Long Nourishes Poems
Long Nourishes Poems. Below are the most popular long Nourishes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nourishes poems by poem length and keyword.
I am the ring around your finger
No matter how much time will pass.
I will always remain.
A vow of trust that cements verbal thought.
A dream come true left imprinted on your finger.
To share truth.
The thoughts we both speak into existence.
I am the ring that reinforces the core from which you and I grow.
The diamond that forms through the pressure of dark times.
I am the band that continuously loops around your finger.
The promise of everlasting.
Through the good, through the bad.
The strength that nourishes us when we are weak.
The different parts of us we continue to meet.
This ring a symbol of how far we've come.
How far we've yet to go
Jeanine wishes good will
For my enemy, whom I cannot deny,
May you find peace in each ray of dawn,
Dispelling darkness, as hope is reborn.
May joy fill your days, like blossoms in spring,
And laughter find you, with melodies that sing.
May you taste the sweetness life has to offer,
In every moment, a treasure to uncover.
May success embrace you, with arms open wide,
And guide your footsteps, on a prosperous ride.
May forgiveness bloom, like flowers in bloom,
Healing scars, erasing shadows of gloom.
May you find love's embrace, authentic and true,
A bond that nourishes, and carries you through.
For in our journeys, we often collide,
In the cosmic dance, where fate does decide,
But enemy, I cast aside ill will
For in the end, we're both but travelers,
Seeking our purpose, dreams and grandeur,
So I leave you with these wishes
May life bless you, God bless you, more than you'll ever know.
I hope I didn’t over do it with my poem of goodwill wishes.
There will be days when no one will grasp the depth of your hidden feelings,
and that's okay, a silent complicity that embraces your soul like a cloak of mystery,
days when your words will get lost in the ether, no matter how loudly your heart longs to be heard,
and that's okay, an echo that returns only to you, like a whisper of the wind through leaves.
There will be moments when people will stop believing in your stories,
as if your dreams were paintings too large for the small frame of their world,
and even then, that's okay, an illusion that dissipates like smoke at dawn, making way for reality.
You will wake up hoping for a sunlit morning, but the clouds will cry in your stead,
you will reach out for the rays of warmth, but meet only the relentless cold of silence,
and it will hurt, a pain that will refine your soul like an unseen sculptor, shaping your essence.
But you will survive, and that's good, because even the rain nourishes the roots of flowers to grow into the light,
and the deep darkness teaches the stars to find their own brilliance in the vastness of the sky.
You don't need to be seen to continue shining like a beacon in the night,
you don't need to be heard to prove the strength that lies steadfast within you,
because even when no one sees you, hears you, or believes in you,
you will still become something beautiful, a flower blooming in the silence of the field,
you will become all that you are meant to be, a universe of endless possibilities and dreams.
Earth
I love to dwell on a hill slope
Where humbly lies my humble home
Bordering the river of hope
With giant trees shrouding its dome.
The sweet water of the river
Nourishes my hillside garden,
A showcase for some rare flowers,
Which I till during the weekends.
I gather strength from morning strolls
On strait lanes along the river
That hums tunes to comfort my soul
And relieves woes of my quiver.
Inhaling the fresh morning air
With sparrows singing their soft songs,
Butterflies hopping everywhere
Procures strength one`s life to prolong.
Staring at some lovely lilies
Opening their buds is delight
That very few other beauties
Can vie as relish to the sight.
Gazing at trees and upper hills
While caring for earth and plant`s health
Invests the heart with shines of thrill
And the body with nature’s strength.
Contemplating beauty of earth
Confers vigour to onlookers
That is enduring till last breath
Of nature saviours and seekers.
Indeed, cherishing earth beauty
Ignites in man love for nature,
Sharpens taste for sublime duty
And his love for Divine Mother.
Women
A point of view
They – flowers of diverse, exquisite, exotic, mysterious beauty –
are beauties that are meant to feed the eyes of men,
are beauties that are meant to stimulate the minds of men,
are beauties that are meant to set fires in the hearts of men,
are beauties that are meant to give wing to the spirit of men,
are beauties that are meant to be the resting place for the souls of men.
Women
They have become the thorns upon the stems of roses,
They have become the thistles that surround their flower,
They have become the poisonous plants that kill off pursuers,
They have become the weeds that strangle – overrun beauty
and assassinate all that nourishes passion, love, life, the spirit.
Men – responsible – has not evolved fast enough to keep up / get past.
B. J. “A” 2
December 29th 2006
tufts of green grass
scattered on the brown earth
of the newly ploughed land
spring up wherever they will
silently
watered by the rain
bathed by the sun
whose rays feed the old leaves
and give birth to new ones
unseen roots spread out
in an underground network
at each node
a new stem shoots up
pushing through the soil
into the sunshine
which nourishes it
clothing it
with a cluster
of brand new leaves
soon
the once brown earth
becomes covered
with a lush carpet
of green grass
here and there
wildflowers spring up
in colourful hues
inviting butterflies
and bees
to feast on their nectar
gaily painted butterflies
blend with the brilliant hues
of the flowers
creating
a kaleidoscope of colours
in a magnificent display of
nature's glorious creation
I am a pine cone tree in the Evergreen state of Washington
My lower branches hang downward, that slap the unwary with pine needles, pine cones, and a hidden —squirrel
The mid branches stretch out for birds to congregate for their nesting
While the upper branches in its smaller gamut reach for the sun
We rally together in the face of windstorms
Albeit, we stand helpless as our forgiving aged remnants tend beneath our girth as the drying summer —heat threatens us
The beast's droppings enrich our soil
Rainwater nourishes us for the furtherance
We exalt in the sands' host of its endless pour through time
And revel in the promise of our pine cone familial forest, assuring our survival's worth
Graceful blossoms frolic in our garden midst bliss
what a sight to behold; I would not like to miss…
Graceful sunflowers sway gaily with wind waltzes
petals stay cleaving while celestial ray gazes...
Graceful gumamelas do showcase each bright bloom
vibrantly vanquishing environmental gloom…
Graceful daisy moves along cold breezy delight
basking with freedom, cheering sparrows in their flight…
Graceful sampaguitas waft serenely sweet scent
oozing blest redolence, seemingly heaven-sent…
Graceful calalilies arrayed in white aglow
sashay like ballerina along strong air blow…
Now praising God* Who nourishes with all His best
our blooms render graceful floral curtsy, so blest!!!
“Praise ye the LORD. I will praise the LORD with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, and in the congregation. The works of the LORD are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.” Psalms 111:1-2
October 1, 2023
HE IS the WORD made FLESH, causing POETRY.
in lines of phi relativity.
Giving Haven, SANCTRUERY.
THE URGE
embellishing upon PLODE-DRAVEN.
The I AM, Inconceivably.
Life's hunger, he flourishes,
with variety's relish, he nourishes appetit
WITH SEASON, to taste at her warmly tit.
He smiles at his BRIDE, in an indescribable way.
The golden glow of LOVE, in auric_rippled face,
speaking in braille of thunder, phrase.
Neverending verse, mystery glazed
with reverberating reason-aburst, ablaze.
He illustrates in Winter, Fall, Spring, Summer.
THE AUTHOR THE CREATOR.
THE POET.
THE ANCIENT OF DAYS
What if the time was not linear
Nor cyclical
Nor dialectical
But shaped like a rose
composed of delicate tender tapestries
spiraling between center and far away
consisting of arduously woven passion
enfolding the seed of life
flush with tenderness and blushing with beauty
reaching out to the world
as life's most resplendent embodiment
and its link to the times to come?
what if the time was a rose
made of einsteinian frames
all petals of rose
a cool fragrant tapestry quilted of finest silk
exquisite
delicate
soft
flush with tenderness and blushing with beauty
through multidimensional craftsmanship
bringing the substance of life
into myriad twists and turns
and caressing the wind
as she nourishes the embodied center
and becomes the embodiment of the sublime
spiraling between the immediate and the eternal?
In the interconnectivity
In the interrelativity
In the intersubjectivity
In the interrationality
In the interemotionality
In the interspirituality
the petal of rose will expound
nourishing
flourishing
burnishing all with fragrance and inspiration
seeking the good of the next and the good of the seed
and the good of the whole
and her greatest excellence
and the universe will bloom through her
spiraling from the center and into the air
and between the seed and the frame
with invisible filaments
to weave the infinite through the incorporeal
and alight and aliven them both in sublimity
making the past and the future the present
and two poles a continuity
that the souls move back and forward through time
at the speed of infinity
on the petal of rose
and in her are made eternal and incorporeal
where timeless and time attain one another
through invisible filaments
and become life transcendent
as she maps
her infinite tenderness
and her arduous excellence
and her ethereal delicacy
in every time-shattering moment
of timed eternity
that is her essence and inspiration
upon the valves
of
my
heart.