Long Red sky at night Poems
Long Red sky at night Poems. Below are the most popular long Red sky at night by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Red sky at night poems by poem length and keyword.
Morning is but the infant day
Born of the womb of time.
A babe that speaks to those that hear
A language so sublime.
The sky with blood from birth is stained
Foretells of coming rain.
Red sky at night is his delight
At dawn a sad refrain.
That sailor in that ship at sea
That farmer by the brook
They know the signs, they read the sky
Like you or I a book.
While wet or dry this day shall be
Both yours and mine to keep.
Until it's hours reach 24
And then it too shall sleep.
Why gaze we then at painted sky
And dwell upon this thought?
Let's merrily go forth and live
This day that time has wrought
"A crimson sky breaks the distant shore,"
beaming an omen from the opened draw.
Highlighting a warning to fear, abhor?
Or perchance, a delight joyously to adore?
Which way do I look and when, for this brainstorming.
To read the sky bathed in crimson blood swarming?
Looking left at dawn, I get a warning, yawning!
Looking right at dusk, I get delight, informing!
Red sky at night, red sky at dawn,
What lies between, as day is dusted done, then newborn?
For at both birth and death, blood is often shed forlorn,
spreading its crimson veil, upward into the sky to adorn.
What if I'm not a shepherd or a sailor?
But, a land-blubber, or a tinker tailor?
How should I read the sky's loudhailer?
Perhaps I'll sleep, and wait for the trailer!
Did you see My 'Red Sky' at morning?
Listen to the Lord's stern warning!
Is it loving to sidestep My truth,
To judge My words as uncouth?
To bow to the oppressor's greed,
For wont of material need?
While striving for earthly treasure,
Do your scales conceal true measure?
Watchmen are dissuaded to preach
About boundaries not to breach.
What My Spirit strives to restrain,
You cut His restraints to obtain.
It's all lies conceived in the mind,
Groping through life like you're blind.
You're missing My 'Red Sky' at night,
And you wonder what caused the blight.
Remove My rivals from your hearts!
They're not Sovereign, but upstarts.
There's no fear of Me in your eyes,
So you fail to discern My 'Red Sky'.
Return to Me, regain your sight,
For My judgment is now in flight!
Do not neglect 'signs of the times',
Watch for My return - anytime.
For giving My 'Red Sky' at night,
Is always your Savior's delight.
THE TENTH WAVE
The rain drops prick the skin of the sea
Tumble with the urchins in the water,
The black water, so heavy, tired--
Watching it tic tac toe in millions of tiny rings
Tic tac toe, three by three by three
Up until infinity--
As scores of seagulls watched from buoys
Red sky at night, sailor's delight
Isn't that how it goes?
All hands on deck! All hands!
Until then came, out of the night sky, a wind
With the sound and fury of a thousand black horses
Pummeling down on the water, the great, fearsome ocean
And stirring it up like a bowl of soup
All hands!
The great boats all groaned in protest,
Their wet, wooden bellies full
Reeds choking shores uprooted and flew at the storm
The whole world seemed to be feeding the storm,
Which would not be satiated, but howled for more
Chunks of earth, wood, sail, even human souls
Would not appease such an appetite
And then, in the pulse of three hours, a brief
Quiet...
...an aching silence
where the sun deceived them
By shirking off the clouds for a moment
Hear the call of the birds...
Red sky at morning, at morning, at mourning
It was then that the waves began--
Undulating at first, feel the water breathe,
Soon rising, rising, black towers
Into walls of water no one could scale,
Ripping across the top in violent zig-zags
White madness, the open mouth-
-and they came, they came in rows
As tall as nightmares, even hungrier than the wind
And they ate up everything they touched,
Swallowing lives, swallowing that which made them
Pulling our dwarfed armies into the deep, deep
Dark, black salt water
Until then, after the herald, and the birds didn't sing anymore
A tenth wave, which rose colossal over the rest,
Moving like a lost city,
Over the darkness, a shadow covering this world
Silenced what was left to be silenced
Little sailors
Little sailors
All sailor's songs end
And On the Land
Your little wives
Will catch your songs on the wind
Will pick up those songs on the winds
Someone on the TV
told me bright sunshine
red sky at night
the outlook is fine
and the app on my phone
says blue skies are due
but when has the forecast
ever been true
it seems like the Sahara
with no oasis in sight
and just another foolish dream
to see me through the starry night
a voice on the radio
said the storm will disperse
things won't go south
or take a turn for the worse
but it's an ill wind won't blow
all the grey clouds away
no matter what
the weatherman may say
it was an ill wind
blew for you to stray
and it's an ill wind
won't bring you home today
Time and tide again waits for no man
tempest-tossed upon life’s billow
The hull or the dinghy
Serves as a fortress
Though steady on its keel
Knocked his wits and sense
As he vacillates between levity and despair
Caused by his unbridled folly
He rakes the moon from out of the sea
A gust of air blew
It tethered him to flee
All you see is overcast
Knots, tiller, hatch, or helm
Love’s killer patch, overwhelm
Derelict in a sense
A castaway float astray
Break the resolve
Of a man who once vowed
to never sail again
But the songs of the nymphs
Was beckoning him
Is there something alluring
or is he just lonely?
Can't find comfort in the stillness
With every beating on the mast
Fate on the tide
Because not once, not twice
But several times
he almost drowned
He was lost at sea
His curse muffled
No stir in the air
He was peeled
And like the tales of sailormen,
She suddenly appeared
Like white foam
She ribboned the blue sky
The clouds drifts idly
As if they haven’t heard
Not a stirring breeze
But her ravenous rage
Devoured him
With rapacious eagerness
Lapping at his ballast
A violent wind is no match
To a careless sail man
in the middle of a stormy sea
He tasted the saltiness
And remembered the breath of his past
As he found himself washed ashore
He was saved at last
But he was looking for more
Despite the warning from the weather lore
And like the wind,
She whips a howling dance
As sea and sky make love
She could not calm her frenetic ire
It stirred something in him
It hit him like a squall
Once again he takes the plunge
Stupid as he is
To find himself once again
Sailing in the storm
Amidst the tempestuous sea
Evening gray and morning red
He could only wish he was dead.
All hands on deck
And as he chants
Red sky in the morning
Serves as warning
Red sky at night sailors delight
Her crimson lips parted
As she said,
"Evening red and morning gray,
help the traveler on his way.
Evening gray and morning red
bring down my wrath upon his head".
Granny said there’s signs from nature we’ll get,
and it would behoove us not to forget.
You’d best listen when she threw out her words,
because she knew the ways of critters and birds.
She knew how to read the nature she’d see,
more accurate than some guy on TV.
She could tell if it was fixin’ to rain,
if we’d have hard winter or early spring.
Things like how an Ozark persimmon’s seed,
will tell if it’s a snow shovel you’ll need.
When autumn’s squirrels up and disappear,
then old man winter will be coming near.
If the air’s heavy and you’re feeling low,
more than likely a storm’s going to show.
But if the air is crisp and full of light,
then you better be out hunting tonight.
When there’s a misty ring around the moon,
tulips and pimpernel close up their bloom.
If the flowers have cranked up their smell,
rain is on the way is what these foretell.
If a rainbow rises high in the east,
then that means the chance of rain is the least.
But when it shows its face low in the west,
that’s when any chance of rain is the best.
See a Red sky at night, sailors delight,
red sky of morning, sailor take warning.
If the sheep are gathered in a huddle,
then you’ll be stepping into a puddle.
When leaves fall early winter will be mild,
when leaves fall later winter will be wild.
If leaves wither but don’t fall to the ground,
an extra cold winter will hang around.
If roosters start molting before the hen,
can look for a winter that’s mild and thin.
If the hen starts molting before the cock,
then prepare for a freeze hard as a rock.