Long Rivaled Poems
Long Rivaled Poems. Below are the most popular long Rivaled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rivaled poems by poem length and keyword.
Trinkets sparkling in the crisp night air.
Begging watchers' eyes feast on heavenly fare.
All is quiet, save soft symphonies of leg and wing.
Nocturnal notes, chittering.
Moisture from the stormy evening,
blankets all in tears, gleaming.
Diamonds dropping, splashing,
Percussions building, circling.
The chorus nears ending,
night's creatures settling.
What was twinkling and bright gives way.
Dawn brims the horizon, swelling.
A crimson kiss, placed with loving,
upon cheeks of clouds.
Longing, awaiting
Wondrous, her canvas.
A magnificence not to miss.
The warmth of her gaze comes.
Darkness dismissed.
All is anew in our turning
Light's creator soars high, burning.
Her goal set on day's presenting.
Before the world wakes and scurries,
I wish to enjoy this spectacle with you, my love.
Whose beauty is rivaled, only,
by the blood-soaked skies above
As sunrise adorns with golden beams of healing,
Your brilliant aura astounding all witnessing.
Without doubt, they must behold you—truly,
The art of a master's finest working
Simple are some of life's most precious gifts:
Moments made into memories, never forgotten,
Forever etched upon my soul and into my heart, a carving
Late one night I found myself caught
in the moon's gravitational pull on my heart.
Oh what a weak human, once was I
To be lured by the moon up in the sky.
I thought of myself as a tranquil ocean,
And he the moon, worthy of devotion.
But each time he faltered; when he slipped,
My world grew dark as in a lunar eclipse.
Sad but true, the moon ruled my waves.
Even when I knew he had misbehaved.
Full moon, crescent, or even at quarter,
He disturbed the surface of my still waters.
He stirred my waves to a state of agitation.
No sorrow or regret for his aggravation.
He dared to live high among the stars.
This moon's anger rivaled that of Mars.
I knew he'd never make things right.
So I turned my back upon his light.
No longer tousled by violent storms,
Within my ocean there's only calm.
No more angry words can he bark
The moon grew silent when he grew dark.
An ocean's waves hold a salty brine
So were the whitecaps held on mine.
No more salty tears for him do I cry
For the moon has fallen from my sky.
His gravitational pull has no power
To ever make me tremble or cower.
My tides are balanced in ebb and flow
Because of the seeds I learned to sow.
There's an ocean of faith inside of me.
Without the moon, I'm a tranquil sea.
A deeper bond exists when fears are lifted.
Inhale the chilly air from above; you're gifted.
Trust faith to guide you and free your soul.
God's love fills your senses; you can't control.
The words flow like water over a dam.
Once a class is taught, you won't fail an exam.
Your literary capability remains unrivaled.
Your strength to feed souls is never rivaled.
A disturbed spirit can be soothed by love.
Encourage an eternal vow from above.
You may plunge deeper and surface easily.
Knowing that love is stronger than the sea
I've commuted plenty throughout my life.
And supported a lot of hearts and strife.
Written: May 17, 2023
*Image of Mom Playing at the Church by Family Photo
Pride of Place
Our matriarch, a great musician of sorts,
The piano, her centerpiece, she supports,
Coaching youthful kids even kids in shorts,
Performing at nights at resplendent resorts.
~0~ ~0~ ~0~
She taught the well-to-do to fund her trade,
Still, the piano, the cornerstone she made,
Training those destitute who hadn't paid,
My mom's piano she loved and played.
2022 January 29
*2nd Place*
Pride of Place
~~Julia Ward: Judged 2022 February 09
*Mom was a truly talented virtuoso on a guitar/rivaled Spanish strummers, ukelele and cello, drums, trumpet, flute, horn, tambourine, organ, and YES piano ... to name a few and composer of thousands of compositions.
VIDEO/AUDIO on YouTube above. NOTE: On the video; double-click to enlarge, and/or, right-click for the drop-down menu and click on 'Loop' for auto-repeat.
Best Boy Beyond
Precocious boy, yon ere the age of twelve,
Parades vast knowledge, complexity swelled,
Our simplistic share was well understood,
Kept back of minds, preserves naive childhood.
Green imparts years cherished adolescence,
Bottled, we heed, coupled coalescence,
Errant appendages spark normal steps,
Blessed gifted faculties, as classmates frets.
Removed and placed amongst the elder kids,
Baffled apostles sought entertained bids,
A young mind satisfy matured scholars,
Acquaint the novice school well-spent dollars.
Stands amidst the rare few emboss his name,
An honorary plaque glistens the fame,
Hung in the schools enclosed glass curio,
Caught all cherished moments on video.
Commencement day, he did stand with the rest,
His valedictory speech of years blessed,
Preteen vested had rivaled teenagers,
Acclaimed college exemplary majors.
Evolved above academia's zone,
Ate hamburgers, fries, and an ice cream cone.
2021 March 29
*3rd Place*
A Graduation Blessing
~~BJ Legros Kelley
Her tender, delicate limbs
rivaled a young Magnolia
Her every move, a nuanced sway
Oh, the glory of youth
in its sympathetic day
As age and circumstance
have stayed her dance,
her elegance remains
There’s still the lilt of childlike song
gracing spoken word
And eyes of deep, expressive blue,
still tell you, you’ve been heard
And though, her humbled stature bears
the scar of broken stride
and wheels of fashioned metal
now her slippers have decried,
the beauty of her fragile spirit
still lives
3/16/18
Dedicated to my dear Godmother
Funny how a sound can be so stirring,
so evocative of the past,
of a certain time and place in our lives.
Yet each time I hear the chimes, I am transported.
Once again, my youthful feet traverse the rickety
wooden floorboards of our local “Five and Dime”
buzzing past the coloring books and crayons,
ignoring the buttery invitation of fresh popped corn.
And my destination? It was the little corner,
way in the back.
Back there, I was a million miles away
There, I would find treasures from all over the world,
bright colors in every hue, shiny fabrics,
wooden boxes and my favorite, the wind chimes!
Of Asian design, they were constructed of red metal
rings from which scarlet silk strings dangled hand
painted glass panels. Each one was decorated with
lettering that I thought surely rivaled the proverbs
that I’d find in a fortune cookie!
The last detail was a tiny red tassel,
adorning the bottom of every delicate pane.
And as the perfume of popcorn dissipated, it was
replaced by the exotic aroma of incense from a
far away land. The glow of its burn warmed
the lap of a jade Buddha guarding the top shelf.
When saved pennies allowed the purchase
of my two dollar treasure, it became my
most cherished possession.
Whenever I hear wind chimes, I smell that incense,
I see those red tassels and I feel the breezes that
caressed my back porch and gently crafted
the delightful tune of a childhood memory.
8/20/18
Wind Chimes Poetry Contest
Edward Ibeh
For miles, nothing came remotely close that rivaled her attraction.
No one ever told us, but she looked like some kind of smoke stack,
utilized for burning debris or unwanted materials from the large farm.
We were just poor kids growing up on a large farm, underprivileged and
overworked. If there were child labor laws back then, no one told us.
Perhaps they did not apply to us or maybe no one cared to abide. We were
underserved without playground equipment or even playgrounds for playing sports. Rather than complain about not having a swimming pool, we found creeks and jumped in. The angels must have watched over us, because no one told us about pollution. This is not meant to be a sad poor me story. It's simply a childhood memory, and that tall tower was a great part of that memory. In one sense, she symbolized a place where we took our painful experiences and buried them, a place where we took our bitter lemons, made sweet lemonade and drank to our heart's desire.
Anyway, she was a place of play and fun, and we cared not what she used to be. She stood strong as a high towering giant among midgets-human and other wise. As kids, we never heard nor were ever interested in the 'why or how' of things. We only knew that her services were not only curtailed but totally abandoned.
High up about midway were the imprinted words, 'The Orange Crust' which we came to suspect such was an ad for the 'soft drink'. But really, what was that to us? She did not look the part, but for us, she was a play-station, a get-away, a hide-away. One of our favorite things to do was to yell, holler, and shout at the top of our voices. We only played by day and departed by nightfall. Our little farming community got real dark at night and darker still inside the tower. We had no interest in heroes. Our 'pay-dirt' were the echoes.
072820PS
Serenading voices of snow geese thrum in the morning sky
Unrivaled is the clangor of their echoed gabbles in October
Songs of Fall ride on the wind as russet leaves begin to fly
Unrobed are trees; stripped bare, looking bereft and sober
Ripened are amethyst crops of corn and grains in the field
Rivaled by a soft golden glow of the gibbous harvest moon
Undeniably beautiful, when in October its glow is revealed
Seduced by its romantic luminance, lovers kiss and swoon
On All Hallow's Eve, I see scary costumed trick-or-treaters
Feasting on candy given by generous household greeters
Ode to October, there's a chill aloft, whispering in the air
Conspiring with Mother Nature in such a glorious season
This pleasant month arrives with a stir of festive fanfare
Offering a kaleidoscope of colors, and with good reason ~
Brushes in artists hands paint landscapes of Autumn days
Eagerly, I welcome those dazzling hues that seem to blaze
Rife with splendid riches, I chant October's songs of praise
~ October 2, 2020 ~
Pick-A-Title, Vol 23-Seasonal Acrostic Contest
~ Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh ~
The lady paused, it was not fair
That one should boast such raven hair
And ample breasts so round and flush
On waist an hourglass would blush
The lady paused, her mirror stilled
Reflection froze as her eyes filled
Was she as jealous as the queen
Of Snow White’s beauty, fresh and clean
Ashamed she was of her demise
So what, the girl bore big blue eyes
So what, her color rivaled rose
In every hue love can suppose
The lady paused, so she grew old
Her springtime stories had been told
Her memories were still intact
That raven hair was hers, in fact
Yes, she was jealous of herself
Her youth now pictures on a shelf
Will she find happiness inside
Where ageless beauty can reside