Long Rain out Poems
Long Rain out Poems. Below are the most popular long Rain out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rain out poems by poem length and keyword.
Let us fellowship
Let us praises rain out praises
Rain down joys
Salutations, glories abundant
Evermore
Let us focus, let us love
Let us fellowship with our God
Glory honor, honor above
Let us praises His presents in love
Rise lets stand coming together;
Rise we are no longer strangers;
Rise let us sing, let us shout Alleluia
Abba, Father
Shout, sing out-Hallelujah
We’re no foreigners we’re but fellow citizens;
Worshipers on this united plain;
And we sing out in holy-glory Hallelujah
Glory
He reigns on me;
He rains in me;
He reigns on me
He rains
He reigns
He reigns on me;
He rains in me;
He reigns on me
He rains
He reigns
Glory, glory,-holy, holy
Glory, glory,-holy, holy
Let all the saints and others out of the household of God
Be present, rise on praise
Praise
Praise His glory forever and always
Glory
He reigns on me;
He rains in me;
He reigns on me
He rains
He reigns
He reigns on me;
He rains in me;
Abba, Father we all…
Shout, sing out-Hallelujah
12/23/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2019
Ephesians 2:19
As the light turned red, she reached for the door handle
About to jumpt out of the car
When all of a sudden
He slammed on the brakes
Reaching passed her,
He pulled the opening door shut.
She felt his weight against her chest
His close proximity unnerved her
And she pressed as far back into her seat as she dared
Hoping to create space, so he wouldn’t sense
The mad pounding of her heart.
“That was not wise,” he said. His voice was not angry, but tired, sad.
“You could have gotten hurt if a motorcyclist was passing by.”
“I’m a big girl,” she shot back hotly. “I think I can handle myself.”
He sighed..
“Listen, whether you like it or not
Or you find my presence repulsive or not,
I promised your brother to get you home safely
And I will honor my word.”
The light changed, and he continued driving,
But not before he said softly, “I’m sorry I reacted strongly.
My wife died in a car crash. It was avoidable.”
She could hear the anguish in his voice
And as she turned to look at him
She noticed that the cloud of memory
Was producing rain out of those sky blue eyes
“I’m...I'm so sorry,” she whispered.
Without even thinking…
She reached across and touched his arm.
He looked at her
His expression pained and yet,
There was a tenderness in his eyes
He seemed to be looking right into her heart
Knowing about her pain
Reading her frustration with disappointed love
But how could he know
“Love like that comes once in a lifetime,” she whispered
Shocked at her impulsiveness
She looked down at her hands
“You are so like her,” his voice was pained.
This was one confession she did not want to hear
Nor would she absolve it.
“You have her spirit: carefree, bold, passionate, full of life, wild, and”…..
He looked straight at her, “amazingly beautiful.”
He pulled into her street and parked the car outside
Her apartment building.
Before she could thank him, he was out of the car.
Coming to her side, he opened the door
Gave her his hand and helped her out.
“This is not necessary, really,” she protested.
“I’m a man of my word. I said I’d see you home safely.
I won’t leave till you are inside.”
Eileen Manassian Ghali
To be continued....
The quiet rain dispelled any thoughts of a rain out.
It was Fenway, it was Father's Day,
And within the sacred realm of wooden bats,
Unswung and dumbly waiting,
There is the halcyon hope of impact
This on our first day of summer
Like the first day with our father
When he slapped us on our day-old baby chests
To keep us alive, keep the beeps beeping,
Forcing life's tiny engine to re-fire,
Making love's literal labor rumble back into place
Like the slamming of the hood of the car or
The smacking of the hanging breaking ball or
The blowing up of balloons, in school, for winter's child
Who needs to see the swelling of life into vivid colors
So that he'll be tempted to speak through the tumors
And show me how even more not-so-small, slow miracles take form,
Like the oldest man on the team,
On the mound, leading the league in wins,
Like my father putting a lunch together,
A salad, asparagus, and sausage in three
Giant containers I could never fit in my work bag
So in a flash he grabs this nifty-sized paper bag out of nowhere,
(the nowhere where the cabinet and the refrigerator is),
That dark and unspeakable vertical slit
Where all things crawl to be forgotten
Except by my dad who hears nothing and attends to everything
Scrambling even now to get a lunch together for his
29-year-old son who slogs eye-blinkingly around the kitchen
As morning-dumb as the day of his arrival
With the first pitch, the first slap, the first symbol of love.
Father's guide us through the passing fog
Like a lighthouse with a hearing problem, on wheels,
Barreling into the future, keeping the ball moving,
Keeping the world working.
The father is our Sun, Summer's Eternal Boy,
Guiding truth (or his version of it) where it need go:
Another Red Sox win,
Another sandwich made,
Another reason to smoke a cigar.
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
As long as you promise to keep swinging
I'll promise to speak up. (And answer my phone.)
RAIN DROPS ON LILAC LIPS
In desolate nook of my barren lawn
drenched by the summer rain out of my sight
a lone plant with thorny branches has grown,
a shy bud between lean leaves sprouts at night.
Crimson petals open with grace at dawn,
the rose sparkling with regal pearls of dew
draws a butterfly in my life so lone.
In my wasteland the flower smiles like you.
The leaves drip drops of drizzle on petals
like your locks lay rain drops on lilac lips.
Your green eyes search me through leaves as night falls,
the color of the rare rose your dream sips.
At the golden sunrise when you come close
I see you are not just any old rose.
August 2, 2018.
Syllable count checked on howmanysyllables.com
They say that the moon can paint a picture of a tomorrow to find,
tinted with feelings and impressions that make rationality blind.
Inherited desire and invisible habits it contains,
challenges and temptations for all it refrains.
When sculpting the shape of precious destiny,
and weaving the forces of dark and light in unity.
Unfolding within the secrets of mystery of all,
new claims of hope is needed for the crystal ball.
Illuminations of expressions is the final ingredient,
for the midnight ocean fare convenient.
The moon then will rain out its silver sphere,
irresistible light beam rendezvous for the nightmare.
Waking or asleep in this subtle mortal sleep deep dream,
flowing in this astral stream, all must deem.
That dream where one can look before and after,
and decides what is not with a laughter.
Making sense out of wondrous madness,
when the queen of night smiles at you with gladness.
For in many eclipses no light will flow,
then every illumination has the sense to grow.
Motions are the sacred force as far space can reach,
the catalyst that triggers the stars in poetic speech.
Scented Leaves
A garden lost, in the footsteps of time,
Beckons from a garden of scented leaves
Remembering perfection in the cool of the evening,
Memories awaking long dormant memories
Now redeemed by scars;
A path that ends in gates reopened
To walk beneath an arch of aromatic wonder
Re-birthing wisps of fragrant balm
Lost in time, long past the birth of light,
To walk in solitude past temptation of fallen brittle leaves
Unscented;
With each day now an echoing paean raised
In one voice without discord
Of roars or snarling fears grabbing space
Or saving daylight demanding domination;
Clarity in naked transparency –
No need to cover original beauty –
Night at one with the daystar
While sun and moon and stars hold hands
To step in neat circles within the celestial perfume of praise
Like a garland of scented leaves woven in this sacred space;
Where summer, fall, winter, spring
Revolve in mystery with not one
Day or drop of rain out of place –
No intrusion of wilting heat or blustering cold,
Work or wrenching pain,
Intrude upon the oneness by wilting petals
That flower above the arbor of scented foliage;
No separation from the original plan,
The hand that drew up from the chaos
This design in the rich bouquet of creation
Turns back to be entwined again
In the fragrance of a perfect smile floating like flora before eyes reopened -
A signature written in a perfumed garden -
One heartbeat beating in perfect synchronicity
With hearts reunited in the evening breeze
Not lost like a snowflake on a summer highway –
A teardrop in sea of sand –
Eternal covenant,
Love and passion waking in one body -
Intimacy among the scented leaves.
Date – November 14, 2019
Contest – Scented Leaves
Sponsor – Kim Rodrigues