Long Merge Poems
Long Merge Poems. Below are the most popular long Merge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Merge poems by poem length and keyword.
New family is always expected
when there is a marriage.
These days, they are more
than a 'Special' pairage.
Because one mother will not lose a son
but gain a daughter.
The other will not lose a daughter
but gain a son.
When the families join for birthdays,
holidays, or even sad events,
The Lord blesses each occasion
with the grace to see them through.
God blesses the new family, but
never more than on their wedding day.
For it is on this day that families merge
and by the Lord's love and grace
their love will surge.
"God Bless You" on this your wedding day,
and by doing" so, remind to you
to each other "I Love You",
each day to say.
All thought egoic, manifest by desire
Beginning with an identity urge
To expand, identity thus conspires
Spiralling in grooves, of narrow thought surge
Feeling separate from source, we diverge
Hypnotic illusions, attention mires
The clear light of truth, then begins to blur
All thought egoic, manifest by desire
Blissful consciousness, was our state prior
Before our deluded ego upsurge
Spark becoming flame, now raging fire
Beginning with an identity urge
Ego thought fed, it begins to infer
Floundering about, reflections admires
Silencing resonance, own thought prefers
To expand, identity thus conspires
Thinking a gift divine, we did acquire
Boon then bane; ego delusion a scourge
Bewildering illusions, thus does sire
Spiralling in grooves, of narrow thought surge
Liberation at hand, when we do merge
Choosing resonation with hearts love choir
Our childlike presence then does re-emerge
Save the love vibration, nothing inspires
All thought egoic
14-January-2021
Cotton candy pinks and marshmallow whites
flaunt iridescent sheens buffed by the sun.
And colored clouds, lined with mother-of-pearl,
hang in the sky, like a prize fairly won.
Darkness gathers in tattered strands of grey,
strewn across a sky of indigo blue.
And stars glitter as a dying sun shrinks,
to a crimson ball, with a scarlet hue.
Ebony fingers scratch at the skyline;
like inky tentacles grasping for light.
And as camouflaged trees morph into black;
silhouetted abstracts merge in the night.
Liquid amber burns atop umber waves,
while igniting frothy, foamy whitecaps.
And golden moonbeams gild gleaming waters,
as cascading breakers, crash and collapse.
Playful breezes tickle leaves on the trees,
sending laughter tumbling down to the ground.
And as Sol dies, wrapped in a scarlet shroud,
time's suspended: and tranquility's found.
All night unto dawn, a gentle sadness,
a comforting...
a dreaming rain falling,
as the world recalls its ancient roots.
I listen to soccer moms backing-out of driveways,
the last moment rumpus of heel-dragging kids.
The mail van trundles-by,
sparrows bathe in warm puddles.
Trains merge with geese
in long slipstreams of sound.
All is well, all newly
washed
the world a child again.
PERPETUAL PETALS
The
bouquet
of autumn,
lasts but a short
while-
but
real
flowers live-
that spring from our
soul
to
sprinkle
here and there
in posies of
love-
such
coloured
aromas,
garland others'
day
SPRING
Purple vetch and ribwort plantain
Jostle lush clover in English rain
Dogrose dotted on a briared sprawl
prickly as it meandrs tall
Speaking volumes of words,unheard
Spring,flowers,in which all senses merge
FLOWERS OF THE FIELD
Daisy,buttercup,yellow cowslip
together mix in fellowship
MUTED
Silent,
nature's flowers
with which all senses merge-
become a dialogue with words
unheard.
SYMBOLIC INTUTION
She
moved the
empiric
into abstract
form
from
above
and beyond
the natural
view-
a
close-up
of flowers
in magnified
bloom
Ekphrasis tribute to Georgia O'Keeffe
LOVELIER than LILAC structured prose
Along the primrose path,passion flowers
luminous beauties all of a flutter,true,
natural and gentle on the stream of time.
This drift of time fashions silence into
words,silent thoughts.flowers of perfect
speech by wayside haunts.Sights sounds
and secrets so full of sweet song.
Songs of picture poetry chasing shadows
in an eclectic amalgam ,lovelier than lilac
FLOWERY WORDS
Meadowsweet & wiilow herb
and forget-me-nots
Blue,white,green & yellow
Wild flowers in abundance
Pastel shade my garden plot
LITTLE PIECES OF HEAVEN
Flowers to us,may teach
as to them,our fingers reach,
of God's love,they preach
Flowers to us,so bright
colours to fill our sight,
reveal to us,God's delight
Flowers each day to inspire,
igniting poetic fire,
God's poiema,never tire
Flowers,that smell so sweet,
good enough for us to eat,
'til that day,God we'll meet
Changed in a moment,our bodies too
on that earth and heaven, new
inspired by Christina Rossetti poem Lillies of the field
As crashing waves collide with sand,
It’s pictured in the water's sway–
relentless, as a tide's demand
to wash the tracks of yesterday.
Yet, as it ebbs, new prints appear
in place of those erased by sea;
each step an echo, crisp and clear,
a silent, screaming memory.
Her eyes, like windows to the past,
as forceful as the ocean's surge–
to heal, then break me just as fast
when sky and sea begin to merge.
And she’ll not feel this déjà vu
or hear your echo in her voice;
but in her blood, she’ll carry you
and mirrors never have a choice.
The salty sea can sting so deep
when sprinkled on my wounded skin;
you walk beside her while you sleep
and reach me from the grave you're in.
y
l
e
the very essence of a thing e
strangulated to shed the extraneous r
released to f l o a t f
without entity making us
dull or brittle
strip away
the entirety of thought
willingly forget
whether we ever flew or had feathers
to merge as no matter
in the comforting void§
needing nothing else
~ resting perfectly unfinished ~
embrace the void
He was confused…perplexed…bewildered…having trouble finding his way
so he got down on his knees and he began to pray…
Dear God, he asked, what happens when I find a person whose life has intertwined with mine…
When I find a like this person…when I find this person to be kind?
A person I love to talk to, with whom I can share my hopes, my dreams…my fears
A person I love to listen to…whose smile can wipe away my tears?
What happens when I find someone who makes me want each moment not to end?
“THEN CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY…FOR YOU HAVE FOUND A FRIEND!”
And what if my feelings merge into love…and what if this person feels it too?
“THEN CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY…FOR LOVE HAS CHOSEN YOU?”
But what if this person is my same sex…or a different religion…or yellow, red or black?
“IT DOESN’T MATTER…DOES IT…IF THIS PERSON LOVES YOU BACK?”
“FOR WHEN YOU FIND A PERSON TO SHARE YOUR LOVE THROUGH LIFE AND ALL IT’S TESTS…
THEN EVERYDAY YOU ARE ALIVE….CONSIDER YOURSELF BLESSED.”
But how can I love this person…when it is not what I’ve been taught?
And here God smiled….
?“IF EVERYTHING YOU TOLD ME IS TRUE,
THEN I MUST ASK…
HOW CAN YOU NOT?”
My play’s last scene when comes to end, when ends
My pilgrimage, its last laborious mile,
It’s time to call the curtain in a while,
Time ‘tis to say goodbye to my dear friends…
And to show up oh for the Judgment Day,
My flesh unto atoms ready to merge,
Whilst all but subtle vestiges I purge,
My sins and saner deeds when say their say—
If I deserve a term or not in hell,
Or should suffer the test of a devil's,
And cleansed I get of my sinful evils,
Pray, spare me, howso short, from heaven's spell,
For, I'd love to return to Mother Earth
To try, strive once more for my tiny worth.
________________________
Sonnet |19.11.2008, revised March 2025| earth, journey, prayer
An Escarpment of memories
Distilled into form
Congealed to moisture
Before the storm.
I visit vagaries of such places
where measuring worlds
Or matching faces
Upon that inward surface
Of a glassy eye,
May bring one tears to cry.
I try to keep them from escaping
I cannot be their jailer,
I stand without an argument,
A broken sailor.
Leaning on rebuke,
Watching stronger currents flow.
Torrents breaking my resistance,
I let go.
Release my silent shout.
Each time I pause to ponder
Slow my spirit, travel yonder.
Amazed at how the moving
And the stillness merge to Now.
The breath of God,
Revealed somehow.
The line or edge or crack or curtain
Whatever you call it, you can be certain
It is the place where all that is: Becomes.
The fraction of the smallest passing
In between the crumbs.
Not raw potential, mud or clay;
Nor finished moment, end of day.
This moving stillness that we call creation,
A touch of which, brings joy and true elation.
Think of Air and you have found me
For I have thought on air;
Now, I surround Thee.
But for this one moment; I am not;
Nor ever did I be.
Without the Air and Thee
There would be no Me.