Long Repose Poems
Long Repose Poems. Below are the most popular long Repose by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Repose poems by poem length and keyword.
One can only be isolated by weather
in a room for a season, then push the door
open and flee whenever the spirit
may lead, that bond of friendship so strongly felt
can never be broken by loneliness,
it strengthens it more with affection and trust:
how wonderful is to have friends who don't transgress!
One can only be limited by need,
when loyalty is sworn you have made an oat,
don't let dishonor infringe upon it;
friendship is not temporary fancy, it's an epic poem
of loyalty that unifies friends until their end.
Honor it and perceive it that it is good for body and spirit...
whenever you plant that beneficial seed;
have you ever be inspired to write an emblem?
I have sought friendship and failed at it,
it could have brought night and shadows of repose,
and vanquished days of prolonged emptiness,
but God was with me and became the friend
I never had, I talked with Him and He answered.
God is that loyal friend who never deceives or deserts;
God never asks anyone to exceed his limit,
and be poked by the poisonous thorns of a lovely rose!
August 22 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Jeremiah 36-38
Key Verse – Jeremiah 36:7 It may be they will present their supplication before the LORD, and will return every one from his evil way: for great is the anger and the fury that the LORD hath pronounced against this people.
FAITH IN GOD WHO INVITES US
TO PRESENT OUR SUPPLICATION BEFORE HIM
God invites us to present our supplication before His throne of lovingkindness
Where He welcomes us by His graciousness
For our faith’s responsiveness to His goodness
While praying to Him with sincere earnestness.
God invites us to present our supplication before His heart of deliverance
Where He rescues us from prison within vanity’s futile endurance
For our faith’s conquest against arrogance and ignorance
While exalting Him, staying in His salvation-mercy’s forbearance.
God invites us to present our supplication before His pillar of life-building
Where He teaches us His instructions of pride-bending
For our faith’s performance along His precepts always guiding
While approaching Him humbly with Biblical standing.
God invites us to present our supplication before His altar of eternal purpose
Where He forgives us of sins we confess, not only suppose
For our faith’s sanctification that foes try oppose
While abiding in Him and in His will wherein we find divine repose.
God invites us to present our supplication before His chamber of compassion
Where He meets us around His generous provision
For our faith’s perseverance toward steadfast intercession
While seeking Him, thankful for His heavenly vision.
God invites us to present our supplication before His fort of Word-fulfillment
Where He settles us against doubts, unbelief and discontentment
For our faith’s strength in ministry-involvement
While serving Him with our best by His empowerment.
God invites us to present our supplication before His door of stewardship
Where He opens to us opportunities for His work’s partnership
For our faith’s increase in continuing midst His discipleship
While worshipping Him, peacefully delighting in His offered joyful relationship.
August 22, 2025
The learning of he who lacks poise,
In coward’s hand arms carried rife,
Contentment there’s, nor calm repose
To old man with a winsome wife.
_______________________
Translation |07.10.2024| knowledge, weapons, timid, wife, old man
Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. Words of wisdom on knowledge of a man who lacks confidence and poise, weapons in the hands of a coward. They do not help much like a beautiful young wife of an old man. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows:
Praagalbhya-heenasya narasya vidyaa, shastram yathaa kaa-purushhasya haste |
Na triptim utpaadayate shareere, vriddhasya daaraa iva darshaneeyaa ||
Realization
Fear is cancer’s preservative,
As Embalming fluid to the living.
And you, oh accuser,
Are fear’s embalming salesman.
You are a snake,
Paradox bound.
Wrapped around the rod that binds you,
Depraved.
Attempting to free itself from its own fault.
Deceiving and deluding all who come near,
Nothing but a false symbol of repose.
Biding its time until the sirens sound.
Grace
I don’t need to focus on death,
Studying it and its slow progression.
Its course is clear already,
But when death is circling close.
That is when redemption finally feels closer,
That’s when Jesus’s glory steps in.
It is a mighty rushing wind,
Quick and frightening
Ever so fierce to eradicate,
The sickness of chains ever going.
I want to be watching for that glory,
To set my boy free from this purgatory.
Resolution
So here we are,
The air is emptier without his laugh.
But yet our hearts are full,
Though, with a different drink.
Now this ride that I was on is now silent,
So we sit here in this new silence.
And long for the music to start again,
And for the disc to spin again.
Even if it means going round and round for years,
At least I would be moving.
And he would be laughing in heaven,
But in this space.
His silence is because he is drawing his breathe,
And now I know love.
Empty and full, all in one moment.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Quietude
I fail to coerce the pleasures
of the angular hushed cast that
repose near secret abundance,
an army of cloudy measures.
They dance serenely against less
modest logging near its silence
defense, encountering seizure
as my statuesque poise digress.
Overwhelmed, stood diminutive
in a soundless spread of leisure
as a mime wall layout treasures
of a speechless contributive.
The shadowed wall rises and sinks,
as one tongue-tied formed forty winks,
the whole functionality blinks,
an inaudible show methinks.
Tis unbearable to witness,
pray tell my savior cometh to
provoke a feather to fall and
perplexes an analysis.
I reveal my lamentation
of it intuitively stunned,
the fluffiness whisked e'er so soft
facing the wood-grained foundation.
Creating such a disturbance
of natural elements oft
space and time, that its sheer purpose
o'er the grain gave an appearance.
Twas newsworthy, the faintest hint,
proffered my initial imprint,
that the perceptiveness blueprint,
was a micro-captive reprint.
2020 February 17
Lines to Awaken your Muse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
3. A hasty glance and still my heart leaped up - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Rhyme Scheme;
abca, dced, feaf, hhhh, abca, dced, feaf, hhhh.
Howmanysyllables;
32 lines x 8 syllables per = 256 syllables total
a rondel
We rode by and caught The Thinker in France,
one small window of time, recklessly close.
The Vatican has many small windows
when in Rome, we’d stood by, long in advance.
Rows of windows, we'd waited for a glance
of Pope Francis giving blessed repose.
We rode by and caught The Thinker in France,
one small window of time, recklessly close.
Rodin’s famed sculpture exposed quite by chance,
from the bus, our eyes fixed on his well-known pose.
In Rome, so far-away, the pope? who knows?
But in Paris no doubt, no looks askance,
We rode by and caught The Thinker in France.
posted December 13, 2015
This form is a rondel. As I was writing about an experience in Paris, I thought a French form would be appropriate. I like the occasion to use repeated lines for emphasis. My poem is a contrast between a serendipitous, chance sighting of the famous sculpture, The Thinker, in Paris and a well-planned but long wait to hear Pope Francis' Sunday blessing in Rome. Both Rodin's sculpture and the pope represent great thinkers in different ways.
The golden sun gleams awhile
In the color burst nascent horizon
Gifts me a new promising day
Motivating me to walk invigorated
Another mile of the revived life.
In the satin cerulean sky
Cloud clumps float carefree
Lure me to boundless freedom
Motivating me to fly like a bird
In the firmament of ecstasy.
The rippling spring breeze flowing
Over the blooming garden of yearning
Entices me to repose on reverie
Motivating me to make dreams
To rise from the debris of despair.
On the glossy beach reclined
Beguiled waves rolling pearls of glint
Beckon me to etch my footprints
Motivating me to walk the lingering joy
To the end of time.
July 23, 2021
Contest : Motivation
Sponsor : Shreya LN
What's the reality of a dream,
Or the truth of a stark lie?
The wisdom of a foolish whim
About the life after we die?
Is being too good - bad?
Like an over-ripe fruit is rotten;
Is being godly - fanatical a tad?
Like vows taken in jest and forgotten.
Can you hear the sound of silence,
Or see the blinding light of the night?
Can you trust the religion of science
Or envision the frailty of the might?
Do you see with the eye of the mind,
And fathom the mysteries it holds?
How it ties the forces of life in its bind,
And wraps the heavens in its folds?
Can you rein in your fate in oblivion,
Or wet the lips of the desert in pouring rain?
Can you touch the sky standing on the horizon,
Or pitch your tent at the portals of heaven?
Do we need to wage wars for peace,
And tackle the thorns to smell the rose?
Do we scale the peak of the abyss
in the realm of heaven to repose?
Do we need to sin for salvation,
And to win God - court the devil?
Is life a boon or the damnation,
Can good at all be born of evil?
The reign of death will last as long as time
when my last fruit changes into wormwood
the death of life is not misunderstood
when candles lit will cause the bells to chime
silent in death's repose lay I disguised
this end will count the minuscule of years
and quell the fear unknown when it appears
from Heaven's Kingdom minds have actualized
no way can I vanquish the time of death
dispenses me as if a rotten gourd
the fear of what's beyond in silence grows
when life cannot sustain the fate of breath
I'll find Charon's ferry and get aboard
the question asked of truth is no one knows
4/6/23 contest I Died
I have many Christmas memories I hold close,
and see in my mind the child I once was;
my mother loved decorating,
the complete house and tree.
I was her assistant holding tinsel and balls,
we worked all day long except for teatime.
We all went to church for midnight at Christmastime,
and opened one gift- I would wish for dolls;
soon, I had a doll on my knee.
I dreamt of ice skating,
with new skates on my wish list sent to Santa Claus;
now, I wish for the people who repose.
I am all grown up. Oh how the years and time goes,
and each Christmas Eve I must pray and pause;
on memories captivating,
the best gift was love- you see !
All those memories that I hold close still enthrall,
sweet memory gifts always sublime.
_____________________
November 30, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/Christmas Where Are You
Copyright Protected, ID 11-1410-431-30
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, A Christmas Gift Memory
sponsor, BJ Legros Kelley, Judged 12/24/2021
Third Place