Long Refreshing Poems

Long Refreshing Poems. Below are the most popular long Refreshing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Refreshing poems by poem length and keyword.


Welcome To the World of This Certain King

"Bring Me Wine,Myrrh and My Sweetheart Daughter Anabella,
My Little Anabella Loves To Listen To The Voice Of Salome,Her Lyre and Her 
Happy Serenade..
Tell My Scribes To Be Fast About Compiling The Exploits Of Their King In His 
Last Battle Campaign..What Is a King Without An Updated Chronicle..
Send In My Little Prince For His Voice As He Reads Through His Texts Of 
Poetry..Lures The King His Father To a Closer Salient Walk With The gods..
Tell The War Generals To Give Me A detailed Brief of Our Next Campaign.."

At Morn..
"Send In The Finest Of Thy Young Warriors..So I can Test My Stealth In The Very 
Face Of Battle and Danger...
What Have Young Men Turned Themselves into..So Lazy,Wanton and Unmanly..
Off My Sight Before I Seek Thy Skulls This Very Instant..
(In Privacy With The Head Warrior)..Oh! Sarskaas Your Young Boys Are one of the 
Best in The Region My Training Sessions Are Truelly Refreshing..Tell this not to 
them Lest you build the Fruits of Pride and Treachery in their Young Minds..
Do Usher in My Seductive Belles to Show Off Their Waists in Acts of 
Poetry,Dance and Linguistic Body Embellishments..."

At Noon..
"You The Dreaded Most Notorious KING Of the Valley..A Demi god,Invincible and 
Indestructible..As I Speak Kiss The Sole Of My Feet and eat this dish of Camel 
Dung mixed with fine desert sand..
Ax-Man when he finishes his dessert Bring me his Head on My 'Royal Golden 
Skull-Dish'..
Usher in the Wise Men of the South..For I want to converse with them in this 
same spirit of Saliency..
Stuff the roast Calf portions with a lot of herbs and Spices..You well know its the 
Obsession of the Men from The south.."

At Sundown..
"Usher in the different contingents of Musicians to Entertain my Salient Guests...
Wrap My 'Lotus Fumes' Quickly so I can Smoke this Life's Troubles Aways..And 
See Through the One Eye of the gods in Solemnity and Blissful Thinkings,
Head Eunuch Do Send A Servant to The Harem..He Should Tell My Queens to 
get A-Ready For Their Lord is in Good Shape for Royal Rumbles and More..
Oh! My Faithful Knights your War plans were excellent..Go Now Enjoy and Excite 
your souls as much..Retain your honour and have the War at the Back Of your 
Minds..
Depart In Peace..Many A-Waists in The Harem are Restless.. 
I go in to Satisfy My Very Own.."
Welcome Again To The World Of That Certain King..
Form: Ballad


Premium Member They Were Not Grown

*And they came to Elim
where there were twelve springs
and seventy palm trees
and they camped there near the water.*

After the red sea, after the red sea…
departing from its great depths,
leaving the death of Pharaoh’s men,
well-oiled chariots underneath…
     they're all wet. they’re all wet.

Great sound of Israelites.
Commotion of the sights.
Nostrils of the Creator King;
imagination remains.

The kids in awe,
“Did you see that!? I can’t believe
that happened!” their wrist revolutions
left and right, relive the might.
Their kissers - uttersome wind.

Parents hush them. A bit frightened.
Who is this God…they thought they knew.
This really is the God of their ancestors,
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Still…

They arrived at a place of discomfort.
Thirst suffers…tongue and roof parched.
three days in the desert,
they have not found water…constantly
tested - will they believe…will they believe?

But they, not unlike us, love to complain.
When comfort is outside their brain…
they become most forgetful…they rely
upon their senses — we do too!!!

In Shur, grumbling, rumbling of cries,
“What are we to drink?”
Like little children, they didn’t know.
Like little children, they were not grown.

The water they did find, was bitter -
so were they…they missed the whips
of Egypt- at least they’d get their share
of bread and water. God in His mercy
exchanged bitter for sweet, and his sheep

drank until they hurt no more. There God
tested them with these words:

*“If you listen carefully to the voice of the Lord your God
and do what is right in his eyes,
if you pay attention to his commands
and keep all his decrees,
I will not bring on you
any of the diseases I brought on the Egyptians,
for I am the Lord, who heals you.

And they came to Elim
where there were twelve springs
and seventy palm trees
and they camped there near the water.*

9/28/2021
Free verse narrative

*From Exodus 15:22-27 portions directly taken from the NIV
are between asterisks.

Elim is pronounced ay-leem

From Matthew Poole’s commentary:

Palm trees were both pleasant for their shade, and refreshing for their sweet fruit. Thus the Israelites are obliged and encouraged to the obedience commanded, by being put into better circumstances than they were under in their last station.
Form: Narrative

The Union

"The Union" 

You lift me up when I have no strength
When I feel things are too rough
Today tomorrow and forever you go the extra length
Because of you I've been given a chance to be tough
In your arms you show me true love 
As a symbol of security you've become my dove
You've taught me in all things we will cling to hope 
The reason I don't need to get scared when I feel I'm at the end of my rope
In the moments I feel things aren't fair or just
You've taught me to believe in the two of us I must
It's protection and security when we are joined together
That things go from heavy as a rock to light as a feather
You're there through the worst the unsure and the best
And united together we are a force that stands every test
Through every minute hour and second that time seems to stand still and freeze
You make the whispers of the wind give a refreshing calm breeze
I find myself assured that with you as we hold hands we are one like a strong lock
 Your love I know has been my rock
I know time no longer stands still as we become united together as one 
As God our heavenly Father says my children my work has been done 
Joining hand in hand two hearts become one and I proudly say our lives have begun
The race to the finish line we are determined to run 
As the world meets for the first time Mr. and Mrs. McGee
I'm humbled to say that lucky bride will be me 
We will take this world by storm through the example of faith we walk
Through honest communication we glide like the beauty of a hawk 
It's a privilege and a gift to know that you're going to be my husband 
But you're more than just that you're my inspiration 
And as we exchange vows that we've had since our first day together we promise
To be all that each other needs, wants, and ever could dream or imagine
Thanks to hard work discipline and remaining determined 
As our prayers were heard and answered the Lord said we were forever destined 
In honor of all he had in mind for us we will be strong and evolve to make our future ours for the making 
In awe of everything yet to come I promise to give you all I have and all that I am 
Before you God and our family we stand, joined hand in hand 
Celebrating our union today tomorrow and for eternity
Congratulations to husband and wife, we are presented with a bonding kiss
 Mr. and Mrs. John McGee 

I love you John McGee
Form: Rhyme

Rubrikain

Rubrikain!

My chest tightens as I find myself without an umbrella. The wind in my face is refreshing. 

My hands are cold and I'm holding them on my chest as if I'm desperately trying to draw more air into them. 

I feel the rain on my cheek, and I keep my head up, but it's only sprinkling. My backpack is gone;  I was too distracted by my friend's thick voice to pay attention. With each downpour I walk more closely 
with the trees and the rain keeps falling. There's an unearthly glow around me, much like the gash I made in the sky. The air is thick, and my body seems to move in slow motion. I keep getting closer to the storm. 

As I approach the beach I realize I don't have an umbrella, which is okay since I don't have any friends. 

I see the rows of umbrellas attached to random people who are in such a hurry to get where they're going that they don't realize that a hurricane has hit. As I stand next to them I realize how utterly alone I am in my life. I am nothing without you. I feel helpless, like I am in this storm alone. I stand next to you until you finally notice me and look over at me. The rain is falling harder, and I see the ground is beginning to swell. You ask me what I'm doing, but before I can answer you step back and turn your back to me. 

After a few seconds, you turn to me again, but this time your face is tear-stained. You open your arms for a hug, and I walk into them. The world around us, while still extremely wet, stops moving. I'm in your arms as the water floods through our t-shirts and seeps into our skin. It's cold, but we stay in the puddle, arms wrapped around each other, until the storm ends. We break away from the hug and look at each other in the ocean of tears 
that were once covering your face. You smile and lean in to kiss my my forehead. You smile and tell me I should have asked if I could come with you. Your embrace was everything I could ever hope for. There are no other words to describe it.

Oh Rubrikain!  

I kiss your forehead. It's a goodbye kiss. You open your eyes and smile. You make a big gulping noise, and throw yourself into the ocean. The water covers me and I begin to sink with you into the abyss. I hope that you'll find your way back to me. Follow You open your arms for a hug, and I walk into them. 

The world around us, while still extremely wet, I knew .

:: 03.05.2022 ::\

Premium Member Mountain Man

From Chicago to Tampa Bay in a Ford Granada some time in the mid- 70's. Unfortunately, we were not interested in mountains, because we took interstate 75 and drove through Tennessee 'at night'. We felt the elevation but never saw the Smoky Mountains.                                                              

As we proceeded south, our four year old kept asking, "Are we there yet?"                                                          Can you blame her?  We should have had at least one mountain story                                                                   to tell; and why did we not take time to enjoy the healthy smoke?                                                                   We arrived in Tampa by way of mostly 'flat lands'.                                                                                                                                             

On another occasion we drove from northern Mississippi to Atlanta.  While there, we not only viewed, but also trekked until we grew tired.  The visit on 'Stone Mountain' was a good one as we also enjoyed the beautiful water fall.                                                                                           

Fast forward to 1981, and find me driving a '79 chevy chevette from San Francisco to Lake Tahoe.  Oh, what a ride! From just above sea level to over 9,000 feet and the worst head ache of my life.  Our second child who was then four was on board, but he was head ache free. Nice sceneries, and mountains aplenty, but I should have had my head examined; not because                      of the elevation, but because I had the audacity to drive a Chevette.

Later in the early 80's with my entire family on board, I headed up another mountain in Marin County, Ca.  This time there was plenty of room and  power in an 8 cylinder full sized Chevy van. Just beyond the Golden Gate is Mt. Tamalpais, but we never reached the top, because my wife changed her mind.

My most recent mountain experience was a scenic view from a Jumbo Jet.  Returning from a vacation by way of Portland, I had a nice view of *Mt. St. Helen 36 years after the mountain blew its top in 1980. No, that does not make me a 'Mountain Man'; but from where I sit 30 feet above sea level, it is rather refreshing.
08052017PSContest, Mountains, Julie Rodeheaver
*Or Was it Mt. Hood?
Form: Narrative


James Mclain's List Of Top Ten Poet's And Why

?
John Keats - I continue to adore Keats's lush, sensuous language and his odes to beauty, nature, and love, which can deeply resonate with some of my own poetry's yearning and delicacy.

Emily Dickinson - Dickinson's quiet intensity and exploration of death, eternity, and inner life has appeal to my introspective side.
She and I share a fierce independence of spirit and a love for solitude.

Edna St. Vincent Millay - I admire Millay's bold, feminist voice and her exploration of desire and independence.
Millay's mastery of sonnet form and ability to capture the fleetingness of passion has after multiple readings come to resonate with me.

Pablo Neruda - Known for his passionate love poems and deep connection to nature, Neruda has come to enchant me with his visceral imagery and emotional honesty.
His poems about the natural world might feel like kin ship to me, my own.

Mary Oliver - I feel at home in Oliver's reflective, nature-based poetry.
I have come to love Oliver's reverence for the world, finding in it a continuation of her own themes of beauty and spiritual communion with nature.

Sylvia Plath - I would definitely appreciate Plath's courage in delving into the complexities of self, identity, and mental struggle.
While my tone of poetry has now through evolution grown more gentler, I feel a kinship in Plath's exploration of one's inner life.

Rainer Maria Rilke - With his mystical tone and contemplative exploration of love and solitude, Rilke would be a poet that I have come to admire.
His 'Letters to a Young Poet' would also resonate as advice one might give to aspiring poets.

Louise Glück - Known for her somber tone and introspective lyricism, Glück would fascinate me with her exploration of loss, longing, and family dynamics.
I admire Glück's precision and haunting imagery.

Langston Hughes - I would appreciate Hughes's musicality, social consciousness, and exploration of personal and collective identity.
His poems on love, hope, and perseverance would feel to me like hymns of survival and resilience.

Ada Limón - I would likely be drawn to Limón's modern voice and her intimate, conversational style that draws readers into an emotional landscape. Limón's poems of self-acceptance, connection to nature, and resilience would feel like a refreshing evolution of the lyricism that I have come to cherish.

~ (~) ~ ... "barter Nothing; Offering Everything" ... ~ (~) ~

~ (~) About a teaspoon it takes me in the morning-coffee-that-is. (~) ~


~ (~) Cream more, sugar, a little-less, though truly I still do prefer my cup fresh brewed... its 
superb when piping hot you know it sure is tasty. (~) ~ 


~ (~) Searching through those IM's e-mails trickle-trickle-hiss-bubble-pop-pop love-is-groovy 
you bet man red lights hot lights an honor yes-I feel they're all an-honest testament that 
hollowed ground is sacred... . Illuminating one and another their shadows dandling-along-a-
part-of-the-simple-collection-of-rain-puddles offering-their-jest, and from the beginning you-
know-I-believe they all exist as one light dancing together-until the very end. Because as 
they vary; pale shades of poetic Grey, they carry for me of feeling but one of two tones 

jocularity;

bitterness... . (~) ~


~ (~) Intoxicating really the harshness of Winter-fervency-of-Summer sweet rejoinder
cultivation of all our prayers... Spring... ! (~) ~


~ (~) Took a stroll amid the saffron all grown up in the Autumn laying down beside the day 
lilies wisteria grace gently caressing them enchanting... . (~) ~


~ (~) Vibrant I find it all to be so very encouraging. (~) ~


~ (~) Looking now the frost once thick-crisp driveling down beading up upon the many grassy 
shoots tulips lavender flower the mighty pines-now-reflecting-a-dewy-vapor, refreshing to the 
touch, taste; hues of virtue mirroring this, glistening-upholding-all-things, in-their-
timelessness. (~) ~


~ (~) Life evolving hope offers this proposal questions often posed answers granted remain 
open... because I believe peace and freedom this way friend are forever evolving, 

while love all year 'round, it waits... pondering-this; as it deliberates... . (~) ~


~ (~) Like glistening crystal pools of alabaster sands scented-up diaper dusty-talcum baby 
baby powder, funny contentment privy-so-privy I love the way newborns their eyes tend to 
wander as they coo, all jovial, and-warm... surrounding all they know of God themselves in 
the wake of the room... . (~) ~


~ (~) The birth of enlightenment a burst of individuality in every glance; I can't today but 
maybe you, tell me now God is a farce, remaining kindle to the kind-less... 

still the kinder... . (~) ~ 





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcGJb-mPMmg
© James Long  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member For Silent One


My convictions refuse to give any of my poetry’s limelight to horoscopes or the like because these go against my belief in the Son of God, the Word of God and the grace of God. Because I don’t believe in horoscopes, and actually am against them as they are sinful and against God’s instructions, I won’t be using the title chosen by the contest sponsor. I do love Silent One though and will offer my poem as a reflection of that love, even if it is omitted from the contest because of the title. God bless you all.

“We are all petals of imperfection sharing the same sun” - Silent One

Tears fall quietly, 
Remembering the heart’s seasons,
Glistening through the skies,
Like the richest purity,
Twilight bleeding into songs,
Meant to bless, the heal, to say…

Heaven is but moments away,
So we wait, on bended knee,
For the joy that we’ll soon see,
Joy beyond what we might dream,
Joy alive, like the sun’s glow,
Like the moon’s slow climb,
Like the moment He was mine….

Tears kiss my cheek, 
Dewlike and refreshing, aching,
Expressions of faith, hope, love,
The silence of a clear, cool night,
Abiding in the soul who knows,
His love just grows – it grows and grows,
Serene and satisfying, spiritual sanctions,
Erasing the fears, the tears, the years…

Before I was sure that what I am feeling,
When He is with me, when He reveals Himself,
Through the bird’s morning songs,
Through the firefly’s dance in the dark,
Through the effortless music that invites…
Hearts to hear the trees as they talk,
Souls to feel the grace who speaks soft,
Spirits to taste the love that stirs hope…

Tears glisten on my heart, flowing,
As the winds pick up speed, rushing,
Toward the moment when I first believed,
He is the One who made light so I see…
He is the reason for my heart’s peace,
He is the reason for my soul’s devotion,
He is the reason for my spirit’s praise.

Tears never let go of the way they can say…
Though so imperfect, my love – I will pray…
Beyond my flaws and failures,  
Beyond my many imperfections,
There is a story of God’s Son creating  a hope,
Beyond what I might have expected,
A faith far greater than I’d ever predicted,
A love that is alive like the fire living inside…
Because He created my best life…
Because He became the sacrifice,
Because He surely is the bread of life!

Premium Member Warning Sorry a Bit Sexual

It is a sun splashed day; the air is silent with the sound of waves 
from an ocean moving to the rhythm of crying gulls. 
The sand underneath my feet is warm and soothing. 
The crashing waters from a wind sculpted waterfall swims 
into the arms of its mother sea.

It is a private beach at a spot in the world 
were the Caribbean Sea and The Atlantic Ocean hug. 
It is a strange sensation of hot then cold, that tease the senses.

The young woman with me is my lover of four years.
 The golden rays of light from the bright morning star 
lives in the flow of her platinum blond hair. 
In her eyes I can see the bright clear blue ocean, warm, 
but with a piercing love glare that sends shivers up my spine.

We are young, in love and safe 
inside a perfect glossy postcard background.
 Her red lips and light drenched skin glows 
with the beauty of this perfect Jamaican day.

Without a thought I grab the back of her head, 
jerking my lover's whole body towards me 
locking her in the strength of my grasp 
inviting her to quench my desire.

I bite her lips before engaging in a deep passionate kiss 
and remove a barely there bikini from her statuesque figure.

She embraces me as I lift her in my arms 
naked for all the Gods to observe.
 I set her down under the refreshing flow of the rushing waterfall. 
She attempts to pull at me, but I deny her.

I hold back both her arms and use my mouth 
to suckle her all the time absorbing the beating waters 
that kneads my flesh, like so much dough.

Suddenly I set my angel free. She pounces on me, 
like a lioness in heat famished for the taste of flesh.

The world disappears and I find myself willingly trapped in a void. 
Nature's voice conducts an orchestra of emotion. 
We writhe in the ecstasy of touch. 
With the strokes of a divinity fingers paint a portrait of rapture. 
We dance now to the precise notes 
of an escape into the arms of serenity.

In one fluid movement, our bodies become one.
There is no end to the divine flavors we share. 
Cooling waters flame our sins. 
We explode like a building 
imploding gracefully to the roar of infinite sound.

Until eventually we pass out naked 
locked in each others arms. 
We find ourselves lying on the warmth 
of the fine white sand beach when we awaken, 
tattooed in the telling shades of a Jamaican suntan.
Form: Prose

Doyin

I
Yours is a mystery no mortal man can comprehend,
and your name which I mistook for my sister's, is a riddle
that would remain unsolved…
I have searched and searched within the recesses of my heart
since we parted at the crossroads
to know why my heart suddenly fell
like a fly into the spider's web, like a creditor's call
on a debtor's door,
like rain on a sunny day for you (a stranger)
on our first coincidental meeting,
and why it never stopped falling…

II
Weird as it seems,
the resonance of your soft contralto voice
lingers in my head
as if it were moments ago, and I feel
the reverberations against the daunting din
of the crowd that encompassed us…
The image of your slim black body stands in my mind's eyes
like slender palm on a bar beach, 
and the perfect projections on your comely face
reminds me of my mother in her prime
when maidens prided in the sanctity 
of their innocence
and thinking of you lulls me to sleep, to daydream 
youthful dreams of her
in whose shadows I weaned…
Doyin! Lightfooted archer* on the wings of fate-
the suppleness of your black skin and your matchless manners
are true reflections of your untainted roots,
and the playfulness in your cultured tongue exalts you
amongst the silken daughters of Eve
(and are mere reminiscences of our first meeting)
How can I define your superlative beauty in verse?

III
Doyin, you are not one of my sisters,  you are not my mother's daughter
yet, since we parted at the crossroads,
I have been in despair longing for the overwhelming ambience 
of your sisterly warmth,
to hear the sound of your tender voice resonate
in my head down to my heart,
to feel the enlivening breath of your inner bowels,
to rest beneath  the sheltering canopy of your hair, and 
be enlightened by the magic splendour 
of your bespectacled eyes…
Doyin, I long to bridge this river between us
to reach the enchanting realm of your refreshing countenance 
and dwell therein within
the friendly fountains of your heart.
But since we parted at the crossroads,
and you went your way while I stood watching,
the image of your fetching figure 
lodges in the chambers of my heart like a golden fleece

IV
And why my heart suddenly fell for you
I cannot tell…

Was it for your fetching figure or matchless manners?

I still cannot tell

I leave it to fate…

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