Long Prospered Poems
Long Prospered Poems. Below are the most popular long Prospered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Prospered poems by poem length and keyword.
Africa my Africa; of resources rich.
Aggressively wooed because her potentials enrich.
Africa the bride, historically bid for.
The continent dark with opulent fields to explore.
Your labour past prospered farmers of the Occident.
Your hidden value takes the gaze of the Orient.
Not even the world's giants can your 'dwarfness' ignore,
as they compete for potentials concealed therein.
You seek for succour but your abundance lies herein.
Your pleasant shores will no more the brain drain witness.
Your lush green will spring forth from your feigned wilderness.
Africa my home will her charming beauty unveil.
No more will your poverty stricken let out a wail.
Once upon along ago
Pioneers sailed over ocean flows
To start anew in a different world
Where centuries later new flags unfurled
The above appears reasonable to me
But it's the happenings to the Apache and Cree
The Westward Movement was inevitable
Murderous chaos as the indigenous fell
It's so easy to sit now and look back at the past
Where our ancestors prospered, whilst theirs didn't last
Do we look on in pride at our family tree
Never caring to the think about the Cree, Apache
Borders will fall as others will be encroached
Lands will be taken or politically poached
The Westward Movement are white mans words
But for gunfire and greed, they may never have been heard
Gaia, the favourite Empress of the Emperor Sun,
The true definition of beauty,
Elevated above all else, none other could compare,
She wore a crown that placed her beyond others,
Richer than all her compeers,
Only she had the power to give life,
So fertile that everything she touched prospered,
But she let this get to her head,
So she turned away from the Sun,
They say pride comes before a fall,
And surely she was, proud as a peacock,
So darkness befell her glorious face,
Plagues, famine, drought, and wildfires disfigured her skin,
And slowly, she began to lose her most prised possession,
The gift of life,
This brought her to her knees,
So she embarked on a journey, her very own Odyssey,
This was not a revolution,
This was a path to redemption,
This was the path of restoration,
So she prostrated herself with frustration,
She wept and begged for mercy, for forgiveness,
And the Sun heard her lamentations,
And she found favour in His eyes,
And it forever shall be remembered,
That the merciful King heard the cry of His beloved and answered.
The branching trees stand proud in the evergreen forest
On the verdant canopy clouds come from the sky to rest.
After the dust is washed by the night rains of monsoon
Moist leaves get luster from the morning sunrays soon.
Like forest humanity flourished in clustered population
Vibrantly nurturing the ethos of its assorted civilization.
People prospered sharing the earth’s common resources
Developed kinship and trust as parts of survival process.
If the rains don’t come for some years as they should
The forest soil dries, and the trees soon become wood.
Hit so hard by the current of trying times people are busy
To find means to merely survive for life is no longer easy.
Ground of humane feeling called kindness is drying up fast
The moisture of empathy in desiccated hearts doesn’t last.
Life has turned now into stagnant river, it doesn’t flow free
In the ravaged forest people turn rootless defoliated trees.
In my long journey across life’s landscape where I’ve grown
I find time has carved out new contours on the faces known.
In maelstrom of turbulent times emotions sink, don’t ripple
Within abyss humanity makes a museum of wooden people.
July 27, 2021
Contrst : An Interesting Couplet
Sponsor : Funom Makama
The mighty Elm said to the Vine,
“On me you may climb, to reach out for the sun.”
Ivy was not shy, for she had her reasons why,
So replied to the Elm, “only if you don’t mind?”
The Elm being proud, looked Ivy in the eye,
“I see no reason why we both cannot survive?”
So Ivy held on tight and prospered in the light.
So much so she could not let go.
After many happy years, the Elm began to creak,
Ivy had grown and grown,
So much so the Elm was barely known.
Finally the Elm did die, suffocated from the sky,
With Ivy still around, it stood no longer in the ground.
Bringing Ivy right along, now both had finally gone.
I am an active roosting red robin
I wonder? through secluded trees and dense vegetation
I hear waving blades of grass
I see the spiraling sunshine combining dew raindrops
I want to defend my breeding land
I am an active roosting red robin
I pretend fly away pass the third heaven
I feel most active during the day
I touch a song beautifully I chirp, I sing
I worry whom rides the skies on wing steed
I cry a silent song onslaught winter whelm
I am an active roosting red robin
I understand often I'm among the first songbirds singing as dawn rises
I say discrete units, often repeated, pauses and spliced together chirps tweets
I dream of universal peace and harmony
I try singing as dawn rises before, and last as evening sets in
I hope for joy fulfillment peace prospered like the sparrow
I fly among where angels dwells
I sing a song beautifully I chirp along Chirp Tweet
I am an active roosting red robin
7/24/20
3rd Place~Placement in Contest
I am a Bird - Personification Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Personification poetry form only.
Knock me down with a feather and blow me away with a breeze. Have me crash me back down again to surrender on my knees.
Hold a torch to tinder, raze me to the ground. Make sure nothing is left to remind you;no memories around.
Like the light at sunset and the same again at it's rise, a fleeting beauty to behold and see with your own eyes.
Make a snap decision and act on impulse alone to show the ways I have prospered and the ways in which I've grown.
Regain composure and strengthen my soul for the fight I havent yet led. I build my fears, my hopes and dreams and live them in my head.
But the most important thing of all to remember in times of strife is that people are there to help you through the rocky journey of life.
Form:
The president’s bombing kids again.
Blood on the ground, ash in the air,
schools and playgrounds destroyed the same.
And I’m sitting in my ing rose garden,
silk garments pristine and
picking past the petals stained red,
nose clogged with the scent of flowers in the air
and not those that lie mangled,
torn to pieces,
eternally tormented on the ground.
What a privilege it is to be removed,
to have my head buried in this American soil,
ears chock-full of it so the only sounds
that bypass my earthen defenses
are high-pitched laughter
and commands to bend low
under the current state of affairs.
And bend low I do,
down to the bushes that haven’t been maimed,
the stems of elderly jade
that prospered by disturbing no one
and instead shining with untouched beauty.
My heart turns to stone with every headline,
that same jade replacing vein after vein.
Soon enough I’ll be a statue of enchanting green,
dazzling in the sun,
mouth open too late in a silenced cry
in my own damn rose garden.
Downtown Dayton cityscape
can be seen clearly (on a clear day)
from the grassy knoll on top
of the Woodlands cemetery.
Most of the more fancy mausoleums
face any other way though,
as if the successfully dead
had prospered and were now
disinterested in local legends.
The bones of great men and women
are restless here however,
they turn over the decades,
pull time over their skulls
like overly stuffed quilts.
They won't look now
at that once prosperous and inventive city
they are done with fame
but on a clear night
the city lights illumine
their sad spirits
as they dream of the degradation
of their once industrious history,
watch the unfolding decay of their works
one dirty, burned-out city block
at a time.
Abiding in God’s love, I abound in His grace
Blessed with His salvation of eternal life’s rays
I live for the Lord in His might thru all my days.
Guided by the Holy Spirit for righteous ways
Assured am I to triumph in my Christian race.
Illumined thru His Word along faith-ushered pace
Led by His truth, I’m prospered* upon service-base.
Quest for His favor, I do with His sovereign mace
Upheld against deceitful yeas or scheming nays
Imparted with divine nature of holy brace.
Zealously, He meets my needs devoid of delays
Offering sweet fellowships where I seek His face...
Now and forever, I thank Him with wondrous praise.
III John 2 Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.
Acrostic with monorhyme
October 17, 2018
Happy Birthday, Abi. It’s my prayer that the Lord will continually bless you as you live for Him.