Long Rareness Poems
Long Rareness Poems. Below are the most popular long Rareness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rareness poems by poem length and keyword.
Expectedly it came and she knew it
Those sleepless and there were many of those
The rareness of bonding session with her ,my mother
The multitasking of motherhood
The goal had to be achieved at all cost
The determination that was displayed
The support that was given for a remarkable woman
The days, months ,years of hard work finally paid off
The honouring of a family name
And she had done exactly that
We had planned it well to the last detail
So many things to do and so little time
It was a surprise all right
My big sister Ruth had to come down from Cape Town
Who else was going to execute this plan, if she is not here
And besides it was her speciality
We had to thread carefully, no loop holes were allowed
To be discreet was the middle word
To be thankful was part of her nature, my mother
And she deserved exactly that
The creativity was in the atmosphere
As the decorations were awesome
Yeah, it was no child play
The smell from the kitchen, made the mouth watering
Left the tummy to make funny noises
The ladies had done a great job
Yep, the champagne and the wine, all the goodies
The weather was just a blessing
And the outfit was a show stopper
Yep, the guests were amazing
In their academic wear, I tell you
Yes, the family had arrived
In their best behaviour, hilarious was the norm for the day
Her close friends,
Whom she had walked with on this journey
Her mother, she was just speechless
Her only husband, he was just too proud of her
And we all knew that
She will be thankful
THANKSGIVING MEMORY POERTY CONTEST
SPONSORED BY REGINA RIDDLE
"In the theory of personality, the conscious mind consists of
everything inside of our awareness. This is the aspect of our
mental processing that we can think and talk about rationally.
Quote by _Sigmund Freud
After birth our bodies are aging,
slowly ... but by forty we notice the changes:
with cells and with bones a war is raging.
We notice that our muscles have less ranges;
we have bothersome metacarpals and phalanges !
Oh, each of us have lived life in chapters.
with ups and downs we are a constant changing book:
experience make us good adapters.
We just float ... flowing along like a forest brook;
and know real truth from just silly gobbledygook !
All through life there is constant awareness,
it ebbs and flows ... changing and we see ourselves:
and hopefully our unique rareness.
Never let your life gather dust like books on shelves,
be aware ... encourage others to help themselves !
To be aware is to know who you are,
your thoughts, dreams, character traits and even your flaws:
oh, be aware of this world ... close and far.
When upset don't get angry and bring out the claws;
be aware, step back, take a breath and a long pause !
___________________
May 10, 2023
Poetry/Quintain (English)/Screen Of Awareness
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1546-378-10
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Screen Of Awareness
sponsor, Unseeking Seeker, Judged 05/26/2023
Eighth Place
CHAPTER SEVEN
this seventh month… a handful of sun dust
greets my aurora skin, touching every
lace of foliage: buttered stems, blushing leaves,
soft-boiled branches with upturned eyes
silky in the veil of July’s palette
face. farther on,
i wanted to smell its rareness,
how my own raw eyes pass behind occasional
veins and wiggling ridges, wondering the
maleness and femaleness of their palms
receding then whirling underneath my
feet ,receiving the ancient chant of some wild
calm…
how intangible this soft fire in
my belly, splattering like auburn harvest
of wheat thrusting unto air
chambers of sun nymphet honored
in all shades---the emerald, garnet,
sapphire of paradise patch as if
saved from the kaleidoscope of month’s past,
slowly cuddling every sinner and lover the ember
that feeds on harps and cancer -zodiac stones.
. . . .
Contest no 300 Premiere
Though this world is dark
With the egotism of man
Everywhere
Throughout the mundane greyness of every day life
There are sparks of beauty
Sparks that give us a view
through the foggy blindedness
Of man's vicious fight for life and recognition
Sparks of every colour
Personality, religion and race
Some are a close part of our lives
But most are strangers
The random chance
The right place at the right time
And the rareness of them
Makes the meeting of a spark
All the more of a priceless treasure
Some have the light of compassion
Some possess great understanding
Others true innocence
Or a gentleness that heals broken people
Some have the ability to judge honestly
And still love you anyway
There are those who use their gift of knowledge
Only for the goodness of others
Those whose calmness
Eases the mighty waves of terror
And those with genuine generosity
Who would give you their last morsel
Some with true empathy
For those who can't get up from the gutter
A random word of kindness
Given when most needed
A friendly smile
That makes you feel like you matter
A helping hand
That pulls you up when you've fallen
So many different sparks of light in a day
So many colours they give us
To chase away the shadows
The smog in our minds
Rainbows that touch us
As we move through time
Lighten the weight on our hearts
And open our eyes to the beauty around
Look for the rainbows and crystals
Colours in our misty lives
Appreciate them
And be grateful for those moments
That we got touched by one
And the world lightened for you
No matter how brief
Or how expansive
Your heart will be softer
Bringing a smile to your face
Which gives light to others
Who can't see in the dark
And you too become one
You spread the light
One of the crystals and rainbows
Brightening up our world
Medusa arrived like most dandelions
All over the place with a bobbly head
She was an anomaly, a work of art.
She exuded a rareness; she was unique.
I watched her fill up the dandelion patch.
She overtook her sisters and brothers.
A giant in their midst, Medusa was a catch.
I lugged strangers into my yard to see her.
She is no dandelion! Some would say.
Then what is she? They would examine her.
Some wanted to take her apart in dissection.
I sent them packing.
I stopped bringing strangers in to peer at her.
I felt I had violated her trust enough already.
The other dandelions started turning.
I photographed proof of Medusa.