Long Roosted Poems
Long Roosted Poems. Below are the most popular long Roosted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roosted poems by poem length and keyword.
blue irds roosted on the top of the moon
Listening to the good witch as she gave a croon
Her two magical mystical familiars sitting still as bats
Which is not so unusual for these ebony cats
What is she doing? one bird asked the other.
He never guesses first, wants this to be his brother.
Shh! The other bluebird hissed, watching carefully.
The good witch began to chant and pour elixir with glee.
Hither and Bither, Smither and Bob.
This magic elixir should well do the job.
This polluted brook should be as good as new.
Thriving on fresh water and love in a day or two.
Pouring health and goodness into the brook
She then gave the moon a wink, and quickly off-shook.
Her familiars followed her to the next polluted lagoon.
And the sky retrieved the light of the crescent moon.
Himbuggles and Shimbuggles, what is this I see?
The chanting continued from the good witch Carolyn Lee.
Giggles and Gaggles, I need more goodness to pour.
So I can next give this lagoon a marvelous restore.
On a dusky evening long time ago,
When shadows huddled at every corner,
When rain had gone and birds had roosted,
You held me close and whispered in my ear;
“In your eyes I see, the blue of the sky,
In your soul, you hold the depth of the seas,
Love swells, like tides on rise,
My life, I vow, by Jove, never to part”
Your voice, like a tremulous rivulet gurgled,
We stood staring at each other in a warm embrace.
With passion sweet, your eyes glowed.
Like a blue lagoon, they were deep and peaceful.
On your dimpled cheek, a kiss I planted,
A gesture warm with abiding love.
Crisscross lain as warp and weft,
We hoped to weave the garb of life.
Words and deeds that served as balm to the soul!
Still, they repeat, gushing a flurry of thoughts,
But alas! To a far unknown land you fled,
‘From whose bourn, no traveler returns’,
My life has moldered and mildew grown,
Where my Love! Whither have you gone?
Who bid you slink into death’s secret hide?
Why left me to languish in a world of shadows?
Seasons roll and years glide,
Youth has withered and memory fails,
Now I wander through a dim shadowy world.
I feel so trapped and lonely, as twilight grips.
Like embers flickering low, yet stocked by the breath of fire,
I hope, we shall meet one day at the Golden gate,
Where no shadows shall lurk and time shall stay eternal
And silence sparks the language, the ears want to hear.
_______ _____________ _______
When rain is gone and sky gets clear,
When night turns deeper and silence creeps,
I transverse back to that dusky eve,
To retrieve those moments, I sadly cherish!
Silver moonlight dappled the forbidden fruit of Eden’s boughs
even as songbirds roosted alongside the serpent’s beguiling tongue.
His whispers echoed angelic refrains, lulling the forgetful.
Agency is power; granted only to gods, and choice is choice above all.
One juicy bite, deliciously self-empowering, changed everything.
The potency of a moment is found in the consequence of an impulse.
The power of time’s march is realized in throes of loss remembered.
Yet a clap of thunder bears tardy warning to one struck by a bolt,
and at my core, I am overwhelmed with the power granted me,
to alter, in small ways, the woven fabric of tomorrow’s reality.
So take my hand, and let us march together over that horizon.
May you, in hard times, support, encourage and remind me in my weakness
that our strength in darkness is found not in heaven, nor in ourselves,
but in remembrance of yesterday’s sunshine, and last night’s lullabies
which carried us peacefully through the unseen horrors of night.
From the mountain’s summit, as we gaze tomorrow by hopeful starlight,
watching the sky fall around us, swallowing up the remnants of today,
I beg pardon for my trembling soul, withering under the burden
to shake off the comfortable, and to forge anew the coming dawn
by force of will and careful expression of thoughtful introspection.
For it is potential, not reality, upon which heaven smiles eternally;
viewing through the lens of perfect-love our imperfections.
Even an hour before the devil fell, God thought him beautiful in Heaven,
yet in a moment, by agency, endowed in grace by God to his children,
a prince became a whispering serpent flecked with moonlight.
Might it be, that to fall from grace,
we need simply forget the weight of agency's burden?
Might it be, that to rise from a fall,
we need simply remember, and choose for ourselves a new reality?
Might it be, that God thinks the devil beautiful still?
2/20/16
Inspired by, but not written for, the contest, "Expand Arthur Miller's Thought," hosted by Julia Ward.
Tropical quadra plateau, Amazing bright sunny,
Glided waterfall Carrying happiness in their gunny.
Long nodding flower's joyously plumed,
Everbody waving happily, the herald bloomed.
Eureka, I love this heaven on earth!
Hazy perished hills, houses trenching at the outskirts,
Swaning over to the fluctuating peak of mountains, roosted with struts.
Orchid waftured, Clinging on to the cluster of flowers,
Precipitated rain was about to shower.
Gosh, it Stimulated my soul!
King of beast, sucking the sweet tempting fragranced juices,
Solitary alienate species including Honey bees mused badly abuses.
Fluttered wings, Struggling with them, Leisurely travelling my journey.
Fitnessed physically as if I am in an defensing army.
Situation turned to be horribly muddle,
Tremendously, I wanted to sort and excitedly cuddle!
Proud to have an Airfoiled wings of mine,
Antennate feature you prissily shine.
Rainbowis passion lying inside me,
Resourcefully mingled with music and dance, happening besides me.
Whoa,People got entranced!
People jeopardize the innate beauty,
Relishingly wanna do my duty.
Actuating my arms, Ventured to fly high.
Intended inspiration wanted to reach the sky.
Weaving the web spiderman thirstily trying me to catch.
Escaping from them I ran, prevented myself from getting snatched.
Ohhh,They had a Hostile faction accord!
Nature's beauty aspiringly propelled me.
Blowing wind, tactily sensisizing my skin,
Blushing cheeks, spilled the bean.
Nocturnal creatures will wake in the dark,
Aerophilically dangling around the shruby bed,before they bark
Stopping by sayonara, continuing my next stigmatic destiny!
By Madhavi
Crawling through the dirt trying to get back to my perch,
where I once sang so free and acted happily
in the sunshine of my life things were really going well.
A fall from broken wings, I fell into the dust,
choking there at first waiting for your help.
But wait was all I did whilst no assistance came my way.
For months I struggled on, surviving day to day,
too proud to beg and borrow I scavenged like a dog.
But soon I found the strength to crawl out from the gutter.
I fought for life, to thrive, avoiding vices in my way
and built a ladder to help me from the pit I'd fallen in.
Now I'm back upon a higher perch than I've ever roosted on.
I'm now singing of success, not striving to get by
and feeling so much stronger for my time down in the dumps.
But for those I met, still there, I save a little prayer.
I encounter ebbs and flows, a peaceful solace sigh.
Wedged on the cusp of a cliff to endeavor a descry.
I'm heading somewhere to ascertain a fair minding.
Although I've ultimately arrived, I'm still screeching.
We will fit along if we stow away or are helpless.
Those that have grasped the peak by lying guiltless.
We are unfazed to be adept at subduing our dismay.
We've been flung indoors and out for the hazy day.
Into the void, slumped over with crucial sickness.
I'm shouting shrilly into the chasm of nothingness.
Roosted on edge high over the ozone layer.
Where the ambient sound enshrouds a slayer.
We've sobbed, and tears wrapped up swarming.
The receptiveness and plights may be terrifying.
Barbarously bequeath us up owing to our civic grace.
Implicating the harsh rhetoric not to eagerly embrace.
I shout into the darkness, infusing it with pain.
Until the spikes break and the hinge strain.
Since I'm aware, I can reveal my astute mind.
I expect someone to endorse me, to be twined.
We need to decipher how we will sagely shepherd.
Our pyretic youngsters, denied by the ruling, tethered.
Rather than prevailing, they board a void of a subsidy.
They are shadows and abettors in this gnarly debility.
1st place contest winner
Written: December 06, 2021
Pick-A-Title, Vol 27 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
12/5/20
Better choose quick
Just might lose if
You don't do it
Awesome or a nuisance
It either was or wasn't in the blueprints
Still a loner, or already shot by Cupid's
Arrow, underneath a sky that is moonlit
They spread lies, but the truth is
Staying sharp or a doofus
Handy or useless
In a world that can be merciful or ruthless
Just a baby, or a fully grown "Toothless" (Dragon)
(How quickly people bandwagon)
Pleasant or putrid
Humble or full of hubris
Intact or uprooted
In the open or secluded
A lack of energy and motivation, or being boosted
The body reconstituted and mind rebooted
Being wise or foolish
Already hinted and alluded
People can be so stupid
Always they feuded
And often hooted
Worried about who did
What, then they quickly brooded
Time has proved it and exuded
Just one of many things I've concluded
Sad that so many have been unjustifiably prosecuted
Got the juice or electrocuted
Problems remaining or getting troubleshooted
Getting it done or roosted
Giving up or continuing when rerouted
Getting nowhere or commuted
A life of hardship or of being undisputed
Drinks that are strong or diluted
The volume turned up or muted
Became friends with a druid
Never once tooted
His own horn, or made excuses
In a lifeboat all alone at sea
the mariner stopped paddling
against the current stream
and waited for a sign
an island could be near.
He longed to see a coconut tree
or mountain, to break the monotony
of endless lines of nothingness
on the horizon.
But, he knew he had to do better
than wait for an island to pop up
like a puppet on strings.
What if he drifted past his last hope island
that passed by in the stream, just below the
horizon and he missed it?
Surely he could read the early warning signs!
So he thought, about what they could be.
An island nearby would change the wave pattern
by refraction, so he watched the waves intently
to look for any changes.
An island would change the cloud or sea mist pattern at dawn,
do he took careful note of the clouds.
Perhaps the birds that roosted on the island,
made foraging flights over the surrounding sea
would fly over head as a sign.
He watched for birds.
He looked for flotsam and jetsam,
when the sea was calm,
that could have floated off
a nearby island at high tide.
He had a plan to make the little things work
to proactively find an island.
Rather than to sit back and wait passively
to maybe bump headlong
into an island and to be
washed ashore, and saved.
All alert, and on the ball,
he waited for a sign,
any sign an island was near,
that he could paddle towards
and find his island in the stream.
When I glanced out my window on this bleak December morn,
My eyes were drawn to the Ponderosa Pine standing so forlorn.
Gradually, as if decorated by God's own Artistic Hand,
'Twas soon bedecked with colorful ornaments so very grand!
Its boughs were adorned by garlands of snow in jeweled display.
Crystal icicles glistened as no mere artist could e'er portray.
Clusters of golden cones festooned the tree here and there.
I watched in wonder as it began to assume a festive air!
What was just moments ago a tree, brooding and austere,
Was soon alive with critters that chose to winter here.
Cheerful robins added a spritz of color with their scarlet breasts.
Haughty blue jays flitted about flaunting their bluish crests!
A couple of squirrels sprawled upon a branch lazily a-snooze.
Cardinals and bluebirds roosted there adding their delightful hues.
Flitting finches and chickadees graced the tree without cease.
At the very top perched a dove - that beautiful symbol of peace!
What a wonderful transformation I witnessed in that stalwart tree!
I'd like to think that the Creator decorated it just for me!
As I gazed upon the scene, my soul was filled with jubilation,
Marveling at the miracle of Christmas and God's wondrous Creation!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
On a soggy dusk, long time ago,
When shadows huddled at every corner,
When rain had gone and birds had roosted,
You held me close and whispered in my ear;
“In your eyes I see, the blue of the sky,
In your soul, you hold the depth of seas,
Love swells, like tides on rise,
My life, I vow, by Jove, never to part”
Your voice, like a tremulous rivulet gurgled,
We stood staring at each other in a warm embrace
With passion sweet, your eyes glowed.
They were like a blue lagoon, deep and peaceful
On my dimpled cheek, a kiss you planted,
A gesture warm with abiding love.
Crisscross lain as warp and weft,
We hoped to weave the garb of life.
Words and deeds that served as balm to soul!
Still, they echo, gushing a flurry of thoughts,
But alas! To a far unknown land you fled,
‘From whose bourn, no traveler returns’,