Long Reunion Poems
Long Reunion Poems. Below are the most popular long Reunion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reunion poems by poem length and keyword.
In darkness, a rainy-cold evening, he walked.
His eyes swept the mud, his coat fluttered about.
Down, past the railroad tracks and the town.
To the old, empty warehouse that all had forgotten.
A back door yielded with a creak and a whine.
The echo of raindrops became the sole sound.
All was shadow within; no, there was a glow!
Soft blue light in the depths flickered on ...
Why had he come here? He hardly knew.
Still something stole him away from his home.
Some ache deep within had guided his steps,
and now his eyes glimmered for the first time in days.
Blood pounded in him, his thoughts were tangled,
but his subconscious knew clearly just what he had found.
He drew closer, beheld rusting pipes and old gears.
A burnt-out machine, with the ghost of a life.
He reached out to touch it, then he felt a spark.
Behold! With a blaze, it illumined the dark.
And power surged twixt the metal and man.
At last! No more was he under the ban!
The clumsy wheels whizzed, and the iron sang,
steam bellowed out with a puff and a clang.
And the man smiled deeply, and laughed with a sigh,
and his eyes glowed with life that none could deny.
He threw off his coat, and took in his hands,
a treasure greater than gold in the sands.
A blessed reunion that too late did start,
but tonight, once again, he was one with his heart.
11 July 2016
Vacation 2019 --- wondrous indeed
From regular work routine, joyously freed
Toward fruitful clan reunion I did heed
Cognizant that God blesses heritage-breed.
Precious with every significant feature
Marked by program revealing tribal culture
Such meeting of warm and sweet kindness’ posture
Made me grateful for belongingness-gesture.
Entrusted to share Gospel of Christ* with zest
I prepared along prayer to do my best
Knowing that the Lord would work to the fullest
For loved ones’ redemption toward heaven’s rest.
Glad singing of praise-choruses did follow
Then food partaking allowed blessed swallow
Letting my appetite in feast to wallow
While basking with fellowship, never hollow.
Midst bonding time of reminiscence-delights
Testifying on home town great trip’s highlights
Especially being thrilled by hanging bridge sights
I confessed, “There, God vanquished my fear of heights.”
Then my exhilarating plunge fulfillment
Was realized thru water falls’ endowment
Enjoying natural gracious bestowment
With kindred fellows in earnest merriment.
Yes, 2019 vacation truly grand
Keeps warming my heart with memories’ demand
While posted pictures and videos “live-at-hand”
Beckon me again to visit dear home land.
*Romans 1:16 For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth…
February 1, 2022
1st place, "A STRAND (1067)" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 2/6/2022.
Father and son never saw eye to eye, too much jealousy on the patriarch side
He constantly put his son down for everything he did, competing incessantly
One day the son had enough and walked away, there was nothing else to do
Father and son reunion
you can't peel an onion
without crying a few tears
Ten long years passed with neither one saying a word to each other.
Then one day he found a loving woman who opened his heart, he forgave.
They re-connected only to find out his father had left him out of the will
Anger is a monster
wearing a holster
with a loaded gun
Abuse kept creeping in just like the old days. Verbal abuse returned
Then the day came when Father got sick and he drove him to the hospital
Son tried to make amends and tell his dad he loved him, he was rebuked
Death can devour ego
and teach you to let go
or pride can win
"Get out" he screamed to his son at his death bed. Adam was left, broken.
It takes years to come to terms with abuse, He died November last year
An empath at heart he cries at the drop of a hat. Most gentle man I ever met
I should know, he is my future son in law and I am proud of him.
Contest Name Ego shorn, here now reborn | Enter Contest
Deadline 7/28/2022 12:00:00 AM
Ego shorn, here now reborn
My faith blooms of a cherish for our Forgiver,
and forgiveness isn't, "I'll forgive you,
if you'll forgive me,"
it's a symphony of lilacs in the springtime
fields,
a song from the wren's delicate heart,
it's when you awaken after a bitter night
of anger melted into tiredness.
Moments of grief turned to lavender
scented pillows lulling you into a
resplendent dream.
Forgiveness is of white doves ascending
to Heaven's purest love,
carrying whispers of the world praying,
as little workers in your mind build a bridge
of golden cables of peace forged by God,
whether those you've forgiven have a
reunion with you or not. ~
This is for those of us who felt loss
for those of us who paid the cost
yet in the midst of a forgiving heart
we still feel lost
I'M sorry big sis for turning my back on you
I never would have thought after all this time
that you would come look me up too
I am certain that all roads was blocked of to me
how did you find me?
I'm a lost for words
it has been forever that I really faced up to family
I ran away from that
the past has a nasty habit of coming back like whirlwind
even if you did moved on
I don't care why you are here
I forgive you
I need you
you need me
after all we are family...
Form:
In the land of the laundry room, a mystery does reside,
Of the missing sock that vanished, leaving its mate behind.
Was it a daring escape, a sock rebellion in the night?
Or simply an accident, a case of sock flight?
The lonely sock sits abandoned without its partner near,
Hoping for a reunion, shedding a single tear.
It dreams of the days when they frolicked as a pair,
Now it’s all alone, feeling quite despair.
Perhaps the missing sock found a new calling in life,
As a puppet in a play, or a hat for a mouse quite nice,
Or maybe it’s just hiding, playing a sneaky game?
Laughing at the chaos it’s caused, adding to the fame.
Perhaps sent to a dimension that’s forbidden?
Did they form a gang, the odd sock brigade?
Taking over the laundry room, in a colorful charade?
But in the world of laundry, anything can occur,
So next time you do laundry, keep a vigilant eye,
For that missing sock may return, with a twinkle in its eye.
But until then, cherish the odd ones left behind,
For they add a touch of whimsy to your daily grind.
Infinite pitch black void zoomed,
I vacillated then pitched headlong
(head and knobby knees, over heels)
where skeletons in shuttered closets roomed,
and antithesis of freedom loomed
large (think) cosmic size grand canyon groomed
courtesy the once mighty Mississippi,
now barely a babbling brook in places
espouses, and cloisters unbridled wedded bliss
till after honeymoon, than couple fumed
one accusing the other of infidelity
absolute zero witnessed crime of passion
lifeless bodies in shallow grave entombed
after violent retribution forensic experts
determine homicide after lovely bones exhumed
shotgun marriage from getgo doomed
structured sound of silence boomed.
Against the wishes of slumbering wife,
the following I nonetheless narrated,
to you how she temporarily held
yours truly check (mated),
thus eternal salvation sought
at healing waters of Lake Woebegone
repurposed conscious being
to experience sanguine mood linkedin
attending high school reunion
ridding hypocrisy, modesty,
and travesty initially I hibernated
away from madding crowd
once for all ascending
soul asylum gilded gated
stairway to heaven
consanguinity amidst deceased brethren
impossible mission to discern,
dawdling against inevitable fated
doom, thus I nevertheless equivocated
and bemoaned series of unfortunate events.
Daniel Handler an American writer and musician
best known for his children's series
A Series of Unfortunate Events
and All the Wrong Questions
Lemony Snicket honestly created
salvation blissfully, knowingly belated
and thankfully ameliorated.
At long last doomed existence
finally fancy free and footloose
Earthly afflictions divine creator
severe trials and tribulations let loose
promise body, mind and spirit triage
damn physical, mental, and
spiritual afflictions permanent vamoose
yoked Sisyphean and mephistophelean woe
summoning herculean strength
(mine) to vanquish
courtesy (halloo) gibbet welcome noose
necks stop outer limits analogous cooked goose.
Incensed Shadows
My silent quest for light through incensed shadows,
The first gift to creation by Omnipotent radiance,
Crusader seeks an astral beacon to rise above wooden rows
Unblocking healing springs of ambient deliverance.
Refraction’s womb, sunbeams float in puddles of colored glass
While all my harps on Babylon’s willow boughs lay silent
My regret cringes in deep twilight’s murkiest morass -
Out on a ledge, can’t face another sunrise to repent.
My harsh words cut into tenderness like sharpened curses
Then slashed their way to the guarded marrow of my bones
Bruised inflammation spills into unquenchable thirst
Escaping feathers in the wind left my heart abandoned - alone!
Breath of grace, this hermit’s plea to the cloudless eternal Word
Renew the clarity of my deafened eyes and blinded ears
Aura of the everlasting love - your renewal not blurred
I see with lacy joy when the joy of joy reborn appears.
Lo a rose now blooms in my winter’s frigid night
Appearing through my labyrinth with graceful union
Burnished solace in cherubic tinted twilight -
New perfumed dawn – gracious warmth - healing reunion.
12-16-20
Contest: A Rhyme Story
Sponsor Mystic Rose Rose
been a long time
i wonder if i still have it
all the pens have been buried from my sight
however, i managed to find one this misty monday morning
i write this poem without thought or even a warning
i remember her in those tight fruity jeans
her hair was like simplicity starlight in an everlasting exploration
her aura was like lavender scented candles reigniting my introverted personality
her smile left me speechless like writing in cursive with my right hand
in the toybox corner of my mind is the snowstorm that brought us to notice
been an eternity going grey
i wonder if arousal still exists in our atmosphere
all the pads have been dangling in an attempt to make insanity appear calm and steady
however, i managed to come upon one this windy sunday morning
i finish this poem as i feel my reemergence ecstatically swarming
Psalm 119:28 – "My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word." King David in the Bible.
Swords
Grief is the silent, ripping sword,
the razor slashing inward;
the days, the weeks, the years go by
and time is an enigma.
Some say normal life returns
but they have never lived this;
there is no normal after death,
there never is returning.
The space remains, tormenting void -
once filled, your vibrant face within it.
Upon my heart your image burns,
much like the sacred veil,
the essence of a treasured soul
who outgrew life as we still know it
and moved beyond this place,
beyond this world, beyond time’s face,
by lifted hands made sightless.
But, I believe, someday,
we will know reunion;
the banquet seats will all be filled,
the smiles all genuine and real,
banished the deceptive costumes.
Healed, our hearts will be rejoined,
more alive than ever here,
where all the swords are beaten smooth,
shining troubadours of joy,
and all the tears forgotten.
February 22, 2022