Long Ornament Poems
Long Ornament Poems. Below are the most popular long Ornament by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ornament poems by poem length and keyword.
Spectacular! Nature’s decoration
Perfect art work demands admiration.
Void vacuum framing firmament
as skillful goldsmith making ornament.
Galaxies are set in cosmic align.
Sparkling stars embroidering design.
Charming cerulean sky: A surprise.
Great wonderful art to visualize.
Mother Earth paints peerless panorama
in series without full stop or comma.
Flora-fauna flourishing on lively sketch
Sun rays brushing artistic touch to fetch.
UNIVERSE! Artist Nature’s creation
conforming progress of evolution.
View a rose landscape: rose shrubs for pleasure,
admiration and desire. Natures’ natural beauty with a sweet scent
Of Roses hybrid teas: their features of abundant large ornate blooms with colorful petals budding from long luscious green stems extending
Roses grandiflora: tall and statuesque blooms that comes in vigorous and vivacious clusters rather than many precocious individual ones
Roses floribunda: a cross of hybrid teas with polyantha:
this of large clusters of beautiful blooms that are continuous and steady
Roses polyantha: are of smaller roses than floribunda roses this at about 1 inch in diameter; many are seen on hedges and on white picket fences
Roses shrubs: has sprawling vine stems in all directions and are hardy in fine cool temperatures; also having a grand flower cluster of sensuous sweet fragrances
Roses of miniature or miniflora: they are shorter and more compact in growth yet, the impact is not miniature in all its glorious pleasure
Roses in bushes: has vibrant colors of pinks, reds, yellows, white and orange;
all are of joyful displays of a nature's lovely ornament enchantments
Their stems pruned and shaped are a designed landscape: seen on houses and a countryside and a holiday display and a great grand parade and a lovely lady's fine wedding day
For words were my clays and in wisdom they were burnt
The Potter the mighty One his clays He tender to
smoothen that they be made into shapes
4:1 Hear, ye children, the instruction
of a father, and attend to know
understanding. 4:2 For I
give you good doc
Forsake ye not
my law.
4:3
The edifice of my mind made granites instructions
For I was my father's son, tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother. He taught me also, and said unto
me, Let thine heart retain my words:
keep my commandments,
and live Get
wisdom,
And the architect my foundation understanding mingled
calculation forget it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth. 4:6 Forsake her not, and she shall
preserve thee: love her, and she shall keep
thee. 4:7 Wisdom is the principal
thing; therefore get
wisdom:
and with all thy getting get understanding. 4:8 Exalt her, and she shall promote thee: she shall bring thee to honour
, when thou dost embrace her. 4:9 She shall give
to thine head an ornament of grace: a crown
of glory shall she deliver to thee. 4:10
Hear, O my son, and receive my
sayings; and the years of
thy life shall be many
4:11 I have taught
thee in the
way of
wisdom; I have led thee in right paths. 4:12 When thou goest, thy steps shall not be straitened; and when thou runnest
thou shalt not stumble. 4:13 Take fast hold of
instruction; let her not go: keep her; for she
is thy life. 4:14 Enter not into the path
of the wicked, and go not in the
way of evil men.
Foundations rocked on words wisdom, instructions, built my edifice a tall ivory building called shelter
EN POINTE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Upon a dimly lit state she stands
en pointe, defying gravity.
Time pauses, suspended like
dust motes dancing in the spotlight.
She holds the moment
like a fragile glass ornament,
balancing herself on the edge
between her grace and strength.
What thoughts swirl in her mind,
as the audience holds its breath?
Does she ponder the road that led her here,
the sacrifices, the bruises, the pain?
Or does she simply bask in the glow,
the blissful beauty of the moment,
where she is both dancer
and the dance?
The curtain rises; her spirit soars
anchored in the grace of holding on,
the beauty of standing still,
en pointe.
TRUE BEAUTY
To the eye of the beholder,
True beauty rarely seen,
She captures none with flirting eyes,
Her attire does not demean.
Her presence, soft, as of a dove's,
If you're careful enough she'll stay,
Few there are that recognizes,
her worth this very day.
Her words though few, her silence speaks loudly,
Never deceit or lies within,
Her Angels are there and walk beside her,
For one tear they will defend.
A hidden Truffle, rare to find,
An oyster's treasured pearl,
Her love, more excellent than wine and riches,
This very precious girl.
The prideful man may never find her,
and know the loving ocean in her very kiss,
For few eyes or lips will ever taste and see,
True beauty such as this.
A woman of God, woman of virtue,
blessed is the man to add her to his life,
He has received great favor from God,
An ornament of true beauty for a wife.
Lots of love around
There's no shortage of affection and care
It seems like a dream
Happiness and smiles around me everywhere
Loaded with ornaments,
I feel like a princess
Shining gold and twinkling diamonds
I am studded with world's most precious pieces
Receiving complements from loads of friends
All wishing me for a happy married life
All call it as a day they would have wished for
I seem surely the luckiest wife
It's more than what a girl can wish
The In-laws as caring as my own mother
A gem of a person is my lovely husband
My parents really need not ever bother
I am entering a family of riches
A family of smiles, a family of pride
This new home is really a dreamland
I bet this can't ever be really denied
As I lift my eyes and look at my husband
I see his smile and love loaded eyes
I return a smile and make him happy
To make me smile, he continuously tries
I hear people say-The girl's fortunate
I hear people say-my parents must be proud
My parents are happy to see me in this place
People say-They have got a daughter who is a pearl in the crowd
As my husband moves to talk to his friends
I take out my purse to adjust my face
I look in the mirror to adjust the ornaments
I look in the mirror to bring a smile on my face
With a kerchief, I just wipe a tear that rolled off
I try to wipe off the extra makeup efforts
As another tear rolls down
I tell observers that the nose ornament hurts
I search for beauty creams in the small purse
Then again, I adjust my hair
I look at the small image that seems to be hidden in it
I try to close the purse, but my eyes still stare
As my husband nears,
I manage a smile, and close the purse
Before closing the purse, I adjust my face
And see to it that the third tear dries
Happy that no one looked at my makeup purse
The mirror I look in, are my real love's eyes.
-- As read by in a girl’s eyes
Chastity is the jewel of a girl and character ,the ornament of a woman
Exalted are the women of such ornamentation
Like a diamond , like a precious stone
Not to expose , A girl of such Tone(Type)
Like a motherland , like a home
The dignity of a girl Mariyume(Virgin Mary)….
Clubs are not the places of the Holy Frau
The trade of a girl is not worthy of a nation
Not are the sons the whore-monger of daughters!
Like a shield in the battlefield, are the sons of the nation
Character of a girl , the character of a nation
Future builder are the daughters of the nation
Spoiling a girl , is spoiling a nation
Making not marring is the Job of the belle(Beautiful) creation
Purity ,Modesty is marking up(marking up is increase value) a girl
Making her the Mother Mary of the nation
Chastity is the jewel of a girl and; Character,the ornament of a woman
Exalted are the women of such Ornamentation
Planets.
Pearl-bright.
Patient.
Each one
a polished bead
gliding through
black silk,
each silver arc
held in a hush
of law.
No crash.
No cry.
Only curves.
Only the slow
spill of moonlight
across distance,
only the clean
turn of bodies
kept by light.
Black hole.
Bruise in space.
Mouth of midnight.
A hunger
with no face.
It takes light
as breath.
Bends it.
Breaks it.
Leaves nothing
but the shape
of a void.
Not ornament.
Not mercy.
Not even anger.
Just appetite.
Just absence
with teeth.
And still —
it belongs.
A flaw
in fine glass.
A dark seed
in the stars.
A wound
the sky
does not close.
The pearl
and the prism,
the ring
of ice-bright moons,
the seam of light
stitched across dark,
the lucid lattice
of orbit.
The planets keep
their measured glow —
white fire,
silver tide,
a clean geometry
of turning.
We live
by such motion too.
The calculated
white fire of habit,
the cold silver
of our duties.
And then
the pulse.
A wilder rapture
that does not circle,
an internal eclipse,
a sudden,
faceless hunger.
Small orbits.
Hidden falls.
A face
still bright
while gravity
breaks beneath.
So let the heavens
remain uneven.
Let the black hole
keep devouring.
Let the planets
keep circling
their silver law,
their pearl-lit rounds,
their patient,
lucid blaze.
Beauty, perhaps,
is not innocent.
Only pattern
holding
at the edge
of disappearing.
We all have Christmas traditions that no matter how we change and grow…
harken back and remind us of Christmases long ago.
A certain ornament, a song, an aroma that can elicit a smile, a laugh…a tear
as we remember a time, a place, a moment…with someone we hold dear.
I love to take time out during the holidays…when everything’s moving so fast
A quiet moment in an empty house…to visit those echoes of the past.
When I close my eyes and listen in the silence and solitude I find…
I can see and hear those echoes of the memories left behind.
A lavishness of memories in which I’m free to linger, run…or stroll.
A cornucopia of memories over which time no longer has control.
I’m like a child in a candy store once those memories have started…
I visit last year, many years ago, family and friends still here…
and those who have departed.
You might think I’d be sad…that sorrow would overtake my mind…
when I’m visited by a memory…someone departed left behind.
But I’m not! Because from the moment I see or hear them…
the moment their memory arrives…
it’s as if they never left…as if they’re still alive!
And for that moment we’re together…celebrating the place, the time…the day
before circumstances…fate…or destiny…took them all away.
Yes, these moments in my empty house
fill me with much more laughter than sorrow and tears…
for although I’m sad they have departed…I’m so happy they were here.
Visiting these memories always leave me smiling…
feeling a little wistful…and tenderhearted….
but happy I’ve had a moment to wish a Merry Christmas…
to those who have departed.
Our Tree
Carrying green, luscious needles on gracefully stretching limbs,
Strong, straight trunk holding all that bounty together,
Emitting cool, spicy fragrance that touches our senses with delight,
The Christmas tree is reaching for us.
We see, we smell, we hold this wonder of nature;
We tie it to the top of our car and carry it home
With expectant smiles of happy times to come.
After a short rest in our peaceful back yard,
The day comes when we bring it into the house.
Without any struggle it stands and soon holds strands
of twinkling lights, making it glow and sparkle.
Friends join us in decorating,
We are surrounded by boxes of treasures,
we remember each ornament and relive
the moment it was created, or given to us by a loved one.
“This is the first ornament we bought after we were married,
The girls painted these when they were, oh, maybe 6 and 8 years old,
And these with roses on them are the last gift from Dad, before we lost him.
Our son loved the Lionking, so we got him this ornament.”
“I made these when I was going through my wood working phase,
And this is from a very dear friend.
My sister found this cat ornament, knowing I like cats,
And here is this year’s find I bought at the Christmas place.”
Now it’s time for a break, coffee and cookies.
But soon we look upon the masterpiece
we created with satisfaction.
“Oh, it’ so beautiful!” my heart sings.
This tree would win no price at a contest,
It has no color theme, only love and joy.
It carries the precious memories of times gone by,
Of a loving family and lots of good friends.
I believe the tree likes it .
It stretches with all the glitter and smiles proudly.
I wake up to it’s wonderful pine scent,
Thinking:” It’s Christmas time!
I love it”