Long Promises Poems
Long Promises Poems. Below are the most popular long Promises by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Promises poems by poem length and keyword.
My Angel she walks many miles with me
Through stormy roads , footprints I see
I experience near death, It swarms! Hence!
Beauteous the wings beneath my soul, although feelings tense
I endeavor the road day by day, I see oblivious skies
She rides the clouds when away from my soul, she flies
I awake each day she will comfort my being
And she'll call my name someday to the calling
For now reflections set my very mood
And her wings carry me as they protrude
Through thick and thin I'll cherish the beauty of thought
And recollect the spirits charming me with her love
Remembering love can't be bought
God's love promises us the real thing to comfort time
The angels from the heavens knocking at the door- take us sometime
Lol
LETTY
Free Verse
FORTY - SIX years ago when I said, I do
The day, I gave my name to you
With a tearful eyes I made a solemn vow,
To love and take good care of you.
Like a brittle crystal, I’ll take care of you in my heart.
Never to hurt, nor make you cry
I said that vow when our hearts were entwined
In the altar of matrimony- in the presence of God.
But sorry my love, indeed, I’m sorry
There were times - my promises were shuttered apart
Again and again, my blunders you've forgiven,
You said: you deserve another chance.
Why am I so weak?
Why am I so fragile?
Why is my heart so feeble?
I’m sorry for a love so fiddle.
Now that we are in our twilight years,
With my cane in my quivering/shriveled hands,
Let me whisper in your ears my dear
I will never " do it again ".
With our three kids and eight lovely grand kids,
That surround us in our rocking chair,
In my heart I whisper a silent prayer,
'T i l death do us part my dear.
Happy 46th Wedding Anniversary
I LOVE YOU, I HONESTLY LOVE YOU.
In waiting for you, my love, the seasons have snowed in black and white,
The landscape of our time together has been painted in trenches of lingering silences,
And every moment without your voice, an eternity crystallized in waxen clocks,
The autumns have passed with winds that leafed through memories like pages rare.
Since I've been waiting for you, my love, so many years have slipped by...
The long road of your absence has been sprinkled with shooting stars,
The weeping celestials, in the night of my soul, are the lighthouses of an abandoned edifice,
The city of my heart is in mourning, and its streets bare and numbed.
And the mournful sunsets of violet purples,
Are faded lipstick marks on the rim of a forgotten glass,
Yesteryear's dreams have become cobwebbed in untamed thoughts,
Where are you, love lost in the fields of lavender of unshared evenings?
I waited for you at the crossroads of roads, a spider's web stretched between yesterday and today,
Where vows of love were carved in wind and promises of smoke,
Like shadows that dimmed beneath the flicker of candles nibbled by oblivion,
The springs have faded, the celebrated red chestnuts have rusted, in a leaden festivity.
Yet no one passed by there, no echo, just absence as a heavy cloak,
The gate to you seems locked with a thousand padlocks of steadfast memories,
By the sea I dream of you, a foam statue waiting in silence,
Only the waves, prompt in mysteries, confide to me the secret of the parted.
The ocean of my soul waves its unseen wings,
In the close murmurs of hidden shells on endless shores,
I wonder what solemn horizons, what illuminated passages have you walked since you left?
The waves respond with froth of cold regrets and with untouched, uncreated prints.
And this evening, again, the violins cry beneath my window,
Soothing their longing in faint voices piercing the amber sky's infinity,
It's the autumn of a soul that submerges under time, under yearning, under an unconsoling sky,
In a lamentable dance to the notes of romance, which fall away like leaves in the wind, wandering without end.
Continued From:
2. "Quien es?" "Who is it?" Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195856
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He loved to read. He loved to sing. He loved to dance and even act.
He'd spend many days involved with his school plays.
His mother's death however would put an end to all of that.
Her loving memory probably grieved him all the rest of his short days.
He loved her devotedly and he lost her at a time when she was the whole of his life.
A large part of his heart surely died as he cried
beside his mother at her deathbed that night.
After Mrs Catherine Antrim was laid down to rest,
her two sons would be separated and go from one foster home to the next.
The kid must have wondered if he'd ever again see his brother Joe.
Was Joe his older or younger brother? This is another fact we don't know.
We do know that their step father, one William Antrim ,
abandoned the offspring of his departed wife Catherine.
Catherine knew she was dying and probably married Antrim to insure
that her boys would always have a family and home.
If he promised to care for and love them, his promises weren't pure.
Catherine no sooner died and Antrim was gone.
He wasn't even there on the day that she died,
nor during the days that preceded the end of her suffering pneumonia.
With one last look into their eyes, he gave the brothers their final separate good byes.
William Antrim then left the boys and moved to Clifton, Arizona.
And so began the short and violent life of this unfortunate child.
Legend doesn't accurately portray the brutal harshness of the true life he had lived.
His was the tragedy of a promising young boy, forced to become a man while still a child.
All would one day know him as Billy, the Kid.
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To Continue Go To:
4. Billy, the Kid
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195852
So many life struggles come our way
filled with tension and anxious thoughts
these thoughts are used to put us down
by the enemy of our souls, Satan's clot
Personally speaking life's full of tension
all my day's been stammering stuck
the tension produced in me so sore
bringing blocks in speech like an Arctic truck
Sometimes you've just got to hang in there
wait for deliverance to draw you out
the release button comes praying it on
no matter what inner thoughts are about
Tension can be a terrible thing
making your breath thin and narrow
anxiety seeks to keep you in its grip
tear it down shooting your arrow
In the long term, growth comes along
slowly but surely giving you faith
for God promises never to leave
despite your troubles, Jesus loves you He saith
“Stampede: The Bitumen Blooms”
All the promises under the Sun
could never buy time, and
all that glistens on a wrist in a heartbeat succombs
peels away the romance
like tinfoil scraps, wrapped and cutting like razors
into the skin of what matters most
liked barbed wire
around a wrist bleeding
glistening golden brands like some kind of reigning crown
the so-called pulse of keeping up with the J’s
will never deliver the most precious intangible,
it burns inside out unseen
underneath the bitumen
the buried truth blooms
strange journeys crawl
and their animals released
from the cage,
eventually,
stampede;
sacrifices are made.
Candide Diderot. ‘25
She lies in silence in her corner room,
so restless in the center of her bed,
recalling vows she made so long ago.
"For better for worse"--sweet words she said.
"For richer for poorer," she had vowed.
"Love, honor, and obey" came from the heart.
Their lives became as one; their beings joined.
How could such unity be torn apart?
How many evenings has she sat alone
and asked her soul-deep questions of the night,
here in her little corner of their world
where shattered dreams might be imagined right?
He sits in silence in another room
in his domain for evening's retreat,
recalling one fine day so long ago
when promises and kisses were so sweet.
The golden bands, the wedding cake, her lace--
bright images of love that's just begun--
grew dim with time, and oneness slowly died
like waning brightness of the setting sun.
How many evenings has he sat alone
and wrestled with the loneliness he feels,
here in his little corner of their world,
regretting what his shadowed thoughts reveal?
written over thirty years ago
December 30, 2018, entered in Mark Toney's 2019 Poetry
Marathon, Mile 7 Placed 9th of 10
Date: October 8, 2020
Contest: Impress Me with an Old Poem (002) Placed 5th
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
September 15, 2021
Entered in the "L" Poetry Contest placed 2nd
Sponsor: Constance La France
God here speaks revealing all of Himself
with authority and certainty, real conviction
promising His people that He's their God
providing their own land showing their direction
No memory can count all your descendants
for it'll be spread the world over
all the way from coast to coast
this makes you feel truly resplendent
This brings to all people's real blessing
sent down from heaven above no less
for God has declared that this is so
the creator Himself did so confess
God promises something no one else can
to be with His people always to watch
with His careful eye upon them always
bringing them back home all His plan
The Lord laid down His promised plan
not to leave them till all was done
all that the Lord had promised to do
this a prerunner done by God's son
(There above it stood the Lord, and he said: “I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”)
Genesis 28: 13-15
Flowers in bright, brilliant colors
Hues of lavender, rose and scarlet
Heavenly joys planted by hands
Who know the way to the heart
Is breathed in whispers of joy
Alive, dancing with a vibrancy
That comes alive during moments
When light meets the star filled eyes
Butterflies, lighting up the morning
With breathtaking radiance, luster
Shining across the dawn like a sunrise
Welcoming the moments of hope
Inspired by feelings that flow softly
Assuring the heart that there is love
Living through all the worry and hurt
Capturing the day with an embrace
Robins and cardinals, living promises
Of the moment when hope meets honesty
And the light baths the trees in a glow
Painting the wind with a luxuriant smile
Beckoning to the soul that knows belief
Brings a gentle and wise inner serenity
Warming the feelings with a quiet strength
That radiates through sweet, loving grace
There are millions of sensations washing
The world… in a blushing elation that comes
Alive, like fire, desire, passion – dancing
In hope, faith and love – God’s blessings
Brought down to us on the wings of angels
Who guide us in the direction of worship
Praise of the One who always makes a way
For the heart who listens to His loving direction
With a prayer filled with praise, we discover
The lasting grace that leaves us anchored
In a sense of knowing this gentle faith
That leads us quietly toward the light
Dazzling and delightful, it sets us free from
Worry, sadness and grief… releases us
From the pain that brings bitterness within
To the joy of love that is unconditionally given
Love like this can only be felt, never seen
It is love that comes alive with each whisper
The rush of emotion stilled
The air once consumed by an undiluted energy
Now eerily quiet
Something lingers in the air
Justice?
No something louder but hidden
A violence so silent
It could go unnoticed by those who don't care to see
Those who choose wilful ignorance
The streets once crowded by protest
Now sits empty
Brought down from the high of purpose
Now left with an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness
The stench of death plagues the streets
Where once voice and life used to meet
Now only emptiness you will greet
Only thing left is failed legacies and echoes of long gone feet
The people who assumed these spaces
Just like the streets now empty
The promises of a better future
Dead like the movement
Despite having enough strength in their bodies to go on
Mourning takes their time of what's lost
Hoping to gain the strength to march again
But as the world continues to hate instead of help
Slowly losing their joy, the best parts of themselves
They are tired though not from the burning screams for justice
Nor the tiring marches
But through a slow realisation that the world they live in may never change