Long Neath Poems
Long Neath Poems. Below are the most popular long Neath by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Neath poems by poem length and keyword.
Come, let’s dream
Wept this dream, my thoughts they fill
Take me from this weary place
Where darkness screams a painful chill
In torment of the mind does race
I wait here thick of splintered thorn
My tears they fall upon the seed
In hopes the bloom of perfect dawn
Will light the way of what I need
My hands are sore of calloused fear
Scars my skin they carve a line
Neath bramble branch of broken cheer
Abreast of this near mortal time
Your hand I long of feathered feel
So soft the touch, my heart does wane
These eyes, a love to then reveal
Within your arms, ignite the flame
Lift me, I am frail and weak
Desires but the breath of you
To breathe within this soul I seek
Allowing dreams to mend the true
Or shall I die alone this eve
Beyond the moon of wicked glow
Lost of every captured dream
And nothing more I need to know
I fall to this, my final peace
Lost, the dark impedes the light
Then bow my head, oh fear, now cease
And bid farewell this lonely night
When there, atop, a shadowed form
With torch in hand of flickered fire
Eyes so wide to fend the storm
I reach for her with deep desire
Upon my brow a single kiss
Of angel wings in silken twine
“Arise” a voice, melodic bliss
“I’ve come, my love, to make you mine”
The sun appears on northern trace
As flowers bloom in petals fair
Of wishes I do cast this place
My fortune now to find you there
“Come, let’s dream, let’s dream as one”
You sing to me harmonic voice
“And fall in love till time is done”
My heart has only but one choice
We leave this place of fractured doubt
My hand in yours, no longer pain
A feeling but the need to shout
Dear heavens, thank you once again
For I was lost, a wilted soul
Alone of this and every breath
Of counted stars to take their toll
Awaiting but my coming death
And now my world has filled the brim
With love I find so full inside
My dream is you, has always been
No longer do I run and hide
So now we dream, we dream as one
Such beauty does my life exceed
Perfection to my sight has come
Sweet angel, all I’ll ever need
Good night Soupers
A simple scene a nestling seeks the comfort of the night
to lay enthralled, engrossed, in memories of past days,
the nectar drawn from rivulets that run past blackened lash.
A lidded eye roves left, then right, as if it’s been betrayed
a corner tick, a slight knee twitch, odd choices now made.
The blanket once a comforter now twists so very tight.
A falling dream, a horrid scream, yet no land's in sight.
Bloodless body, writhe, heave, callout, nobody's home
your casing calls, umbilicus, umbilicus, reel me down.
A flying lift of breeze ‘neath hips, a lofting, oh so, high,
brings soul to ground with sighing sound within the dream,
entranced, aroused, the coming light, the end of night, wake.
First Published in Sweet Dreams and Night Terrors 2013
The Girl Who Cried “Death”
The most special woman
To ever walk this world,
Well, she’s died quite young,
This, I am told.
For the ash in her breath
Echos screams, melts her death.
And her lover screams out loud,
But, I am told, she makes no sound.
For in the cracks between dreams,
She slips in between.
And no one can listen,
To her, so it seems.
Because who wants to be
With the Girl who Cried “Death?”
And can friends and family
Get a wide enough breadth?
Death has been her constant
Since she was a child.
And the whole village
Always thought her wicked and wild.
The clouds o’er head
Echoed her mind’s greatest dread.
That her single thread
That kept her most sane;
Death would take her love
Before her brain
Collapsed to the ground.
‘Mong the bees and the flies
And ‘mong the soil,
Watered fresh from the skies,
Buried ‘neath it, she lies.
For their Kings and their Queens
Up there on their thrones, they could tame
The mightiest of paws;
The most fearsome of game.
So that the winter plague,
Filled with Death and visions vague;
Destroyed even King
As he lost his loved Queen.
Soon winter won the game.
Now, she joins me in the Tower,
Watches bells toll the hour;
I cackle again, she has failed.
And upon the King’s breath
Fizzing out with the snow,
She gathers her robes
And she bent her head low.
And she screamed her last ails.
For he would go
To heaven, you see,
And she was left
All alone here with me.
Well, I guess they learned their lesson,
Because this time they didn’t listen,
To the girl who cried “Death.”
For she reaps what she sow.
But I’d never do that to her, do you see??
But Death flitters by, he doesn’t trust me.
As I join the Queens by and by,
Into their fresh tea,
They let out a loud cry.
I wonder if she can hear their last breath.
But I pray that she can’t
As Death’s curtain closes,
The Queens join hand,
As they throw Death’s white roses.
I take my nightly bow.
But what of that wild girl
Whom Death flits between?
And what of her lover?
So gentle, so sanguine?
She is safe from Death for now.
Well, this is not a story,
For that girl, she is me.
And her lover, well, she
Will remain a myst’ry.
But Death has her on his list;
Do you see?
It’s cemented and written
Just ‘bove her right brow.
*Henry Ford developed plastic from soybeans for cars. It degrades!
Art As Activism II
Imagine no longer the sounds of seagulls squawking
or splashing through frothy foam in cool ocean waves
receding as your toes grip onto the wet white sand
Embracing the warmth of the yolk yellow sun
as the sea breeze gusts and the tide gently flows
Shores of majestic sandcastles neath burnt orange sunsets
Now imagine this scene as burnt orange polluted skylines
Alas, owing to the bacteria battles in wastewater spiking our oceans
Beach erosion that finally cannot self-correct
Imagine oceans as deserts and deserts soiled oceans
Tropical storms reshaping their landscapes
Sandy seafloors brusquely barren
Imagine telling your grandchildren
that once upon a time we fished in pristine streams
The ocean waters sublime sparkled in turquoise blues
In June the moon shone in bright pink hues
Big blue sky from rich cobalt to azure ignited
That the ebb tide was a fervent seaward flow
and a bird called albatross never digested debris
in his own home by the sea
That almost every piece of plastic ever made
still exists
That we’ve violated our seas with sea litter
via ocean liners dumping into deep waters
That our actions befouled the oceans
That you the inheritors, the next wave of nature protectors
have nothing left to protect
Gone earth’s beauty
Along the shoreline erodes the walk
The cause climate change, the effect risen sea levels
Harsher storms of vengeful severity,
nuclear testing melting sand
into gritty green glass
Clarity
Earth has given plastic turtle shells and rubber trees
Qualities we can mimic*organic and pollutant free
Tallies tell tales of more plastic
than fish in the sea,
Futile! Floating refuse tripling
crippling wildlife
Manmade warming undeniable,
unconscionable and irreversible
Mariner your actions perilous
Plastic found in fish
In us!
Picked up Jane and we're walking to the balcony,
and shown where we'll be sitting as the crowds mose-in,
and there's some excitement 'neath the floor we had left,
sparked favored light applause from one estranged bereft,
we're bemused fetching about well anchored split views,
what fabled then hath waned onto a seasick cruise,
be no mistake of it with drinks, friends do what's best,
hotel days reminisce thanks to Clint' absent guest,
as they all three turned out as definite no show,
with the place still hoping Jane decided to go,
particularly since she got to go to work that night,
lead's A.M. show and luncheon, I'd sleep on-site.
Jane is a night auditor, a night accountant,
close a hotels daily in and out dependent.
Pebble Beach Lodge is a five-star golf course hotel,
be rooms, restaurants, banquets and bars, is the nutshell,
spas, saunas, massage, yoga, thereapeutic and
salons, horseback riding class, pool concession stand,
and yes, golfing lessons as par for the course, please,
they're not free as they're taught by legends--like their fees.
... home tomorrow ...
Fall glides in on the wings
of migrating monarchs,
stained glass visions seeking respite
from a tedious journey
signaling a change in our surroundings
Blushing, the complexion of November
slips from swimsuit informalities
to fawn layered outfits of earth tone lace
Singing of cool breeze melodies
on chrysanthemum dance steps
Sweetly autumn reaches,
filling every part of my heart
collecting at my feet like fallen leaves
Swirling about me on winds of fleece lined affection
tickling fancies and coaxing smiles
Maple syrup hues cling to pumpkin seed desires,
painting pathways in tinted curves,
outlined in kaleidoscope siftings,
champagne ribbons winding
to stroll with the one you adore
Fireside encounters
warm of passion’s enduring flame
a’ glow on shade drawn windows
and pine needle temptations
floating of chilled evening whispers
Wrapped in my arms, hot cider dreams
gather amidst comforting aromas,
weaving scented shadows neath wool blanket motions
and as the season changes, so do I…
I fall more in love with you
Winter Storm
Inside our warm and comfy bed tonight,
we'll see white sparkling flakes fly past the moon
and mounds pile up 'neath gold and silver light
where satin banks of snow and sky commune.
Protected, safe from snow storm's frigid flow,
as chill forms icicles, both large and small,
we'll drift to sleep lulled softly by moon glow
and swaying tree limb shadows on the wall.
And sleep we will as snow drifts fill the scene...
For come the morn, our spades must plow them clean.
Sandra M. Haight
~7th Place~
Premiere Contest: A Winter Poem
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 12/04/2016
Rules: Include these words: silver, gold, sparkling,
flakes, icicles, drifts, and spades.
Spring Flower Song
Oh lovely Spring, at Winter’s end, you sing and dance
Within our waiting hearts as we look forward to
How nature’s Springtime’s palette will create romance
With beauty of your sprouting flowers born anew.
Sweet yellow Daffodil among the first, you bring
That sunny glow of rebirth to our waiting eyes,
Along with purple Iris, blue Scilla, you sing
And join the gold Forsythia neath sun-filled skies.
Pansy, Anemone, and Crocus blossoms show
The longed-for beauty of our Springtime’s renewed site,
With varied pastel colors and, of course, we know
The fuzzy Pussy Willow’s catkins will delight.
So very blessed we are with new life on our Earth,
As budding Spring fulfills her promise of rebirth.
Sandra M. Haight
~10th Place~
Brian Strand's March 18 Premiere Contest
Judged: 03/11/2018
Iambic Hexameter
I wrap my pillow tightly
around my shivering head
To drown out the hiss and shuffle
neath my rickety old bed
Whispers coming from the dark shadows
Speak my gloom and Impending doom
And the creaking floor echos wildly
throughout this cold dark room
My breath mists like a ghostly apparition
Ready to claim my battered soul
And my hearts beating like a kettle
boiling out of control.
My bodys now quaking like an earthquake
as all fears put a stranglehold on me.
My brain says to run far away
but im locked up in a deep deep freeze.
The sun blasts morning beams
through my dusty window shades
The monster scurries far away
Until the dark returns then he comes back to play.
August 28/ 2016
STALKER
I rue the darkness
follows me
‘neath faded yellow
streetlights
surrounded by the dance
passing shadows
leery
of soft lights.
I fear the demons
that I seek
to keep at bay
the demons that
I flee.
I lurk
beneath an undrawn
curtain
center stage
no lights
no lines
no audience.
I blend
into the shadows
lonely figures
grays and blacks
retreating
into darkness.
I stalk a man
gone
too far, too long
stalking
the demon
stalking
me.
©11/7/2017
submitted to – STALKER – Poetry Contest