Long Ponds Poems
Long Ponds Poems. Below are the most popular long Ponds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ponds poems by poem length and keyword.
a Walk in-
the woods with debussy's
prelude to the afternoon
in my ears
time stands still
the warmth of the sun
music echoing amongst trees
the chant
of songbirds
oh peace and tranquility embrace
the benedictine monks
of santa domingo
a single melodic note
sung in unison
I listen to the ocean surf
the wild
cascading
waves
sweeping
me away
in the voice of nature
time
stands
still
meditation with bach and beethoven
mozart's concerto shuman's fantasy
the piano enchants me
the violins take me away
I am oneness with earth
trees that touch the sky bring
serenity
tranquility
time stands still
morning elegance
storms and wind and soft rain
hidden mountain retreats
enchanted meadows swaying
wild thunder songbird serenades
nightfall's cloak wolves calling
hidden coves and woodland ferns
moss clinging and wild flowers growing
in meadows
blowing hair
picker of buttercups
daisies
dandelions
life is chaotic and confusing
I find the serene and peaceful
amongst ponds and streams
listening to classical music
oh listen to the loons
________________________
January 7, 2016
Free Verse
Entered in the contest, Your Best Free Verse
sponsor, A Poet Destroyer
Seventh Place
Entered in the contest, Free Verse Extravaganza
sponsor, Catie Lindsey
Did not place
Taking Bare of Your Self
Reflecting on the silent moments when the Self absorbs itself
Tim is called preposterous a villain and contentious narcissist
He looks into the mirror ponders on ponds of accusations
Yet hurts no others rejects a portion of what he recovers
No aggression no hurting others no transgressions he simply
Choses to take a good honest look at the prism of his meaning
The surface surges with a splatter as he views beyond the
Grimace of distortion salvages and abandons faulty grins
In the nude he dives into the wrinkled waters of salty tears
Mediates in breathless meditation sheds weight and anger
Takes care of his truth at the bottom of uncertain sediments
Strips groundless fearsome fathom fragments and thus retrieves
Bystanders do not like that he appears to be marvelling when
He only begs to differ from others and himself before he rises
Dissents consents dissolves ambivalence does not retaliate
False censorship of crowds that cannot will not wish to see
When onlookers label in projection and throw a stone he catches
What matters to him and walks away with kindness towards himself
20th July 2018
In the pediment of the blue hills rolling down from the horizon,
the rising crimson sun spread surreal splendor on the landscape,
etched with carvings of meandering streams, verdant meadows,
transparent ponds, thriving thickets and emerald vale of flowers.
My youth embedded in the naïvety of juvenile exuberance,
fluttered on the wings of indigo birds scaling the cerulean sky,
like my colorful kites flying at the fringe of the fleeting clouds,
my flying fantasy took their nebulous shapes, I keenly marveled.
I wondered what they meant, for they were so expressive in form,
designed by the intricate play of the opposites, light and shade,
like the pattern the filtered sunbeams created piercing the foliage
on the floor of the forest where I ventured to chase the butterflies,
or like at dulcet sunset the dancing design of lengthening shadows
are sketched by the trees on the pond rippling at sailing swan’s wake,
I followed swimming away from the seething heat of summer.
The infantile motifs engraved on the ductile young mind
lie buried under the dust time blew across the uprooted life.
At the edge of the falling night I trace the faint footprint trail,
searching beneath the dust for the pale picture of my youth.
January 10, 2021
Contest : The Good Old Days
Sponsor : Mystic Rose Rose
~Natures Great Gift From God~
(Cinquain Chain)
Nature
Great gift from God
Trees are nice, important
They give us shade, fruits to eat too
And more
And more
Many nice things
Trees give us paper and
Houses to live in and nice books
To read
To read
Learn everything
Nature is beautiful
All the flowers and plants grow too
In spring
In spring
See deer, birds, frogs
Around forests and ponds
Butterflies dance, bees get honey
All day
All day
And night a gift
From God, summer, winter
Spring and fall, beautiful nature
All time.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2012
March.07.2017
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”
- Mark Twain-
~Author's Notes:
The " Cinquain " is a poetry form or style developed by the Imagist poet, Adelaide Crapsey.
I dive into thoughts, wishing my verses would soar ever higher,
Like a bird with boundless wings, lost in distant and divine horizons,
But they only float, like water birds with netted feet,
Tilting their wings in vain, without reaching the dreamed destinations,
Helplessly watching skylarks and eagles fly towards the edges of the sky.
How I wish my poems would sail across limitless expanses,
Like ships parting ways, heading towards distant lands,
Carrying my fantasies to the ends of the earth!
But they remain like paper boats, launched by playful children,
Drifting here and there on muddy ponds, without a set course.
How I wish my verses would meander over hills and valleys,
Like a mountain stream flowing to merge with the sea, crossing miles,
But they slide like serpents, struggling to move on polished floors.
How I wish my poems would grow from chrysalises into butterflies,
Flying among flowers and feeding on the nectar of life,
But they remain crawling worms, destined to hide beneath leaves.
How I wish, like an inspired artist, to paint on my canvas with skillful hands,
The brilliance and glory of the setting sun, the freshness and beauty of spring flowers,
The awe-inspiring majesty of mountains, the silence of the lonely lagoon,
The dark grandeur of untouched thickets, the sunny clearings of forests,
And scenes and vistas so varied and countless,
That I might lay before you in magical hues, the wonders of an unseen paradise!
But alas! What I leave on my canvas is just a mundane scene!
My poems, like kites tangled among the branches of trees,
Are devoid of the flight towards infinity!
I’ve been privileged ‘cause I’ve seen
The paintings of Monet.
One museum near my house
Has many on display.
The gardens of Monet provided
So much inspiration,
His palette came from Nature
More than his imagination.
I never knew how true that was
Until I paid a visit
To Monet’s garden, re-created,
Looking most exquisite.
The experts horticultural
Of New York’s main Botanical
Did such a bang-up job I’m sure
Their research was fanatical.
The water lily ponds are filled
With plants as flat as platters
And such purple-petaled flowers
Standing next to them just flatters.
There’s a copy of the famous bridge
From Monet’s house in France
And surrounding it, a swirl of blooms
The colors of romance.
A vacation to Giverny
Isn’t something I have planned,
But the New York imitation
Made me start to understand
That the genius of Monet was more
Than paintings that enchanted;
For the magic he created
Was inspired by what he planted.
(written after visiting The New York Botanical Garden’s exhibit)
~Natures Great Gift From God~
(American Cinquain Chain)
Nature
Great gift from God
Trees are nice, important
They give us shade, fruits to eat too
And more
And more
Many nice things
Trees give us paper and
Houses to live in and nice books
To read
To read
Learn everything
Nature is beautiful
All the flowers and plants grow too
In spring
In spring
See deers and frogs
Around forests and ponds
Butterflies dance bees get honey
All day
All day
And night gift from
The Lord winter summer
Spring and fall, beautiful nature
All time.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2012
June.26.2016
~Author's Notes:
The "Cinquain" is a poetry form or style that was developed by the Imagist American poet, Adelaide Crapsey.
I love to meander in a forest green
to discover nature and things growing wild
I love ferns all filigree and silent ponds
and moss hanging from trees
the hush of a marsh and birds and songs that exist there
in the deep shadows and the mellow tranquil hues
I love to linger and just listen
to the voices of the forest talking to me
one day a gang of blue butterflies came fluttering
to where I lay contemplating life
they swirled and floated and came to me to look
I put out my hand and one perfect butterfly
hovered then sat upon my hand
I did not want to breathe for I knew this was special
it was only a moment but touched me deeply
and I will never forget the magic
of blue butterflies in a marsh mellow
________________________
July 8, 2020
Poetry/Free Verse/Marsh Butterflies
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1266-974-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, butter flies and marshes mellow
sponsor, Kai Michael Neumann
Ninth Place
Concrete lanes going north ribbon themselves past barns and fields and small towns. A talk show interview plays on the radio, saying everyone has a story to tell. This morning a ghost of a passing moon hangs to the west, holding onto dreams. As I drive, I feel I’m in some kind of dance with friends of the past and friends of now. All I have to do is to pull to the side, close my eyes and watch the planets and stars dance beyond the blue. This land bears its history of prairies and forests cleared, of natives gone. Just before the turn off, ponds shimmer under the sun, giving a moment’s peace. Just beyond, some other people to greet, memories to envision another day.
travels luminate
landscapes of my many lives
reflections of time
there was these woods as a kid that always gave me chills
full of trees and rocks,ponds and hills
there were more things lurking that in the forest
snakes hanging from trees ,wolves howling in chores
i couldn't help thinking that those were unholy grounds
always feared entering due to frighting sounds
then there was always this bonechillin breeze
constantly have you thinking that someone was hiding behind the trees
at night you could hear the different monsters as they creep
listen closely you'll hear the pounding sounds of giant feet's
just the dreary darkness gave me quite the scare
so i never cared to know what was really out there
but here i am i'm back now
and i must overcome my fear of those woods somehow
just one more fear , i know i can kick it
and i found out those woods were just some thickets
alot of tall grass and a few smalls trees
and those snakes hanging were just funny looking leaves
i geuss i imagine all those creepy sounds
for there was nothing but coons and dogs running around
there were pine cones falling and the flapping wings of birds
and that small creek cant be all the water i heard
well i guess those woods don't scare me like they did
cause i see much clearer now than when i was a kid!!!!!!!!