispy leaves,
That afford the ear such pleasure 'til recalled by melancholy trees?
Who could deny eyes her intoxicating colors or nose her rare perfume?
Autumn banishes from the soul every bit of gloom.
Who could leave the Springtime that births a tingling in the toes?
And with her healing fragrances and gift of Gypsy Rose,
Woos you deep into green forests and magic meadowland,
Where flowers sway taking one's breath away,
And inspire's the poets hand.
By Joan May (Donnelly) Ellis
Tears drenched her pillow,
When everyone sleeps in her villa.
Formulae whirl in her mind,
theorems threaten her like the wild wind.
She turns the book pages faster,
thinking of her strict maths master.
"It's all my mistake,I've wasted my days
If I get an additional day, I will go through,"She pray
She realized her mistake,but she can't ignore.
On the Monday Morning,she hears a knock at the door,
Her mom smiling with a coffee mug in her hands
"Dear,Have you seen the nearby meadowland?
"The raindrops embellished the grasses
and painted our window glasses,"
She cried" nothing enthralls me
and I cannot smile with glee"
Suddenly the clouds burst and it begins to rain heavily
News channel reads"Due to heavy rain,the schools declared holiday"
Her eyes filled with tears again but happy tears
and now the rain enthralled her...
Feb-21-2018
For silent one's contest....
I invite you to go wild,
laugh till your sides nearly burst.
And act as you did a child,
letting raindrops quench your thirst.
Start a fire with scraps of wood,
or sculpt castles made of sand.
And pick berries that taste good,
or stroll through a meadowland.
Go splash in the creek barefoot
or chase frogs that swim away.
And track monsters like Bigfoot,
while you enjoy this play day.
Giggle at the dog's kisses,
or run, like, you'll never stop.
Poke a snake till it hisses,
or climb a tree to its top.
Gaze at the clouds sailing by,
as they slowly drift away.
And treat yourself to a pie,
while having a fun-filled day.
Awash in golden sunshine is jade meadow,
Beneath snow capped mountains all aglow.
Carefree breezes wander through the blooms,
Discreetly scattering the sundry perfumes.
Enamored of sapphire skies, cottony clouds,
Fabulous noonday, far from thunderclouds!
Green grass so deep, in late springtime,
Harmonies of birds, all over the daytime!
Idyllic lake, with a duck swimming there,
Jolly in his crystal world, of sky unaware.
King-sized grasshoppers bound the green,
Lavishly jade, in native grass they gleam.
Mellow, melodious and memorable morning,
Naturally lovely when the sun is dreaming!
Once or twice, brown bunnies come in view,
Perky on the picturesque, emerald avenue.
Quivering butterflies, endlessly wandering,
Restless, as is common to those on the wing.
Spicy blooms, of various kinds and colors,
Teeming in the meadow, make exotic covers!
Untouched by time, the majestic mountains,
Vast, and with beauty enjoyed by thousands.
Whimsical ladybugs, chance to roam around.
Xenial is the meadowland, without any sound.
Yellow-tinged is everything that's in sight.
Zealous sunshine shares with all his might!
Splatter painted, Pollock blessed, leggy I stand,
among the green grass and healing Plantain
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
A walking canvas in the meadowland
stems, humorously stippled to entertain
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand.
Blush brushed by daylight, a cheeky garland;
a stand bloomed within thin skinned constraints
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
Pistils between petals unknown unplanned,
joyous the sound of honey bees restrained,
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand.
A plantigrade intrusion, a new brand
surface mounted digits adorned prearranged
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
So bright the upright parts, so very grand
one can but dream the crown gloriously manned
splatter painted, Pollock blessed; leggy I stand
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.
Mused: Bella online Literary Review Winter 2015
While walking through a meadowland,
wild flowers kiss the tips of my hand.
There's pollen where the bees descend,
dreams sail upon a gentle wind.
Into the sky I smile so bright,
I could stay here past evening light;
take refuge in trees round this place,
where sun rays color each leaf's face.
In shades of green my true love's come,
his eyes leave my passion undone.
Tho, nothing here's what it might seem,
passion soars high in shades of green.
In deep dreams he takes me there,
our passion shared without a care.
I, as tall grasses kissed by the wind,
sway when he sways, bend when he bends.
My Backyard Playground....Mt. Lassen Peak
Our playground is a mountain steep
Come climb with me to Lassen's Peak!
It guards our valley, rust and green
Like roughing it? A camper's dream!
Or take a picnic for the day
Such beauty takes your breath away
With lakes and streams and meadowland
Boiling mudpots, volcanic thrills
And sulpher springs to take a bath
With fish and game and hiking trails
In summer take your fishing poles
Or ski the slopes when winter calls
One hundred years, since last it blew
Prepare to run....'cause it ain't through!!!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Inspired by Brian's contest "SONNET ME"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lassen_Peak
Timeless motion from sea and land
curious men who came before
who crossed the lands to find the shore
They left footprints they traced in sand
that washed away with pulling tide
with their motion of forward stride
From caves with walls of ochre hand
their red imprint became stained stone
from ancient worlds of skins and bone
To great forests and meadowland
across vast seas where they explore
they found new worlds not seen before
To plant a flag where they command
and make a plan to travel space
one day they'll need to leave this place
Timeless motion from sea and land
To leave footprints they traced in sand
From caves with walls of ochre hand
To great forests and meadowland
To plant a flag where they command
11/16/17
Shakespeare,Turning over in His Grave
Spaghetti can, sardine can. soup can?
Why, hell~~
Any man can!
Do what?
Think poetry is just words!
Like eggs, "any style"
Tossed in a frying pan.
William would totally, fail today!
So, brutal and painful to say.
His beautiful words too long to read.
We live our lives whose watchword
and god is speed.
Speed of our devices, our cars.
Speed of being served in bars.
Time to slow down, me thinks,
And write some sonnets and odes,
with glorious, gleaming ink.
On parchment..written in our glorious
blessed hand.
Poetry that comes ever so softly and
sweetly,
From our mind-hearts' own infinite
meadowland.
Panagiota Romios
3/23/2019