Long Rest Poems

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


Premium Member Foster Square,Bradford England

It wasn’t that she was the only woman
in the group, that mingled precariously
beneath the bronze figure, or her classic
stance, when placing immaculately the
newsprint covered bottle to lips willingly
breached, but more her opulent style, her
contrast of attire, her hair as yet unspoilt. 
Although jewel less except for a wedding
ring in her recently pierce blood stained ear
lobe, (this bearing signs of some street wise ritual?)
she still wore a suave sophistication, eyes
that bred a wanton life, fingers more use to
the gentle stem of the crystal goblet, than
the demure grasp of the shapeless neck of
the common brown.     But alas maybe the
corrosion has not as yet penetrated her
foreboding mind, a mind that in time will
be given to surrender, never to realize that
this volatile life will plunge her deeper, into
one shambolic life, whilst still trying to escape
from the previous. But! Who knows what ills she
was force to bear, what tribulations life brought
upon her, maybe her new found acquaintance
comfort her, listen to her sympathetically,
understanding her predicament, also a novelty
this sharing, this caring, respect and reverence
showered upon her, like solicitous petals
falling gracefully upon her shoulders,
removing the burdens of a lifetime.
                                                         Her head
began to lift higher and higher with every
mouthful of distant courage, every courteous act.
Then! A look of deep despair, as the bottle was
released from her reluctant deep red lips, a
senseless shake only proved her greatest fear.
Immediately to her aid, came one of her new found
companions, swiftly finishing his own endless gorge,
he commence to wipe the neck of his perpetual habit,
with his mucus soiled cuff less sleeve, before
passing it on to her veracious hand, his eyes eagerly
awaiting its return.
                            One can imagine when the long day
is over, the sun finally at rest, only the motley bench will be hers, only the best that fleet street can offer, will cover her chilled body, her metabolism soon accelerating, to become one with theirs, a license to enter their dissipation, only then will all options for her diminish, external metamorphosis soon to blend with inner corruption, life’s destruction almost completed!

                                        © Harry J Horsman 1991


Speeches On Different Occasions

We always eulogize a child on his birth   
We also eulogize a person on his death     
On both occasions he is unable to appreciate the praise  
At birth he is unable to understand the words  
At death his ears are unresponsive to the sound   
Why do we always say good things on these occasions?   

Must we confine our eulogy only to these occasions?
A child doesn’t understand our words at the time of his birth
So it doesn’t matter whatever our words may sound
The logic isn’t the same for a person on his death
We have an innate fear that his spirit is hearing our words
We wish to impress the spirit by using words of praise

                                 
Why should we impress the spirit with words of praise?
There is a belief that the spirit will leave after such occasions
Some believe that the spirits are not influenced by words
Our fate after death depends on all our deeds after birth 
All good deeds will be rewarded by the Creator after death
Fate is not decided on words irrespective of how it may sound 

It is impossible to infer true feelings from how the words sound 
We often pretend to please others by telling words of praise
These pretensions are useless when hearing ability ceases on death 
 But may be fruitful when spoken to others on different occasions
It is ineffective when the sense of hearing is undeveloped at birth 
The generation of feelings depends upon how we express the words

Human relations depend on how we express our feelings in words.
Expressions, conveying different feelings, are said in a varying sound
The effectiveness is lost when conveyed to a child at birth
Damaged human relations can be repaired through words of praise
The appropriate expressions must be chosen to suit the occasion
Feelings and expressions must amalgamate in the occasion of death

One of the most solemn occasions in life is that of death
While expressing feelings we carefully select the words
The choice of words  matches the vibes of the occasions
The speeches are characterized by a particular sound
On such occasions we forget our true feelings and praise
Ebullient feelings are aroused on the occasion of birth

The strength of a relationship is expressed by the identity of the sound
The effectiveness of the expressions rest on the choice of words
Alas! The only expressions a child has are cries at birth
Form: Sestina

Premium Member Eternal Goals

I set out to write a verse
A verse of prayer and praise
Words to worship the One
Who created me and gave to me
A sense of hope, purpose, faith
Love that lingers in my soul
Capturing the essence of joy

I set out to write my thoughts
Pertaining to my Lord
The One who caused me to love
With all my heart and soul
Without conditions, limits or terms
With everything that He gave
Appreciation, kindness and grace

I set out to give back to Him
A bit of the love He’d given me
The compassion and gentleness, the charity
That came alive with a prayer for His
Love to open up my heart
And light the spark that was hope
Abiding there within my soul

I set out to bring worship to Him
Who had brought affection to my spirit
Singing to me of dreams everlasting
On visions that whisper through my heart
Forcing me to listen to the brilliant thoughts
Discovered in the miracle of His gifts
The treasure of joy found within - through Him

I set out to live my life for Him
Despite many mistakes, sins that left me sorry
I gave my best, leaving all the rest 
To bring to Him my greatest attempts to give
With a heart that appreciates His gift
Of salvation, deliverance, escape from anguish
That comes to those who do not believe

I set out to listen to the whisper
Of His still, small voice – His direction
His correction, affection and the connection
That caused me to believe in His wisdom and strength
The blessing of love so alive it could dance
Through the soul on a breath from His lips
Breathing out love so sweet it leaves pure peace

I set out to give someone a chance to see
The hope, faith and love that live inside of me
Because I took the hand of the One who died for me
And listened to the voice of my Father God
Who told me to live as if I had His heart
And could love better than I could every imagine
With a love that’s been lit by a fire of compassion

I set out to give someone joy and hope
But soon discovered that He had given me the gift
Through the wisdom that lives within
When He answers a prayer I’ve prayed
For words to give back to someone a part of me
The piece of my heart that knows 
He is there, alive and wise, controlling it all

I set out to give and found… His love within my soul
Love that is my eternal goal

The Barmaid and the Pedlar

There's an old English song called  All Jolly Fellows That Follow The PLow.  The tune works fine as is for the chorus and with the verses if the tune for the 3rd and 4th lines is repeated for th 5th and 6th. Well, it works for me but my singing has never been much hindered by tunes.



It was after that big game one long gone September,
the score line was one I’d like not to remember,
in a small Richmond pub not too far from the ground,
we all settled down with our sorrows to drown.
We were well on the way, as were most of the crowd,
when in came a young pedlar a shouting out loud.

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Cried the barmaid, “How many do I get to a yard?”
“Madam, four if they’re soft or three if they’re hard”
She felt for the soft ones, she wanted a lot,
but the more that she squeezed em the harder they got.
She found not a sausage was e’en a bit soft
so she told the young pedlar to go get far offed 

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Said the pedlar, “Why madam no need to be rude.
And in fact what you told me was verging on crude
But you don’t look so bad for a foul mouthed old sow
so step on outside, if you like, with me now.
If you play your cards right I might squeeze your left breast.
If I find I like that I might squeeze all the rest.”

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Said the barmaid to pedlar, “You are a right jerk,
I’m a barmaid and never do mission’ry work.
But if you're near to the shops and you buy me some eggs,
I might squeeze that there pimple you’ve got ‘tween your legs.”
Then she said something that made the whole crowd guffaw,
“And will you stop off at home and please check the back door?”

“
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.



For Cyndi MacMillan's pub song contest
© Red Omara  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ballad

The Dogs We Called Family

The Dogs we called Family

Tara came first and then there was Ben,
When both of them died we said never again.
Then Sam the runner, got killed in the street,
Prince came and went quick, we didn't know he was sick.
He came from a farm where distemper was rife,
Took him to the vet where he ended his life.
One year had to pass to get our house clear,
Without a mutt there, it seemed without cheer.
One day I was out and the Pound I happened to pass,
I doubled back and I looked through the glass.
Inside I walked, many dogs ignoring my stare,
Until one at the end looked up at me square,
Sat on her haunches both paws outstretched.
She's the one, I knew, so my family I fetched.
I said nothing to them of the dog I had seen,
When they saw the same one I knew they were keen.
The dog was due for the jab that very hour,
To save her life now was in our power, you see.
We paid the fee for her life, Our Lucy was free.
She was the new member added to our family of four,
She lived with us and loved us for 19 years more.
While she was with us we had another to add,
Along came Jamie the Yorkie,he was a bit of a lad.
Like Ben he stayed near ten years and sadly passed.
Lucy died of old age, we said it's time to give in.
Our Garden Cemetery of loved ones was full to the brim.
To Cyprus we came to retire and live in the sun,
Of a dog in the family we didn't want one.
Then a visit to Larnaca was to change our life again,
Because along came Lexi to start it all over again.
She was soon followed by Levi, he was a lively one,
Then came Eli, the whirlwind and pain in the bum.
So from just us two forever as we'd planned,
Now we were five and life was once again grand.
A sad day loomed we had no idea of what was to come,
Levi was walking wrong so we took him to the vet
He had hurt his spine, as bad as it could get.
His rear end gave out and could not be reversed.
He was paralyzed, and getting steadily worse.
The love he gave us in his life reduced us to tears.
The vet said it's time he confirmed our worst fears.
We let him go to where he could romp with all the rest,
All the dogs in our family, they were the best.
With Tara and Ben, Jamie,Charlie the Pinscher and Lucy too
Neo the Collie  and Big Ben & Storm the Rottweilers two,
Newfoundland Curtis and Demon the Chow,
All Pals together, in the Big Kennel now.

© Dave Timperley May 5th 2016
Form: Epitaph


Whats My Calling

I know I have a special purpose for my life, 
I'm just struggling to answer 
One question, what's my calling?
I don't know. 

God I'm struggling I don't know what to do
What is it that I want to do?
I thought I knew at one point, but that plan didn't go 
Like driving in a car but the air won't flow.

I know I'm your beloved son
And in me is whom you are well pleased
But sometimes I feel lost 
Without a guide to point me down the right path.

Help me to see who it is I'm called be,
Who am I supposed to lead? 
I don't have any answers 
I pray you speak to me.

Help me hear what it is you want from me
As I begin to cry, I wish I could wipe my eyes 
But tears still continue to fall from my eyes.
 
No matter how much I try my cheeks will never be dry 
God I don't what am I supposed to do? 
Pray and wait for you

I remember a few weeks back, my friend sent me a text 
Saying she supports and believes in my dreams, 
My parents said the same thing
So I know I'm loved and supported 
By love from up above
 
Open my ear God I need to hear from you 
What it is that I'm called to do? 
Show others the light of Christ
How can I do that, when I don't even know your calling for my life?

I feel like I'm letting everyone down 
I have no answers.
I want to make an impact but can't reenact my old plan 
I accept that I need help, God reveal your plan. 
I put my life in your hands
Please show me your perfect plan 
And I will be the best me that I can
I give you full control, 
Help me get my life under control.

I know I'll find my place you always make a way
No matter what path I take you will make everything okay
I have chosen to follow only in your ways 
And read your word for the rest of my days.
 
I'm not in this on my own there's no way, 
I can't make it traveling my own way 
I need help, I need advice.
 
I know you'll never leave my side 
No need for me to duck and hide. 
You're glued to me, more like me to you 
After all, everything I will ever need is found in you.

My old nature has been tossed out, 
I'm a new man with a new plan 
Reequipped and reset
Now I'm ready for the next step. 
Get a vision, create a path, 
Time for me to get my life back on track. 

I know I have a special calling on my life
To share the light of Jesus Christ 
What's your calling for my life?
I don't know what's my calling?
Form: Lyric

Our Family Reunions Are Strange, Part I

I will sometimes be asked how it came about
that my children have one set of grandparents,
and I know just what you are thinking now,
but hear me out, an all of this will make sense.

I’m explaining this for one final time
to put all these blasted rumors to rest,
the odd position my family is in
did not come about due to incest!

It began when I, Armond Carruthers,
fell in love with a beautiful girl.
Her name is Denise, and she is my light
in this crazy and much-confused world.

See the two of us were high school sweethearts,
been together since our junior year,
managed to build something that could outlast
the blind passion of our teenage years.

But during our freshman year of college
we decided that we couldn’t wait,
maybe we were just a pair of young fools,
but we went ahead and set the date.

Now this is the point the story gets strange,
both of us were raised by one parent alone,
my father died in a car accident
when I was six, mom raised me on her own.

Denise’s mother was out of her life,
she cheated on her dad when Denise was four,
her father George did all the upbringing,
he gave her all of his hear and then more.

We were just nineteen when we got engaged,
her dad George was a fit forty-one,
my mother, Kristen, was just thirty-nine,
wanted to do something nice for her son.

She was us to focus on our studies,
and would gladly help plan the wedding,
that she and George would make things run smoothly,
we both thanked her, and let them do their thing.

They both must have seen something they liked,
though neither one of us realized it then,
they kept meeting up to ‘plan the wedding’
again...and again...and again…

All this time we just thought it was nice
that these future in-laws were getting along,
figured it would make holidays easy,
you can say we both read that one wrong.

Of course they did not tell us all this,
and the wedding was done in fine style,
neither realizing that for two months now
my mother knew that she was with child…

When three months later it became obvious,
both our parents sheepishly let us know,
to say we were stunned does not describe it,
but later to the courthouse we did go.

And as if this surprise wasn’t enough,
when my mind struggled to make some sense,
I received even more life-changing news,
my Denise was also now pregnant…

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

Fear Not For Behold I Bring Tidings of Great Joy

In this time the cloth is unwoven, the threads laid bare.   
Most of the dung removed, cleared, given no fare.
Massive steel plates hold back the uninvited from boarding the train.
Going and coming returning from far, how special the precious Saved Ones are!
Not as many by count, as expected to be, go only the accepted glorified in He. 
The One by name Jesus Christ is He, by birth our Savior, God’s only Son.
The rapture has started transformation begun!  
“Multitudes Missing” is what is said both of the living and of the dead.
Glory shone at the uniting above as Jesus ascended taking the Throne.
Angels and Saints at the table were there, celebrating the beginning 
As promised by some, in the Book it is written the time has come. 

To those uninvited still sinning below Tribulation unending they endure
Because death is not given for the unforgiven there is no cure.
Now that The Holy Spirit is gone replaced by the unholy one.
Three and one half years his reign will be before his anointment as 
King of the land, then after another one half and three
From his throne he gathers his forces to make his stand.  
In Jerusalem, after the Temple’s complete, is the place Armageddon has come. 
Many the forces pressing the land foul and dirty sinners are they.
Angels from above sweet music they play, as their swords slash, many they slay.
The rest are all gathered sorted like sheep the wicked on the left and thrown into the deep
Where welcomed by him unholy for sure cured not forever burning in hell.

Be it certain, known for sure, Jesus has returned all hail the King.
For a thousand years he will reign all living forever no sickness or pain.
He is my God the only pure one born of a mortal, Spirit raised, God’s Son.
On the cross our sin debt He paid glory forever so easily gained
Not by good works impossible to do only in accepting as Savior, our Lord, King.
In living and doing such a small little thing why do so many risk certain despair?
Is it that we tangled in our lives, mundane as they are, have little care
For those less willing the truth to be know spread the message they must be shown!
Think now of forever the price they bear become an ambassador in Jesus’ name!
Hot is the pit with its flame burning bright engulfing a loved one what a terrible sight.
The time is at hand the cloth becoming bare; Jesus is the answer show you dare.
© Rick Magee  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Aha Eureka

Remember when that flash of insight
last self-ignited in your expectant thoughts
blasting away the fog of uncertainty, complexity and doubt.
A sudden aha Eureka answer, pure, simple, so succinct, beautiful.
To some this flash of aha is called duration, or a blink. insight, acumen, Eureka!

But, my friend, how, why, when, where, do these Aha moments arise?
Can we conger up more for ourselves, fill a treasure cheat with insights?
Or is this quest a waste of time, as no treasure map exits. But does it? 
Can we ever know with what, and how, and when to cast the magic wand?
Does our search for meaning, inquiries lay the foundation?
Can we prepare the way ahead in some way or other?
Think back, my friend, did these gems 
always spring up unexpectedly, and what occurred beforehand?

These aha Euekas cannot be scheduled or delayed, 
cannot be snuck-up on, snared nor detected, 
cannot be forced out nor guaranteed to appear.
Euekas are not rewards for hard work, perhaps the opposite is true.
How often does lazy and shallow wader get the creative rewards.
Chance is never fair in its rewards for hard work.

Often, an Aha taps us on the shoulder, we are least expecting it, 
out of the blue, saying: "Look at Me. Look at Me". 
When gobbled up with glee, it washes over and transforms us. 
We are never be the same. It makes our day.
Does begging the question, ignoring the answers laid out
make it pop up from the soup into an inquiring mind?
Or does it appear when we raise questions to that have already been answered well?
Does it appear when we thin-slice the book to separate the leaves?
Often mistakes and errors have led to great breakthroughs
like penicillin, radioactivity, the color mauve and plastics.
What does this mean to you and your Aha Eureka pot of gold?
Should we be less careful, more observant for the unusual?

The Aha Eureka is a fleeting feeling, easily lost in the blink of an eye,
rampant, capricious, imperceptible, unbounded, elusive
like seeing something in the corner of the eye at dusk,
if you look straight at it, it's gone, look back again, it's there again.
For me it can be a matter of serendipity.
The more I see, the more I do, the more I explore, the more hits are triggered.
Many total restarts from scratch, often helps.
But, for me the one simple things
that works is lay me down to rest,
and to sleep on it!

Ode To Tai-Ana At Age Ten and Far Away

1

Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still burn
thine absence half a decade spent in vain
to break the bonds that tie, that fett’ring chain
that holds me from embracing  thee, thyself  in turn.

Thine all enchanting smile, piercing eyes–
thy flailing arms, the limbs, with rhythmic stroke – 
responses soundless to the silent words I spoke
to thee before from thee Fate forced me from thy cries.

I watched thee grow through temp’rate times of yore – 
remembering the gall’ry of my mind.

‘Twas all I had.
			
			2

Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still ache
thy presence all too far in distant land
where careless arms push thee with calloused hand
away from mine where once I swore thee none could take.

Thine eyes with tears I shared I shed alone
so thou might never feel the agony
the anguish, loss of my identity,
thy father, thee my offspring, daughter, dearest one.

I watched thee grow through chilling times, and more – 
remembering thy portrait in my mind.

‘Twas all I had.

.			3

Oh, gentle child, how doth my soul yet yearn
those many hours oft upon my breast
thy head thou laid safe harbor for thy rest,
thy questions,  mind alert, thy hungering to learn.

Thy voice I hear through dreams and zephyr breeze,
thou lark by morn by eve the nightingale,
as Dawn and Dusk, Aurora without fail,
thou hast my heart and soul kept warm with ease.

I watch thee grow, and will,  forever more – 
remembering thy sculpture in my mind.

‘Tis all I have.

		4

Until we are as one renewed
some future date somewhere awaits
when thou her servant dare to flee 
that which with thee so long accrued
where here I love and there she hates
that wily witch who bindeth thee. 

Break loose those  prison bars that bind
thy tired wings that flap in vain – 
Renew thy pledge at length to find
thy youthful freedom once again.
Then shalt thy flags fly high aloft
while eagles scream thy freedom song,
while robins chirp with redbreast, soft – 
all a capella – pure and long.

Then both our souls shall share their peace,
a father and his daughter, found
to spend their lives on borrowed lease
to live and die on hallowed ground.

Thus, take, Tai-Ana, this, my prayer
that fathers and their children hear
of this solemnity
that children here and everywhere
ne’er shed a sad though soulful tear
for all eternity.

[Finis]
Form: Ode

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