Long Minuet Poems
Long Minuet Poems. Below are the most popular long Minuet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Minuet poems by poem length and keyword.
Dear Guardian Angel
O dear guardian angel,
Why do you pick these wee night hours
For your dances of invisible radiance?
Aren’t you to be leaning over
In cradling protection while I sleep?
Instead, your cape of praises gleans
From my soul an aura so rich
That I think I, too, must rise
To join into an embroidered minuet.
Why not join instead
In some hours of respite?
Aren’t you worn from my day of birth
To seven decades of caring for me?
From nursing me through long hours
Of anguished inquiries? And doesn’t
It try you to watch my feet
Stutter across floors with you, thus,
Saving me from too numerous falls?
My walking must sound to your ears
Like the pianist’s tinkling the keys
Along from mid to high C.
I read, years ago, that the great
Artist Titian admitted he hadn’t really
Seen the way to his true
Creating process until he was 90.
I wonder now, O dear angel, how long
You will continue to dance past my bed,
Aligning with inspiration,
Since this aging poet has only recently
Discovered a trove of interior scrolls
Needing to be shared?
Why not surround us both in the veil
Of your unfolded wings, putting
3 A.M. voices to rest in the darkness
Of closed eyelids? Let us dance
Our praises to God in Eden’s lullaby.
******************************************.
(C) sally young eslinger 2020
All thanks be to Gd
~Every Day~
(The Minuet)
You can always spread His love to
To all around
Around bring joy
Joy and love show
Love heals the aching heart that hurts
Hurts, make love strong
Strong God will make
Make you each day
Just love God seek His kingdom first
First every day
Day with prayers
Prayers and love
Treat everyone 'round with kindness
Kindness spread with smiles
Smiles hope peace love
Love every day.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
December.08.2016
So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV)
-“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16 (NIV)
- Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer
Romans 12: 12 ( NIV )
-The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”
Exodus 14: 13 ( NIV )
~Author's notes:
The "Minuet" is a poetry form or style created by Dorian Petersen
Potter, aka ladydp2000, on March 3, 2012.
"Inside the Hurricane"
Inside the Hurricane
starts small
a minuet waltzing
cadence like clandestine lovers
whispered reverently
soft becomes hard
and slow for a fall
under dark cloudy covers
boiling over
to tangled tango
in the burning brain
there the homeless Heart
meets it’s counterpart
in it’s enticing suede
labyrinthine cave
safe against a wall
balanced and entranced
held fast
Underground begs
not her Ocean
Tsunami waves
inside his broken
Breaks the Hurricane
Love floods
through waving wet
Sea Grass
Silver Green
cuts sharp her alter
chalice kissed
Vows read and
spoken red
Inside the Hurricane
windows crystal clear, seamless
Legs of a journey
open
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
“Bachelorette” Bjork, Homogenic
https://youtu.be/Th7QmZiz6Lc
“I'm a tree that grows hearts
One for each that you take
You're the intruder hand
I'm the branch that you break”
"Come to Me" Bjork
https://youtu.be/kIm1GyyDZmY
"Game we're playing is Life
Love's a two way dream"...
2. Aria
Twain kindred souls start slow and reunite,
Same as lovers who split and then made up,
Though, twas a mere slow dance, a Pavane,
Taming a dance floor with their passive feet,
As Faure's piece fades, delayed music mix,
Next, a minuet by Beethoven in G Major, No 2,
Couples one hand clasped together both leads,
Men's other handheld scepters extend outward,
While the ladies other handholds to their dresses,
As the tipsy tune plays like a Lawrence Welk Show.
Now a livelier pace quickens hearts and dancers alike,
For it is a waltz by Johann Strauss' Acceleration Waltz,
Stimulates even barstool occupant whose head swoon,
An ever do-nothing lethargic will enable them to move,
One-step two-step then turn and bow to your partners.
Lovers exchange worshipping lips more than small kisses,
As the orchestra prepares for their tune, rather off-tuned,
Nonetheless, a number by Puccini's Nessum Dorma sung,
Magically, breaths held, as his name was just announced,
The virtuoso, Luciano Pavarotti will sing that famous aria.
2020 January 11
I’m in Berlin. It’s nineteen eighty-four,
The Army on the Rhine, and I’m a nurse.
I’ve got an ego like an exocet,
(it’s safe enough, if regularly flattered),
and I have had enough of NAAFI-lore.
Four Powers – us, Froggie, Yank and Soviet –
have brought down on ourselves an endless curse:
we dance a careful monthly minuet
whose point is to uphold a badly-battered
self-image. Think of Tet – Lest We Forget!
A Captain of the Royal Medical Corps
(as sexy as a Wootton Bassett hearse)
Says, “Kathy, we’ve a mission for you, pet,”
(I got the feeling I was being Sepp Blattered).
She says, “We’ve carved you out a special chore.”
“We’ve got one inmate who’s a tad upset,
And you, we think, can put him in reverse ...”
The drill went on outside. Each pirouette
was polished like a boot. As if it mattered!
“Democracy will long be in your debt.”
As Häftling Hess held back the spring-hinged door,
his manner was teutonically terse.
I was the only woman that he’d met
in forty years. His chessmen were all scattered.
A single sock lay supine on the floor.
“So masculine, this space, I must regret,”
(all Germans, speaking English, think it’s verse),
“If I would say ‘bekom’, may I use ‘get’?”
He kept his overcoat on as we nattered.
I wore my civvies – Pringle puce twin-set.
He told me that my chess was very poor
(if anything, the practice made me worse:
but I won the NAAFI Cup that year, no sweat!)
His sense of self was ruinously shattered –
meticulous, but crap at keeping score!
I owe that man some sort of spiritual debt
(the kind of due you never reimburse),
that coelacanth in Spandau’s gloomy net,
his only greatcoat permanently spattered
with garden filth (and permanently wet!)
Whenever I think back on what he wore,
in my imagination I rehearse
short back and sides, the top still black as jet,
that turtle head, so wizened and so battered,
and I am not now what I was before.
~Prayers~
(The Minuet)
Pray for all the lost of this world
World needs prayers
Prayers love God
God can save all
The lost and confused today
Today in life
Life He can change
Change also heart
You need to come to Him, repent
Repent right there
There, then just pray
Pray for the lost
The lost and all in this whole world
World needs prayers
Prayers and love
Love faith hope peace
Peace and much more of your kindness
Kindness, caring
Caring for all
All the whole world.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2012
April.01.2016
~Author's Notes:
'The Minuet' is a poetry style created by Dorian Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on March.3.2012
I cried my little eyes out for three years
Whilst he’s in Port Moresby drinking beers
wipe away my tears from all the wasted years
cried my little eyes out for three years..
I cried my little eyes out for my love
Whilst all the spirits watched me from above
Hate the smell of beer brings a little tear
I cried my little eyes out for my love
He kisses all his paintings that he paints
Wonder if he kisses all the saints
Perhaps he kisses feet on paintings incomplete
cry my little eyes out bittersweet
I cry my little eyes out now you know
I’m a tortured being as I woe
I do not know the meaning of no no
So I cry my little eyes out and they flow
I cried my little eyes out for three years
Changes of emotions up in gears
To always come back down and still he’s not around
To see me cry my eyes out over years
I’ll be crying tomorrow for that man
My little eyes can’t help to cry again
Next month, next year, for life until I am his wife
Crying little eyes out for that man.
My eyes will never cease to cry no more
This I know for certainty, for sure
For ever since we met danced a minuet
Where happiness was sadness to cry for.
I cried my little eyes out for three years
Whilst he’s in Port Moresby drinking beers
wipe away my tears from all the wasted years
I cried my little eyes out for three years..
So now you know why I can’t do a date
For friends and beers and paintings stole my mate
Hence I’ll never will become a crying eyed for some
Though cry my little eyes to succumb
My honeymoon, my love, my only dear
I cry because you always disappear
Year after year…beer after beer
cry my little eyes out- you’re not here.
Image of Moon Clouds Air provided by Pixabay.
*Selenophila
Ballet of calm swans glissades, silhouette
placed culled singles tryst, pond sides by vast knoll,
balters few burbled matches. Grasped sunset
whilst espy eyes pry, as through a peephole,
faint lights pair, a porcelain minuet.
Lain on their fleeces, woolgathering whirled --
supine visages, prompt smeared tattooed rouge
-- upgrades furtive vagary functions, twirled
tendrils e'er sensing blond frames ... whelve amour
amongst enthused pristine hearts, fused refuge
sonder renaissance ere night's prism, savior
per drawn orphic sight, a ringed rainbow moon,
selenophiles resplendent moored grandeur
flame, epoch pairs euphoric dulcet swoon.
*Selenophila: Loving the moon and finding it soothingly captivating.
2021 May 19
*4th Place*
Summer love sonnet
~~John Hamilton: Judged 2021 May 24
At horizon’s crest a faint light arcs
its thin line widens from across the sea
she flutters maiden wings from her nest
on a rocky crag near a twisted tree.
Warm light dances with shadows at dawn
amidst white quartz lines and sandstone cliffs
a young gull flies with confident wings
his sinews are strong as he glides through the rifts.
Sea salt air mingles with pungent scents
as pounding tides pulsate along the shore
his guttural cries echo all around
she hears his sibilant sounds and wants more.
Drawing her wings, she ups and takes flight
lifting her head, croons a soft, soothing song
swiftly he swoops to her side to dance
flying in tandem, they greet the new dawn.
Written 8/28/2020
quickly racing flowing smooth
plane of glass unchanging be
reflects above bowl of blue
castles flying may be seen
bits of crystal in matrix tight
foraged in fire before time
buried deep beyond light
and forever it will be
born of fire burning hot
flying high wild and free
heat released into the night
forever lost flown away
endless tearing pulling free
denied not in relentless time
stone reduced and destroyed
bits of sand flow away
‘tis unchanged beyond sight
something that forever has
defined in frozen stone
unchanging like the earth and sky
rushing torrent falling free
flying high upon the breeze
flashing like crystal jewels
rainbows scattered in the light
pool deep of icy cold
turbulent currents flow about
massive stones buried within
now unchanging once again
endless time not frozen be
yet too slow for eye to see
crystals flash in flowing stream
pieces that time carries away
forever stood within the stream
parting breaking relentless be
bone of earth within the sky
as unchanging as flow of time
one too many does break free
crystal flashing torn away
tremble does so tiny be
minuet tremble growing be
tipping sliding breaking free
with the flow carried be
flight too brief it will be
till the moment it will end
quickly racing flowing smooth
plane of glass unchanging be
reflects above bowl of blue
castles flying may be seen