Long Reach Poems
Long Reach Poems. Below are the most popular long Reach by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reach poems by poem length and keyword.
Picture me at ease
Think of me enjoying one last breeze
The characteristics in my personality
so hard to please
Saturday mornings it’s Ric D’s
Another mother
trying to feed her family from her knees
It’s all good in your eyesight
But you and I
were born to stand on the other side of right
And I can’t reach for heaven
For the statistics say I’m only five, seven
I just want you to picture me at ease
Think of me enjoying one last breeze
Fact is after the hugs, kisses, and unfortunate risk
Yes my dreams will shatter
The past is made
yet the future remains a broken pattern
My only token is plastic leather, “Plather”
I’ll be here, therefore and after
Someone to grasp you, embrace your tears
But picture me at ease
Just think of me enjoying one last breeze
And it’s the same depressing song
That keeps us stretching past the wrong
Smiles and guilt trips
cause we are only stressing to live long
Better yet it’s a blessing to rest at home
My can tin’s filled with nothing
My palms is blistered, my misery telling me to toughen
I’m living to die
So I don’t often bother with breathing
Nonsense is adolescents teething
But picture me at ease
Think of me enjoying one last breeze
With an uncertain decision lingering in my mind
In the midst of life's swirling maze
Compelled to take a decision I find
Myself trying to escape the night's gaze.
My mind like a compass, guiding the heart's gentle voice
The heart whispers softly, pointing its course with pain
Embracing it without any choice
As I navigate my sail of life like a captain .
Crippled by the fears of choosing the wrong
Whether we leave the past or let it linger behind
The choice has frightened me for long
For recalling the Yesterdays will make the Tomorrows hard to find
Imperfections are meant to be embraced
As nothing is promised in life except death
Even if the roads to the destination are left untraced
I will reach the end with my courage and faith.
Maybe I can find the path that lies ahead
By taking a step behind.
The canvas of our lives, waiting to be spread.
Painting it with hopes and ambitions that burdened on my mind
The path adorned with flowers strewn
Inviting me with a chorus of whispers, tempting and sweet
Playing the strings of my life a little out of tune
For now I know that temptations make the destinations hard to meet.
From traveling the winding road of uncertainty
Sceptical of choices to make,
To finally showing courage in the face of adversity
I found that the choices were the best I could take.
Hey, Lyric Man
My praise...don’t ban
Cause if you do
I’ll kick your can! ;)
You’re awfully nice
I’ll pay the price
to read your words
not once, but twice
Your thoughts you share
Tempered with care
You sprinkle sugar
Everywhere
You've got the beat
Each rhyme, a treat
I must indulge
a taste, so sweet
With heart and soul
You reach your goal
To make us feel
Complete and whole
So here’s to you
Hope this will do
To let you know
You’re special...too.
Your words: a drug!
So, yes! Feel smug!
with words of mine....
I send... this.....hug!
Eileen Manassian
Echo poem and a small thank you for entering Hot Velvet, a tribute to me, in Silent One's contest. :) You rock, LM!
Give all best while blest, passing the test with God’s zest!!!
Achieve
Believe!
Create
Do great!
Excel
Fight well!
God*… trust
Hope must!
Improve
Just move!
Keep right
Love light!
March on
Now yon!
Own work
Plus perk!
Quell doubt
Reach out!
Up glory’s crest, fight pride’s pest, share blessings with the rest!!!
*Proverbs 16:20 He that handleth a matter wisely shall find good:
and whoso trusteth in the Lord, happy is he.
January 25, 2024
4th place, "DARK Nursery Rhyme A-N-D Eye Rhyme" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest; Sponsored by Hilo Poet; judged on 3/2/2024
the Covid 19 pandemic has changed
the entire world ... and me personally
I am a different person now
have found a serenity and tranquility
I never had
with such depth and feeling
and weep for those who have died
and those struggling to live
~ I can find a stillness and beauty in small things
and I am able to forgive and reach out with peace and love
able to look inward ... and I like the new me~
in our third lockdown here and it is strict
we are told to stay home .. our borders are closed
but I have found joy in on-line shopping and zoom visiting
and I may never have to go out again ...
but as a former nurse I needed a routine
to follow ...
~ I have a time for writing poetry and a time for art
a time to read and a time for research
I have a time to ponder and a time to journal ... ~
my nest has never been so clean and tidy
oh yes, I have a routine in place for that too
I tend to dust a lot ... and talk to plants
have been looking at Mom's old cookbooks
found some great recipes to try
have decluttered my closets ... and my mind
and thank God for my sweet cat to snuggle up with
~ I have been an introvert all my life
always seeking silence- a need
like breathing air ... now, I let it wrap me in silent wings
after this pandemic quietude ... the butterfly in me
... will emerge ~
___________________
May 11, 2021
Poetry/Free Verse/looking inward
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1353-966-11
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Your
Philosophy During This Pandemic
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judged 05/14/2021
First Place
The world below is a tangle of green and gray,
Where the two rivers meet in a braided, liquid knot,
Their voices a low, distant hum that fades away
As I leave the soft earth for the wild, forgotten plot.
There is no path here, no boot-worn ribbon of dust,
Only the moss-heavy logs that I step across,
Sinking into the damp, decaying crust,
Where time is measured in layers of velvet moss.
Higher now, where the timber begins to thin,
And the alpine line draws a boundary of bone,
Where the breath grows shallow and cold begins to win,
And the world is composed of nothing but wind and stone.
The granite peaks, they carry the weight of ages,
Weathered into faces, etched by the frost and the glare—
Old, silent watchers, turning their stony pages,
Staring into the void of the thinning air.
A Clark’s nutcracker spirals, a flash of white and black,
Its harsh, raspy kree-aaaa echoing off the wall,
While a mountain chickadee, fearless on its track,
Sings a thin, sweet dee-dee-dee that seems so small.
The wind is a ghost that whistles through the scree,
A sharp, biting breath that smells of the coming snow;
It carries the secrets of places that never were free,
And the silence that only the highest summits know.
My lungs are a furnace, my legs are heavy as lead,
But the summit beckons, a crown of jagged light,
Where the clouds are snagged on the peaks like cotton thread,
And the world drops away in a dizzying, beautiful flight.
I scramble the final ridge, a desperate, reaching hand,
Until the ground levels out—the pinnacle, the goal—
The vast, sprawling ache of the wild and ancient land,
Reflecting the quiet, final truth of a searching soul.
This was the climb that defined the map of my days,
The summit I whispered to in the dark of a younger night;
Now I stand in the stillness, lost in the sun’s gold haze,
Caught in the reach of the peak, and the blinding white.
When your baby leaves home you are either overjoyed or sad.
I was overjoyed, until I could not reach her on her phone for days,
and then a week, and then ten days.
Her roommate said her stuff was there, but
“I never see her.”
I asked if she could tell whether or not she had been there recently,
and she told me that she could not.
These were pre-texting days. My helpless eighteen-year-old daughter
was four hours away from home, at a college she had chosen. I was worried,
so I called everybody including the phone company down there. I asked everyone to put
a note on her dorm door, telling her to call her mother.
We got a call that night from an angry daughter who said this
to her dad, “What does Mom want?”
She was embarrassed and irritated that six people had yelled at her to call her
mother, and there were two notes stuck to her door that
said ‘call your mother’ - one from the phone company.
Six people who cared. Six strangers I do not know. Six angels.
I wondered which four did not step up.
Season of hope, season of peace,
Season of light, season of faith…
As the new comes to hearts,
washing away the darkness of winter’s haunting,
Feelings bleed in pastel hues – glowing sunlight,
whispering new life,
Eternity’s joy rising from the softest flow of a sunrise,
startling the spirit,
Stirring up the brilliance in glorious promises,
amazed by the gentle
Who prays for endless trembling,
urging the past to wait in the shadows,
As our hearts remember
the beautiful that kindles so many feelings,
Feelings…
Bleeding through the misty mourning,
the winter’s haunting, soothing
Away the embers of longing,
melancholic and mysterious, like a yearning
For the trembling laughter of spring’s overflowing,
In rhythms so powerful
it feels like I know them, their brand of courage,
Their hope and their vibrant lives,
appealing to the softest places inside,
Where only the reflections of starry eyed dreams,
await the caress,
Kisses like a make believe,
feelings so blessed,
Despairing of regret, never without grace –
grateful to the ways…
Feelings…
Bleed music through the veins,
preventing faith from ending,
The sweetness of praise, hesitant and reckless …
swift as the shadow,
Who complains of never being able to last,
never being fast,
Enough to reach beyond the steady pace
and into the everlasting,
Windows where silhouettes
seem to survive the spring showers,
The flowers and hours of dreamy memories,
Evoking… feelings…
Bleeding light across the hazy dawn, laughing so that solace,
Can find her way home, promising new life,
In every thought, every hope, every insight – in vivid shades,
Visions like a hunger that agrees, wherever we are, whatever our need,
When we feel the music of spring’s logic, melting away each care,
We know what it is to feel young again, like a hesitant affection,
Who knows… these feelings,
Bleeding through our smiles, freeing the prisoner,
From chains of winter’s dark, chains of poverty and grief,
Chains made from doubts, fears and disbelief.
Feelings, lingering in the heart – promising the soul,
Forevermore, there will be hope – hope that comes to those,
Who meet spring’s gaze, with a light that sings praise!
It’s amazing how a simple glass of wine,
Can unleash a hidden thought or meaning
You’d think as much as I’ve consumed in life,
I would have a tome that’s gleaming
Full of wise, sagacious oratory
Of thoughts that help the mind
But maybe it’s all piffle, of the wrong kind
You see it’s a very simple thing,
If you’re a writer from the heart
It doesn’t matter how or if you cloud it,
It may someday become someone’s art
God has provided us one of many bounties, the grape
That sometimes helps unleash the sometimes hidden shape
Of some very blessed minds from the most blessed of us all
It may be a way to help reach our true selves, or sometimes break through a wall
So now that I’ve made this potentially absurd assertion
It’s time to prove the theory, with some not so perfect allocution
Of some wise, thoughtful insight into a single glass of wine
For without passion and effort in the making
It may not enable the divine
So maybe try a glass of the fermented grape
When next you feel the block of the writer,
And when others read your work thereafter,
Things may turn out brighter.
Our Journey
So nonchalant, we strolled upon our trail,
together in our rendezvous with life,
not knowing what our journey would entail
to reach our goals...precarious, or rife.
Our gallivanting led to places grand,
and with finesse, we blended our unique
ways to combine our special pathways planned...
still heading to our marriage mountain peak.
How long our trail, that seems like yesterday
we started, hand in hand, to walk our miles;
meet goals, yet acquiesce that, come what may,
with ecstasy or sadness, firm our smiles.
And now, six decades later, we are blessed...
still on our path...we travel to the crest.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: Your Best Sonnet 2018
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Judged: 07/08/2018
Required words used for the previous contest in order of appearance:
nonchalant rendezvous precarious gallivanting
finesse unique acquiesce ecstasy