Long Mellow Poems
Long Mellow Poems. Below are the most popular long Mellow by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mellow poems by poem length and keyword.
Set your mind clear with heart that knows,
Aim to live best that way of grace;
Choice sparkles cheer with a fond glow,
Reach with fond zest beauty you trace;
Embrace wise tact that flavours good,
Dance deep delight with lovely craze.
Voice your pure act with humble mood,
Ignite insight with charming daze;
Rouse in good time true purpose bold,
Trust paves the way through light and dark;
Urge precious chimes as truth unfolds,
Etch well each day with wonder's spark;
Sense in the now the path you take.
Near or far be what your soul needs;
Opt to know how love breaks to make;
Work thus sets free a wholesome feed.
Live each new step along the way,
Instant the touch of grace that cures;
Glimpse follows map through life's highway,
Happy as such the heart made pure;
Thrill in the peace of mellow feel.
Taste of good cheer through ups and downs,
Reap gentle ease as love distills;
Use joy to steer both smiles and frowns,
Tints of pure light caress your soul,
Health comes your way with fond employ.
Wealth beyond sight now makes you whole,
Inch thus each day with windy joy;
Speak with words kind to bear life's load,
Dream of good times that anchor zest;
Opt peace of mind on winding road,
Mull precious rhymes on trip and quest.
Light and love shine though thick and thin,
Old plots make new as seasons change;
Vet works most fine to breeze times seen,
Etch a bold you to mellow strange.
Leon Enriquez
29 March 2018
Singapore
There within the shell of splendor floats
Waves carry armored ancients on their backs
Isolated oceans dream of waters tropical
Much warmer are the wanderings of warriors
Gurgles without sound go softly down
Bubbles of the surf will speak out loud
But no words come out
In summer deep within the shallows
Eggs sleep mellow in their oval shapes
Sand is there to build a heaven, to build a beach
Creatures so happy to be tossed like salad
Go back to the solace from where they came
Somber on the swollen waves
As the rolling magic takes them away
Sometimes life has its hurdles
But there is one word and that is turtle
Vivid hues of gold and amber
Magical whispers aflutter with grace
Meant to bring praise to our creator
Who sent these splendors for our joy
Inspiring faith, hope and so much more
Wings pulsating with passion and promise
Sighs of exhilarating enlightenment
Meant to sway the spirit toward second chances
Whimsical delights which capture the heart
Sending creativeness to the depths of the soul
Dreams breathe vehement words of desire
Echoing intensity within their strong fires
Delighting in the enigmatic murmurs of insight
Leaving a trail of fervent satisfaction and blessing
Sent on the rushing arms of a gentle butterfly
butter flies and marshes mellow Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
June 29, 2020
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The persistent Texas heat and sunshine have given way to several cooler, partly cloudy days. I step outside, making my way to the nearby walking trails. I gaze up, the clouds lifting my spirits heavenward; I embrace this cloudy day, for it brings subtle whites and cool silvers that accent the sky above. The passing white blossoms of the sky bring a transitory shade. Upon the sidewalk I see a lone butterfly beneath a tree canopy, passing from subdued sun to mellow hues.
partly cloudy days, soft-filtered light
soul song becomes louder, more confident
in those sweet moments
self-reflection
Family ties groom fond feelings:
So by and by love says strange things.
Hearts in-sync know a certain touch:
Feeling a flow of love as such.
Here heart to heart souls grow as kin:
Family starts from ties unseen.
A human touch frames ties that bind:
A lavish nudge frames kin and kind.
Blood ties can bring feelings that link:
Watch kinship string beyond mere think.
Here space and time seem to mellow:
No logic rhymes fate we swallow.
In good and bad our bonds face fate:
In joy and sad love's never late.
When kin meets kind change and fate glow:
A strange odd sign that kinship shows.
Leon Enriquez
16 May 2018
Singapore
I remember when I was a young boy…if I was scared
or if I was asleep and woke up with a fright…
my mom would snuggle in bed next to me and tell me stories of the night.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She’d say in her soft and soothing tone.
“For the night is full of wonders…full of miracles all her own.”
“You can see it in the stars and in the flash of the fireflies…
unmistakable proof that the night has a twinkle in her eyes.”
“There is nothing quite as beautiful as the world lit only by the moon.
It’s the only time you get to visit with the owl and the raccoon.”
“It’s the time you hear the nightingale sing her sweet and mellow song.
And as the only bird who sings at night she’s happy when you sing along.”
“While you’re harmonizing with the nightingale…if you’re lucky…you must might….
catch a glimpse of the evening primrose…which only blooms at night.”
I’m sure Mom kept telling more stories…
her voice was always comforting and deep…
but by the time she got to the primrose…I was usually fast asleep.
Mom’s stories helped me as a young boy…conquer my nighttime fears
and, today, I reveal a secret…I’ve kept for all these years:
Even after I was no longer scared of the dark…
(yes, I know it wasn’t right)
I’d pretend to be afraid
just so I could hear
Mom’s stories of the night.
September’s Apples
By Frank Daub
September apples rest in the cellar,
barely in the light,
mellow,
turning cider
beneath their shining skins like cinnamon wine.
I bite one –
juice bubbles out
to the edges of my mouth.
There is sweetness first.
Then at once the tart September taste and
the white circle roughly broken from
the red round.
How long, I wonder, before the white darkens.
The white goes nut colored
before
I can finish peeling the red entirety --
Or
after I’ve taken the first bite.
What is it that makes us put apples in the cellar?
To keep them Autumn-like, extending the
crispness of a season bringing harvest?
This, or it does something to their flavor that the sun can’t finish.
I try to remember how the apples tasted when the old man and I pulled them
from the tree.
They were cold.
A little less mellow.
They are sweeter now.
Being buried was good for them. Buried in the deep cool of this cellar,
away from the sun.
Promise me nothing –
I’m not interested in your vows
Between the farmer and the field
Is just another broken plow
No backtalk allowed –
All discourse now falls short
A culture of mellow drama
And every day is the last resort
I’m a really nice guy and a real good sport
But it’s only to three people that I report
Nobody’s acolyte –
I’m not your man
You can say whatever you want,
But don’t count on me to understand
Nobody’s acolyte –
No never uh-uh
Doctrine and dogma –
Manifestos and miniature threats
It’s nothing to me – the bug mentality
Remembers that everybody forgets
Erasing all debts –
Don’t worry the war will be there
You could set your sundial by the eclipse
The God of the Scroll at which you stare
I’d gladly follow you anywhere
If my senses were impaired
Nobody’s acolyte –
I’m not your man
You can say whatever you want,
But don’t count on me to understand
Nobody’s acolyte –
No never uh-uh
I’m nobody’s acolyte
You’re all spleen and no ideal
I’m not just gonna sit around and watch
While your hidden agendas are revealed
I ain’t nobody’s dog
So don’t expect me to heel
I can see it in your eyes you don’t get it
But try to hold sway you will live to regret it
Whoever has a clear conscience never throws a stone
and can sleep well waking up in a mellow state gladly,
then make a revision of conscience with no intention to clone;
I have felt guilty for not loving others enough with honesty,
not taking their needs to heart: it's wrong to hide sensibility.
Being sorry can't replace that trust I can't atone speedily,
they doubt my looks and their thoughts don't show sympathy;
I stand alone: anything I say and do can't make any amends:
has mercy gone from them completely, who has a bit of pity?
How long can a foolish man continue to lie with deceitful words?
Date: 8/16/2020, title: State Of Grace, sponsor: Edward Iben
Northern Hemisphere bound, up past the equator
Sun rising, blue skies and temperatures getting greater
Away from the stalemate of winter tide
Springing and scampering forth untied
Fresh exuberance in the air
Beautiful bodies moving everywhere
Blues and Reds just a flappin' and a chirpin'
Children laughing, playing, and slirpin'
Verdures greening with life
Man relinquishing all artificial strife
Beautiful butterflies, black and yellow
Sipping on lemonade and feeling quite mellow
Ahhhhhhh!
Chipmunks and squirrels sprightly moving in search of food
Energy, so much energy got me in a salubrious mood