Long Queenly Poems
Long Queenly Poems. Below are the most popular long Queenly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Queenly poems by poem length and keyword.
Have you been in touch with the peddler turtle? He said.
Green one who sings to himself and dances? Asked Jed.
Hoot owl nodded “That’s the guy, he is really something.”
His items are unique, some of them sing and ring a ling.
He has a dancing clock that will fall off the shelf on the hour.
Bouquets of bright flowers that would dazzle a queenly bower.
Kitchen tools that would spin you around and say, “how do you do.”
You really need to take a peek at his stuff, one-of-a-kind too.
I followed the peddler turtle from town to town.
never saw a fit, a stomp, a stamp or a frown.
He had the best disposition, this peddler turtle.
Smiling as wide as my light-brained cousin Myrtle.
His wares were wonderful, whacky and wildly whimsical too.
He could dance a ballet, a tango, and a turtle soft shoe.
We liked everything about peddler turtle, he was ever so keen.
We all agreed at his funeral, no one ever saw him turn mean.
What if I can see it, smell it, almost touch it,
That gilded throne where I will proudly sit,
Would people think me mad,
Is my ambition so preposterous and bad.
And why not me, have I not earned this crown,
Someone not worthy of that queenly gown,
Bejeweled and composed for all to see,
My vassals all around, bowing deep to me.
Naysayers bleat I'm just an empty ship,
With lights and streamers pretending to be hip,
Without a cargo or destination clear,
Sailing in circles relying on the wind to steer.
But if we're given to analogies, what if I were a Trojan horse,
With clear intent and undisputed course,
Where guile and purpose rule the day,
The aim to soundly win not merely one to play.
Demean and underrate me at your peril,
I can pivot between angel and pure devil,
While my laugh is designed to be disarming,
It masks a side of me considerably less charming.
Everything I've wanted I've achieved,
A trajectory few would have believed,
Do you think I'll stop at this last jump,
And in so doing fully flatten Trump?
If I had a wishing stick I would ask for world peace
The lovely beauty pageant contender said into the mike
Generous generous generous
You are allowed three wishes, the commentator said.
Oh, great! She said. World peace, and I want the unicorns to be freed.
Smart too right?
“Three wishes,” The commentator said while the crowd looked on.
“And I wish the dragons would stop flying and killing people,” she said sagely.
Wow! I began to laugh. The commentator looked stunned and stumped.
She gave her queenly smile and a wave, and trotted back
to her seat in her bathing suit.
Yes, bathing suits are important too in a beauty pageant.
There were four additional finalists. Three said world peace.
Each time they said “world peace” the audience clapped as if they were on fire.
I kept rolling my eyes.
I am wearing a comfortable mumu today. It is ninety outside.
“What would your three wishes be?” The commentator asked.
“I wish to be selfish, to be left alone,
and to have my hair grow out in rainbow colors.”
The audience’s clapping was thunderous.
She was crowned almost instantly.
We are all tired of people lying about wanting world peace I guess.
And who the heck
Does not want their hair to grow out in rainbow colors?
Already the leaves are staining red,
Blood, too thin, seeps through taut skin,
Capillaries weak walled and weeping;
Dying Summer bows proud head,
Emptied of green glory;
Filled, fiery cauldrons blaze red-orange,
Golden flamed tongues glowing.
How harsh that she must fly
Into the great beyond,
Jettisoned like a human soul
Killed before its time.
Letting go, whether fast or slow,
Makes no variance in the pain;
Numbingly, it strikes the heart
Over and over again.
Passionate, she would linger,
Queenly in her floral gown,
Regaled for stunning splendor;
Sympathy never his approach,
Time beats a strong percussive stroke
Unstoppable, dispensed in quick cadence.
Valiantly she struggles, clinging,
While wild winds hew each leaf down;
Xylogenous lichen sparsely veils
Yearning limbs laid vulnerable and bare:
Zephyrus and Chloris frolic there no more.
Note: Zephyrus, the gentle god and personification
of the west wind, the bringer of light spring and
summer breezes in Greek mythology; he abducted
and fathered children with the goddess Chloris and
gave her the domain of flowers.
Xylogenous - living on or in wood
Copyright, August 15, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Inside its antique walls, the Sheldon theatre with images of angels upon its ceiling, remind me to seek what is above.
As I climb its historic staircase, looking out into its beauty, if only these walls could speak, unbeknownst do they know, their about to be touched immensely by a very angelic father daughter duet.
If only for one night, we shall leave life behind, to be healed, if “we can believe “ we shall now our heads as if to say “A Prayer” .
Lord Heavenly Father, Please Bless Mat $ savanna as they prepare to sing their souls into our hearts, help them yesterday feel our Love, we’ve all come from near and far.
As the lights go down, they step out onto the stage, They step into the glowing light,
And shadows of the day take flight.
The heavy weight of worry—gone,
Replaced by hope’s melodic dawn.
A father’s voice, both kind and deep,
For those with weary souls to keep.
Then Savanna, with a queenly grace,
Reflects the light of a higher place.
As she sought him, we seek above,
For Heavenly peace and Father’s love.
His soulful eyes, his friendly smile,
Hold my gaze for a little while.
The world is loud, the world is gray,
But here, the stress has slipped away.
For one brief breath, the air is clear,
And Heaven feels a little near.
This theatre is a Holy Place,
Where music meets us face to face.
We look back now, through six long years,
To a world shut down by silent fears.
When walls were high and doors were barred,
And every soul was battle-scarred,
We sought a bridge, a hand to hold,
A story that was yet untold.
Two voices rose to fill the void,
A hope that couldn’t be destroyed.
A daughter’s grace, a father’s hand,
Reached out across a lonely land.
We stood with candles, cold and dim,
Until the light flowed out from them.
A million flames from one small spark,
To chase the shadows from the dark.
Two voices, one heart, bridging the space,
Hope and harmony in this quiet place.
A Dad’s kind strength, a daughter’s pure tone,
Turning a stage into a warm, happy home. As they gather as one to sing us a goodbye of “The Prayer, we have become a Family, whose candles are shining BRIGHTER as we lift them up to mat and savanna, we say thank you fir leaving a handprint on our SOULS, we love you both.
Let not the cares of everydayness
Deface the your fair mien with woes,
Your beauty shall outlive the throes
Of scarcity and momentary anguish.
The gold of your uncommon features
Wins you a thousand bright tomorrows.
Set your present struggles against your looks
And you win the clash and forget the sorrows.
From far men shall place their shingle at your feet
Hoping to purchase choice gold with passing sand.
Be not thoughtless to barter your queenly worth
For the valueless gravel of the worthless land.
Who at a loss ever sold their merchandise?
They have honed their scam on charming girls
With the spare of their ill-amassed grit,
Their aim to vanish with their divine pearls.
Dainty as a maiden embellished in deep violet,
She flutters through grassland, emitting a tangy perfume
And her bodice, luscious, drifts on an organza garment
That reflects queenly admiration from a sunlight blessed:
How butterflies wheel around this goddess’s appointed space
Cruising, parading to endow their dear noblest regard,
Till she blushes in a dance to a crowd gasping aloud
To applaud her womanly entrance, her spring's majesty!
Personification Of A Plant Contest by Kim Rodrigues
.....................
*A purple iris symbolizes wisdom and compliments
* words ' goddess's' and 'luscious' have 2 syl count
via howmanysyllables.com 9/20/2017
Beauty Pageant
Naked as a vintage grape is Vasalina Virginitita
Glowing oily in a noon day Sunday smile
A Spanish flower power child in full bloom
On display outside she wears no shoes or clothes
Pure thoughts fill her vacuous minds emptiness
Stripped of meaning walking queenly as she goes
Almost serenely collegiate with an air of confidence
Discretely open, side by side with her narrow thoughts
As narrow as the cobblestone streets she walks on
On campus and later into the hearts of fans and judges
Who grade her on the scale as a perfect 8
Beauty contests start this way
Separate the pretty from the ugly ones
For gifts and fame so she states abruptly
Step aside my ugly friends and followers
Vasalina must claim her prize
By virtue of being pretty since you are not
A child of the Living King
A tune of praise she'll often sing
Her cup filled with the Living Water
She shares with all,
She's the King's daughter
Dancing from poem to poem,
Like a butterfly serenely
The poetess Regina
Humble, yet so queenly
A child of the Living King
A tune of praise she'll often sing
A lilt of joy within her praises
She shares with all,
His banner raises
Pouring gently from her flow
Of beauty that we always know
Flows genuinely from her soul
Serving Him, her upward goal
A child of the Living King
A tune of praise she'll often sing
Lifting hearts, we sense a smile
That shines out as we read awhile
River flowing poem by poem,
His kingdom vast, her heart His home
Sharing joy, faith, hope and peace
Her lovely writings do not cease
A child of the Living King
A tune of praise she'll often sing
To read her poems, is; o' my gosh
We love Regina McIntosh!
Posted June 15th 2021
A sanctuary waits for me
Beside a woodland stream;
Creatures chatter, beast and bird,
Dithering among the trees,
Engaged in nature’s repartee.
Fungi, moss, and flower
Gather in this shady, holy space,
Habitat of happy innocence,
Idyllic, secret forest glade.
Just let me linger in the quiet,
Kneel beneath the trees,
Listen to the lessons
Majestic nature speaks to me.
Noble trunks stretch upward,
Outward toward the sky,
Praising arms, uplifted, robed in
Queenly dress of leafy light.
Restorative peacefulness
Sweeps in sweet release,
Time’s tenacious grip relaxing,
Undisturbed, worldly discords cease.
Visitant I am within this wood,
Wistful, earthbound worshipper,
Xenophile, lover of heaven,
Yearning to go home.
Zion calls from where I bow.
May 22, 2022