Long Rivulet Poems
Long Rivulet Poems. Below are the most popular long Rivulet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rivulet poems by poem length and keyword.
Rambling across the grassy flowering meadow,
She felt like walking on air, as she flipped off her shoes,
She ran across, feeling the dewy fresh morning grass,
All dotted with a kaleidoscope of colourful wildflowers.
She came down to the rivulet, her favourite place.
Instinctively she looked into the water just to see
Her face floating on the surface, a lovely smiling face
No wrinkles, no defects, not even a nevus to mar it all up.
Her lover sat down near her, showing her the food he brought.
She had not thought of eating and pulling him down
She kissed him full on his inviting lips, her Adonis.
Love was her food, her only food, as she felt the burn in her.
At last satiated, she laid down and put her head on his lap
Dreaming incredible scenes of luxurious, and joyful love.
8 0 8
Two doctors were discussing her case. They looked at the old badly wrinkled woman lying on the bed, immovable. “Only that machine is keeping her alive. Irreversible Coma. No next of kin, single and all alone. Look, do you detect a smile on her face? Even her ECG is barely showing signs of being alive.”
“It seems as if she’s dreaming.”
The other one shrugged. “It’s not for us to decide. The Hospital Lords will decide who will switch her off, rest assured.”
“Let’s go for a drink. We need one.” Rambling along the long corridors, they found a hospital canteen, ordered their drinks, and rested at a table on comfortable chairs,
Written: May 15, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
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I’m neither harmonious nor a hidden hymn
Who said I'm wedded to whimsy, lilac looks?
to all those who gifted me
countless worries through the years.
Simply silhouettes in my rear—view mirror.
I sail past rhyming reefs,
of my quest faintly reflecting
Why should I let them define me anymore?
I make mistakes; so what?
my heart is full of love and ambrosian words—
it shines with rhapsody.
my hands can heal amidst the severest pain.
my mind envision cures
for sparkling vanilla—algae tears.
Tidal teals whisper tales that truly transform.
Despite doubts in glittering, grape-colored gales,
I'll face them as the north star kisses the sea.
I will rise and face them head on,
while history hisses at my heels.
I'll sustain my anxieties for what they are — illusions
with a clairvoyant cape and rivulets unraveled
what matters is now
what matters is my striving
what matters is the rise
toward rebellious rainbows
and what I require,
as a necklace of seashells
worn and stained with sepia
a dewdrop from a wandering bead
born in somewhere deep and deep in valley
asking the reason why he has to be born
dyed blue
in a moon
light
and thinking of the meaning of life
looking up at the countless stars
the dewdrop driven by the early morning sunbeam
that came climbing up the wall from the other side
of the rugged mountain came to a spring
being formed from misty beads and dews
that were born at dark of the night
and flow as a rivulet for the place somewhere in an unknown lowland
although a water bubble the transformed dewdrop drifts in the gathered waters
to a destination unknown
there was a springtime after cold shivering winds of the days
and ice to stand still for a while
because it carried time with it
and that was why birds twittered from the treetop
along side of a flowing water
then summer came with big strides
accompanying clouds side by side
throwing hot air to kill a cicada burned alive
under thick green tree leaves shrilling chirrup
and for nothing would permit water to stop or pause
no matter how wearisome is the water
it has to flow ceaselessly as if it's the water’s destiny
and while doing so
a reddened dead leaf falls on the water
and comes along with the water to the mouth of the river
where you’ll see the waves clasp with the edge of sky
at yonder horizon the great water the home of a dewdrop
born in one moonlit night
" (Two roads) diverged in a yellow wood and I choose the
the one less traveled by and that has made
all the difference. "
Quote by - Robert Frost
Ha... ha... have your rabbits got three legs? Okay we agree,
This was how my friends fooled me for my ways uniquely free;
When all answered, I' am fine - for the question 'how are you?'
I said: Alright or keeping well... though these meant the same too;
They stopped a bit; looked unblinking; as though something was wrong,
Don't, yet, birds of every species has a divergent song...?
Does, when a rivulet diverges from the river, rebel?
Can an inaccurately rung Angelus turn death-knell?
To turn a rebel a rivulet should chose her own path,
On such choosing she might, sure, earn many a rotten wrath;
Could any seed, frightened of death, ever resuscitate?
Could any chick failing to spread wings reach the flying state...?
Taking a new path is like Socrates choosing hemlock,
Nay, choosing an untrodden path is not such a deadlock;
Thinking out of the box or looking through another glass,
It's when I say a grass or lass an ass death comes, alas!
Discovery and invention, lo, stand in united,
Yet, to shake hand with a person, uniquely far-sighted...!!!
08 June 2024
Hush, the nightingale is asleep on the broken tree branch:
What can a nightingale dream on the wildness?
Maybe he dreams with a golden cage and a princess
or with a rapid rivulet moving by a little ranch -
All that is dreamed will be explained by his melody.
So, let’s make silence stay and be the house’s guest:
Bring him to sit at dinner’s table and serve the food
while the sky is dark and the wind walks in the wood.
We keep waiting for the end of the nightingale rest:
he may open his wings to leave or maybe sing an ode.
Tomorrow we will know, after the sunrise if our wait
was just a new day or if nature rewarded our faith.
Form:
‘Twas on a morning brisk and airy
I met a creature big and hairy.
It glowered at me, and I at it.
I was not afraid, not one small bit.
Its eye was crookedly turned all askew.
From its nose escaped ghoulish-green goo.
A wat’ry rivulet down its cheek.
“It needs a tissue. It looks quite bleak.”
My proffered handkerchief it did take.
Blowing its nose made the sidewalk quake.
It took a moment and looked at me
with a grim grimace, or gleeful glee.
We nipped pleasant words and parted ways.
A morn to remember for always.
We tipped our heads in courteous nod.
Away it turned and away it plod.
This tale is so insanely absurd,
to this day all the details are blurred.
I scarce should repeat it now and then
that I am lumped with demented men.
But for the creature’s courteous bow
It meant no ill will, I know that now.
And when I am asked if I believe,
a brave and bold front I shall achieve.
I shan’t retell the tale of itself,
choosing to keep the tale to myself.
If it returns and it should see me
I’ll smile and definitely pleased be.
After a short run
The road takes a diversion :
A curvilinear path.
Throwing a long lush green shadow,
The woods devoid of sorrows
Invites the heavy down power.
I peep into my heart
Behold a guy of five-six years old
Collecting withered Sheuli flowers
A paper-boat floats on the rivulet of rain water.
I startle to see
The boyhood days is still kept
On the self of my mind
Swings Oleander
In your ears – a pair of beautiful ear-rings.
As I’m walking along this road
All that we enjoyed,
All that we felt.
During our salad days
When we were swimming
In the Whirlpool of love,
All that takes the shape of Cyclonic storm
Approach all of a sudden,
Falls on the land of frustration:
You were one day sitting under the shadows
Of prop roots of past – thy age-old banyan tree.
Within an eye-wink staying
You filled my heart
With horripilation of spring
I am enraptured.
Thousand clouds float across my sky of despair
I see
An Oasis on rugged desert !
I crossed
The woods devoid of sorrows
Kept the sportive land far away back.
Now I’ve kept my sturdy feet
On the moor of unknown herbs.
I am encircled by the realm of Orchids
I imprison the mountain
The woods, the known-unknown flowers
In the camera of my curious eyes!
I forget myself, my soul
Forgets my existence.
In the current of magnificent colors
Me-thinks, you have come
Floats on my heart as Sheuli flower
Flows as if impulse in my nerve
Plays hide and seek in my blood!
After a short run
You take a diversion
Leave me for good
You’ve forgot me.
The Sheuli flowers, the paper-boat
The woods devoid of sorrows-all lost!
Picked-up Sheuli flowers of boyhood days
All that I try to recollect
Now pictures on the walls of your prejudice!
They swing as if they’re worthless calendars!!
You have already crossed
The shadows of prop-roots
Of that ancient banyan tree
I am spell-bound!
I am snared into an illusion of colored Orchid:
I never thought of it as more than a side stream
a rivulet of minor proportion and influence
until the miracles and blessings appeared
always about me and more and right now
centre of the universe deserved pole position
up to the time disaster struck hard and fast
today I have resolved to take nothing for granted
am grateful for the privilege of being alive
for food water sheltered abode and love in abundance
an inner war has abated and peace has arrived
sobriety in body mind soul and great spirit
grant me the vital force of existential existence
what cannot be changed I am able to accept
that which can be I try to alter and amend
and I am beginning to know the difference
in the here and now of today
I am thankful to feeling gratitude
now life flows on its own appreciation
In every plant that grows, God's work, I attend,
In every flower that blooms, God's art, I observe,
In every fruit that ripens, God's mercy, I witness.
In every animal that moves, God's energy, I detect,
In every bird that flies, God's grace, I note,
In every fish that swims, God's alacrity, I remark.
In every valley there is, God's beauty, I admire,
In every hill that stands, God's loveliness I adore,
In every mountain that rises, God's grandeur I revere.
In every cloud in the sky, God's intention, I recognize,
In every drop of rain, God's purpose, I spot,
In every storm that rages, God's fury, I discover.
In every brook, in every rivulet, in every river, God's concern, I distinguish,
In every pond, in every lagoon, in every lake, God's care, I ascertain,
In every sea, in every wave, in every ocean, God's determination, I confirm.
In every man that I meet, God's reflection, I see,
In every sound I hear, God's melody, I enjoy,
In every caress I receive, God's blessings, I sense.
There is nothing,
There was nothing, and
Nothing will ever be without,
God's volition and planning,
For
God is the eternal creator, the soul of the cosmos,
Thus
He is Omnipresent and Omnipotent.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
26 March 2026
Great eagerness in the pursuit of wealth, pleasure, or honor, cannot exist without sin. - Desiderius Erasmus
Three rumbustious good friends
Wealth, Pleasure and Power
Took a break from their
Busy lives and went to a forest
To spend a free fun day together
They were startled to see
A hut, laid back, hidden
In pristine green, a
Flowing rivulet played harmonics
As tall trees swayed just to breathe fresh air
A wise couple lived there
With eerie quietude -
Truth and Happiness
Little needs kept them away riches
And Loss never crossed their path ever
A heavenly retreat
Yet, the hut's calmness choked
The three merry friends
Who left eagerly like hurried thieves
While the couple felt safe and relieved