Long Pebbled Poems
Long Pebbled Poems. Below are the most popular long Pebbled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pebbled poems by poem length and keyword.
As the last opalescent glow of sunset
fades away
I sail this ship alone
towards a crimson horizon
over a starlit sea
to the soft lapping of waves
which lullaby my destiny
I sail this ship alone
far from the coral sand
far from the pebbled beach
far from my sun-kissed land
Tonight there is no moon
but there's a sparkle in the sky
a starry night so still
filled with beacons of bright light
Tomorrow births a new dawn
a song within a dream
meadows of yellow buttercups
and fields of evergreen
Tomorrow I'll be greeted
by a pink-winged butterfly
a host of daffodils, and golden dandelions
a rose within a smile
Tomorrow I stroll along a new shore
feel fresh salt spray on my cheek
dance bare-foot in the wind
as Spring whispers on the breeze.
One Word…
>>>IS>>>
Poetry…is…
Wears the words of smiles and tears,
And speaks of stumbling through graveyards
And up the aisles to ancient altars;
Falling off of sidewalks and through the cracks of life
Then rising up to stargaze from thin lines;
Tripping over can’t and could have,
Butting heads with treasured idols;
Tracking sticky mud across the new waxed
Marble floor of the soul –
Scratching graffiti on the walls of the heart
Or gently laying kisses on fresh jagged wounds –
Carrying baggage filled with
Stones of calendar pages;
Chanting loudly of sunrise and sunset,
Blending crystal snow with newborn leaves;
Escaping clutches of midnight marauders
Embracing the fairness of rose and mauve;
Ignorance ignored screaming,
Scrapping tender knees and elbows on pebbled concrete,
Painting chaos – weaving breaths – unclogging drains –
Knitting together quietness in blooms of Claire de lune.
Poetry…Is…
Wears the words of frowns and grins
And tells of fat ducklings waddling through spring;
Wrapping scars in isolation,
Discarding blindness
In ancient hearts and newborn souls
And all the in between;
Cleaning closets stuffed to overflowing
With emptiness;
Running with ambivalence,
Looking into the eyes of the unresolved,
Fighting wrinkles or teetering on high heels –
Tuxedos rushing by the tattered,
Ragged holding hands with
Fire dancers balancing upon tight ropes –
Drinking fully from a trough
Of clearest spirits, giving up thirst,
Then wrestling with the fevers
Of inspiration through witness eyes,
Shouting across the centuries in baritone and soprano,
Reaching out and gathering in – juggling balls and overflowing plates.
The very marrow and the core,
The words of a poet yesterday – “Pretty, hell, poetry is…life.” Robert Penn Warren – June 1986
Long feathered edges from the red sunset
As dreams fly through evening skies to explore
Two hearts whisper, in a paradise, met
Love's mouth is kissed on the sandy shore
Time moves to moments they'll reminisce
While curled white-capped waves, till soft pebbled sand
In this realm of twilight, eternal bliss
From a gentleness of a lover's hand
As they lay still beneath light glows above
To enjoy the night sky, the waves implore
They acknowledge the presence of love
In the moon's shadow of the waves encore
They ask to speak to the heart they adore
And seal their fate, lovers forevermore
Gethsemane's fragrance soothes our Lord,
In prayer He kneels and rends His Heart.
He pleads for mercy but His hour has come,
Our chalice to be drunk, consumed by the Word.
Led away to the dungeon cell,
Cold and stark, prepared for hell;
Stripped and striped, the bell
Of death sounds its knell.
Weak and exhausted, the robe
Of a King adorns His Grace,
The Crown of Thorns spike His face.
Mockery and spittle leave their trace.
Through narrow ways, along pebbled stone
The Victorious beam He bears for all,
The crowd hurl insults, hear his groan,
They smite His Cross of gall.
Nailed and humiliated, cries of pain,
Hoisted high, feeling the strain,
Crushed for love, for all to see,
This mortal man of deity.
Despite the crisp chill
She wandered to the pebbled shore.
Cold water washed her tender feet.
At last, she sat beneath a pine tree
on a shaven log, shaped like a bench
A train of thoughts passed through her muddled mind.
She wondered if life was passing her by.
She shrugged. There was nothing she could do.
A grey gull screeched overhead. She laughed.
Ships, small or large, would go on their way,
Especially love boats on their route to exotic shores,
but she had to stay put,
Until he came back to her again.
Then she would be euphorically happy once more.
Thus she dreamed and fantasized,
moulding her life according to her standards.
But love cannot be forced
nor found on love boats.
They are created deep in the heart
or as was her case, lost at sea
in a terrible turbulent storm.
Seeking out the sanctuaries
till jaggedness wears; blunt
only tumbles harder, to boo
nightmarish: it knocks keen
etching, grooves which rake…
Fleeing sleep, a roused huff
real, wheels in its silent war;
engages a caged subterfuge:
Eloquent is a pebbled stone!
(8/15/2020: Inspira: Sanctuary contest & ‘04 Eliminator 30 Daytona, Davis)
Stone Free Footnotes:
Should I heed the unconscious, or toss?
Throw it back to its recess of non-exist
Obscure it and blank out an angry emo
Not turned, the stone sinks in a cavern
Eventually it buries so deep and I, free…
Free…; till a flooding dream flashes grief
Released, it streams in polish, smoother
Eely slippery it slithers easily to the fore
Emerging, it shines in its dark: do I flee?
Like as the waves make toward the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Quote from Shakespeare’s Sonnet LX
Lines one and two
Source: The works of Shakespeare
Ward, Lock & Co Limited
London, Melbourne and Toronto 1911
Blank Canvas
Our earth has colours rich beyond compare
The force of nature we shall never tame.
Where hidden treasures underground so rare
Reminds us daily nothing stays the same.
The tapestry of life is woven fine
Each thread depends upon the master’s loom.
Connected through the one who is divine
Ensuring colours with each season bloom.
Create: the artist paints from canvas blank
The strokes of life are seen upon our face
On bended knee we know who we must thank
Bright colours of our lives we must embrace.
These precious gifts shall treasure till the end
Upon our death our soul then must ascend.
Christine 20/4/2025
Just before dawn
It is late at night, almost morning; the silence is as noisy as high
tide washing over the pebbled shore. Gloom hangs in the air like
a horse blanket covering a nag`s rain-sodden back.
Tomorrow is the first of October; years have been piling up on me,
this quiet messenger of spent youth and yesterday’s ghosts I have
done my best to ignore, are back mocking me.
Dawn, a cockerel crows I hope my neighbour will kill it and eat it
for his Sunday lunch. The intrusive unvoiced is like watching
a black & white reel of my life, a litany of failures.
Sigh, I didn`t get to meet Marilyn Monroe. This moment when I
Should take stock of my life, all I can think about is to buy
for the fire Monday morning
SEABED SOAKED
coconuts float from purple palms
in the tropics
thirsty for its watery alms
wet umbrella
a salad that tosses and turns
a fever burns
consoler massages my burns
my suntan bleek
warm winds cannot compete with skin
red raw and spurned
as you run off with youthful sin
down pebbled beach
her hair carelessly bleached from sun
hand in hand with
my crinkled, decrepit old one
her smile will fade
as red foraminifera
turns beaches pink
she soon will stand on graying sand
with missing link
flame from mirthful cheeks - fever’s fried
i laugh out loud
and snap a towel at backside
of seaside hunk
1/16/2019
Fiction - I’m happily married :)
We saw the feathered edge of the sunset
and dreampt of an evening's wish to explore
Where the beating heart of our yearnings met
And invited romance at the seashore
Where time began to merge and reminisce
As white caps slowly furrowed the pebbled sand
The twilight revealed our heart's eagerness
When we walked together, warm hand in hand
Imagined dreams beneath a star-lit night
And basked in the glorious firmament
Where waves were dressed in white from the moonlight
and sounds from the sea whispered enchantment
As we came to capture Saint Elmo's Fire
That was glowing deep inside our desire