Long Moistened Poems
Long Moistened Poems. Below are the most popular long Moistened by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moistened poems by poem length and keyword.
NEARNESS TO GOD
Humble heart honoring honesty and holiness
by Grace and Glory of God
staying salient silent settling in Supreme soul,
seeking strength and solace from Super-power.
praying for pure pristine peace.
Self-sensation acquired by blessings
of Almighty cascading in opulence on me
introspecting ethereal ecstasy.
Mind in muse moistened by magnificence and majesty
of eternal sublime spirit sheltering me.
My divine bliss lies in firm belief of guidance of God
on primrose path of truth with dauntless determination.
09/15/ 20
Second Place
'Alliteration Regarding Relationship with God' Contest by Beata Agustin
*Reserata Carcerem XLVIII*
Sate jolting jungle 'n enclosed pen;
nosy nature's yawn gulped 'n' reeled rents,
bruised business time leases sucked spells -
apt alakazam writ ñ lone's breast.
Yore, Poseidon 'ter t' Ithaca,
skipped ñ Leviathan t' Rome's border
'n' anon t' th' jolting jungle fastened.
Ho! Rusty retina was moistened;
a haggard nymph ñ feeble fig sate -
sumptuous swell 'f breast, foiled fabrics trailed.
'wards felon fruit peered th' taunting ****,
'n' Poseidon, pious, rustic rage licked.
Hither thithered h' th' jolting jungle
'f which ere sewn sage's muse scribbled.
'20:07:17:13:22
Note:
a) of plagued pride.
b) Written apace with Middle English lexis:
i) Sate - sat
ii) Writ - written
iii) Lone - (of place) solitary
iv) Yore - long ago
v) Anon - Immediately
vi) Hither/thither - from here/to there
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) 'n - in
ii) 'n' - and
iii) ñ - on
iv) 'ter - after
v) t' - to
vi) th' - the
vii) 'wards - towards
viii) 'f - of
Splendid in beauty and fragrant in ruby
How I linger in your placid dreams,
drawing out your parched tongue
I shall scatter my daughters with the devine whip of the winds
They will suck out the moisture of the land
and give you blessings upon blessings
above the soil
The sorcery of my leaves will entice you to slavery
And that ominous smell?
It belongs to me.
IT SHALL indeed encourage your prosperity
Even as I am poured out,
More loosely than the spring rains
I scream from within your palms
In every corner where men have set base
However, now,
my silence is rewarded by the plundering of my kingdom
My beauty is disheveled by the uprooting of my shoots
There is ecstacy in the sights of my smell,
the moistened blood of the South African velds
I cannot be denied nor my power refused,
Even if it against my own will I am plundered.
Who are earth queens?
Do they not succumb to the very sweat of me.
Do they not draw up peace treaties with my name
Or guide alliances from the sip of thine
I am the jewel of the South African grasslands.
The fragrance of diversity,
beyond the African dust.
Oh! How I have bedded the velds and adorned them!
Silken whispers greet the blithe morning
damp mist spring tap on red oak door
joyful treat preempted faint dawning
Felicity a phase one can’t ignore
bright daffodil white and pink bloom
fragrant garden bouquet stuff of lore
Alyssum’s plump trailing mound may loom
where greyedging border might seem bare
ideal cluster wraparound March plume
Ever present awe inflames my stare
rampant green aroma gust blown sent
nearby rabbit chuckled in its lair
Ample rose bush color splash in lent
showcase of enduring floral sign
tints and tones that ruffle by assent
Snowdrop bells perennial align
sprout from moistened brown earth
on pebbled wall a green creeping vine
Embrace this heady seasonal birth
marvel at its blue spruce tapestry
exhale your élan vital of mirth
She felt his hands so gently lift her hair
Her fingers trembled on the moistened quill
She knew his lips would graze her shoulder bare
Her writing she kept up to mask her thrill
He pressed into her back his angel face
as thighs of steel closed in on rounded hips
Her line of thought she could no longer trace,
for she was lost in wonder of his lips
Her sonnet all forgot, her quill fell down
She felt his hands undo the single bow
that loosely held together evening gown
She smiled at wanton ways she’d come to know
With patience born of love he did undress
She leaned back on his chest till she was freed
His hands sought out her breasts with sweet caress
and in their palmed embrace she sensed his need
She stood up to her feet, and she turned round
to face her lover seated on his chair
She drew his face to taste what hands had found,
for well she knew the pleasure he found there
She watched his mouth and tongue dominion claim
A moan from deep within escaped her lips
She felt herself go weak, and he untame
for grip of hands just tightened on her hips
And soon she found herself on bed of love
Enraptured was her body and her mind
With trembling hand she touched his face above
as he plunged to her depths release to find
As morning light tinged sky in pink array,
she slipped out of his arms and sat to write
The honeyed words dripped down without delay
and soaked the page in rhyme of love’s delight
Eileen Manassian
They flee their native country
With teary moistened eyes
They take a few belongings
And hope that never dies.
Away from persecution
Oppression, hate and war
They cross the sandy desert
And make it to the shore.
They ride the waves to freedom
But land is far away;
They have to keep on going
There is no other way.
The wind is getting stronger
The clouds are dark and dense.
There’s cause for apprehension
And feelings that are tense.
The boat is old and weary
(The sea irate and rough);
Abused, disorientated
It finds the going tough.
The storm will show no mercy,
The panic turns to cries,
(The waves are overwhelming)
There’s terror in their eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The calm after the tempest
The sun is shining bright
The boat is drifting slowly
But not a soul in sight.....
---------------------------------------------------------------
Contest: A poem you have not entered in a contest # 14
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A.
Placed: 3rd
Pearly gust strewn across the aisles
An outpour glistening the view,
its trickling dash jiggles on boughs
As pitter-patters kiss my wet cheeks!
And cloudburst spills more potpourri,
that on one early April shower
I pirouette with moistened earth's new
garlands--
toes naked tapping a bubbly Congo dance
A merry and primal ritual that refreshes
this weary soul:
An unrehearsed movement ensues, a dribble
of showers tosses my hair as I gayly scream
a belly laughter!
O could I care less? In the thrill of
petrichor, my essence flies in wonderment
channeling this four year -old kid
awakening within!
Charcoal clouds melt from scorched ashen sky,
summer rain floats on drizzling waves.
The seeping spectrum of the setting sun
sparkles on the slant of splash,
drenching my mauve meadow.
From the moistened crack of the dry soil
sprouts a sapling spreading tender leaves to sky,
cradles a cute bud flushed by soft touch of rain,
unfurling the pink petals draped in twilight tinge.
In my rain-soaked desolate pasture I see
the patina of rose with the sheen of your smile,
sprinkling the mélange of rainbow hues.
drenched in sunset glint
leaning leaves dance with raindrops…
lattice of pearls glows
September 18, 2020
Syllables count checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : Writing Challenge -Nature, Four In One
Sponsor : Constance La France
Nail slips between lace and hesitant skin
Trembling fingers
meander over virgin ground
Smallest gasp
as she breaths in
Further down
seeking fountain
uncouth
Stop awaiting
permission
Thighs part slightly
Moistened ruby lips
copy on her face
Her breath race
Finger trace
Her hidden place
Gentle or unsure
Wetness welcomes
More
moving inside
Wanton open stride
Eyes can't hide
pleasure
pain
decide
Betrayed by her sighs
as on my hand she slides
Legs shake
Teeth taste lip
Halt
held in perfect plane
Her eyes hungry and insane
Her look almost disdain
This is not a game
Entwined my hair
And pushed with care
my face to replace
The finger that never wants to leave there
Papers and ribbon bang on the floor
The onion scent of white turning into coal,
Smudges of lines trail into her veins
Punching QWERTY keys on a chrome machine
Under a lamp light soft as the pink moon;
The screech of blotted pages dangle through rollers
Waiting for her eyes to speak through hands.
There lay the mumbled words curling up
On a teak chair like nocturnal lyrics
hauling raw drafts slowly glowing
Into fresh contemplation, and the melt
Of coffee stains drips on edges as she
Folds another ream of leaves along bars,
Riddled with ticktocks of a sleepless night.
Then, fresh linings of thoughts bark at the winds
While her lips drench inks of cappuccino
Moistened among burning stars.
259 Contest