Long Quire Poems
Long Quire Poems. Below are the most popular long Quire by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quire poems by poem length and keyword.
What natural
Is, tell!
The hawk in tabloid swoop did boast –
Whose sweetened-toil doth but
Stink, becometh it
A merry-menu nutriment.
The floods and the woods
Of their own stead in silent-words
– As a sentry –
Sendeth but a sober plea of a loyal peasantry
O, Nature! Creator! – all alludeth in an apogee
To Thy apanage and earnestly giveth plaudit unto Thee.
The swallow withal doth cheerfully
Gather and spin the straw ready to build wholly
Her empire of great tutelage;
And with her brethren bridally liveth in that age
Of diligent generation, in Thee fully hid
And given to lead like a kid.
What is more natured
Than a frog or toad in water plodded and nurtured?
His severe and heedless howl showeth his joy
To tell that: silent in a grave he shalt be a toy!
And the squirrel the jungle quire bustleth from
Tree to tree defiant of mortal wisdom.
A colossal splendour standeth
Thine sun, whose domain the day standeth;
Withal the moon’s comity: Thou, to her appal,
Bestoweth Thine night colonel –
Both but enlisteth in Thine countless soldiers of stars
Thine extol they effuseth like showers.
No less for praise, joineth the beasts –
In the homes so in the forests!
At peace in war as an influenza, Thine honours –
Man, Thine effigy, intellect and genius, in his hours
Extendeth through the gross of polity
Concurring with each command of Thine policy.
O, the fish speaketh of Thine glory, ingenious!
This inferred from a noisy-silence of her fins;
For she scorneth the indigent effort
Of the fisher whose labour won doth him hurt;
Yet, both creatures in many a varied way
Inditeth for posterity great praises that for Thee doth stay.
Yes, the clouds and the firmaments
Oceans, rivers, seas: all waters in constant movements
Doth in harmony with man and beasts
Arrayed in silent-noisy feasts
Shower in mysterious mirth
Thine glory from endless history and myth.
Yet, I behold the ineffable work bestowed on me;
My limbs, they moveth to second Thine decree!
My eyes, no exception indeed
To the law of my being, so splendid
Are those commands for me safely to live
Tho’ many infamous beings abound to strive!
Form:
It was the night before Christmas, and I couldn't sleep,
I got out of bed without so much as a peep.
And headed to the kitchen for something to eat,
buck naked, except for the slippers on my feet.
I didn't dare turn on the nightlight and wake my wife,
for the last time I did that, she threatened my life.
The house was dead quiet; I could not hear a sound
as I ventured downstairs, feeling my way around.
I got to the living room, stumbling a few times,
then I heard music that sounded like Christmas chimes.
So, I went to the window and pulled back the drapes,
thinking the neighbors were playing some Christmas tapes.
I forgot I was as naked as a jaybird;
till I heard the loudest scream I had ever heard.
The church quire was midnight-caroling on my lawn,
and in plain view, I stood bare-assed, not a stitch on.
Judging by the faces I saw scrambling to leave,
I don't think they'll ever forget this Christmas Eve.
It was never my intent to flash anyone,
I simply wanted a ham and cheese on a bun.
It was called Lantern tower up a winding staircase you go to reach the highest spot
when it came to erecting the York Minster Cathedral I believe they gave it all of they got
Northern Europe's largest consecrated Medieval Gothic space, York Minster was a vision
surpassed only by Chartres Loire region of France but for Harry, there is only one creation
This sacred devotional Kingdom was completed in 1472, with eight pressed leaves of quire
275 steps to the top of a central tower, a Godly place built for soulful prayer sure to inspire
Then one day a lightening bolt hit the church and set it on fire destroying this Sacred place
this beautiful gathering place built in memory of St. Peter was destroyed as fire laced...
St Peter was known as protector of fishermen, and "Christ" was one of them who knew,
He is named the Saint of “keys of heaven,” and so he's also patron Saint of locksmiths too
so when I heard that this beautiful establishment had lost its roof, it was a sad reflection
though it was rebuilt using traditional materials from experts in Medieval reconstruction
Like Notre Dame the minster has a famous Rose Window - a stained glass masterpiece
which looks over the center of York, it is now a beautiful place with a bran new lease
The Minster has been at the center of Christianity in the north of England for centuries
so the fire of 84 is now just a memory, we can again return there with ease
Authors Note: Faith, the one thing in life that can't be robbed or taken.
Wear religion round your belt and spirituality like a gown of light.
Let it spread to all those who need it most. Share the love, give it to
the weary so they can have a place to dock.
You can easily raise your vocabulary
by using words that are seldom heard.
Such as Quire,Nudistertian, Agastopia
which I believe sound quite absurd.
But words should just flow naturally
from your thoughts and all you see.
A poem of love from your heart
there's no need for an English degree.
Therefore I won't be wrecking my brain
searching for words to fit in line.
I have no need for a dictionary
I'm just happy when my poems rhyme.
Yes! the poems that I love
are short and sweet but full of meaning.
So please judge me on this ending
not those obscure words at the beginning.
Pitter patter …pitter patter the glorious sound of the rain drops spatter.
The earth rejoices, the trees dance to the rhythm of pitter… Patter, you can see the smiling face of the white lilies by the river side singing and shouting…ho …what a beautiful quire … pitter… patter …pitter ... patter of the rain drops
The grass shouts hallelujah…hallelujah… ho, what a celebration the dry times are over the green lands are back again
It’s a picturesque view when the land turns from brown to green the mountains come alive clapping its hands joining the jubilation of the pitter …patter …beat.
The winds mixed with rain, magic to the ear. The land sings to the tempo of pitter …patte
We must all revel in this moment when nature comes to life, the beautiful sounds of …pitter …patter.
Lacking
Lacking eloquence
Lector lacking
Bullfrogs and lemmings crooning
In the swamp of dim intellect
Spewing their haughtiness
Through their noses the spittle drops
Collecting in murky waters
Their stagnation hiding within their bubble of hate
When the swamp dries lest it be said
No one will be opening heavens gate
One can not persuade a mind painted in black
They the commoners’ collect like old dishes
On a dirty rack
Should the Cellarer ever turn his back
Plato’s will attack in their packs
Airs of allusive elegance
Slipping away into the darkness
Of extinction
For those with black hearts and feeble minds
They shall never see the ends of times
Only when the white rose comes to full bloom
Shall the meek and kind find their true home
They shall be with angels above
As those assemble in the quire
Songs melodic under the arch
Brothers plotting after songs depart
Time eternal yet as always coward’s preach
Solace coming from wisdom's speak
Their persuasion lacking sincere tone
As the sinners lay underneath cold stone
Awakened through the morning sun
facing the unknowns of the day,
the night of rest now is done,
as I struggle to find my way,
Engaging in what I think is right,
in a lonelv world of sorrow and pain
often leads to a deadly, sordid fight,
when the dust settles there is no gain.
Precious moments of lingering thought
hearts become wrapped in heaven's love
true treasures that can never be bought,
a beautiful gift from the Savior above.
To light a world, beneath the sky of blue,
courage and peace spilled upon the ground,
the essence of Jesus I know.
ever so true, brings on a night quire sound.
Debbie's Jesus or Mary For Easter Contest
by nette onclaud