Long Saturates Poems
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THE PROVERBS 31 WOMAN
Blessed is the man who finds her.
The virtuous woman's heart shines as a star,
Her price is incomparably far above rubies
Her virtues dance like flowers in the breeze,4
She rises before the sun with purpose in heart,
A fountain of strength, a masterpiece of art.
Her hands, diligent, weave threads of care,
Creating an enviable life is radiant and fair.8
Her beauty is not only skin deep,
Yet due to its ravishness, you can't skip.
Her words as honey, flow with wisdom & grace,
Guiding her household with a gentle embrace.¹²
She tends to her family, her love so profound,
Nurturing their spirits, her care resound.
Her hospitality is sufficient & goes round,
It saturates and infuses the whole compound.¹6
Her kindness reaches far and wide,
Extending her beautiful charm & mind,
she walks with elegance in her stride.
She's a pillar of support in times of joy or strife,
And she beautifies her loved ones' lives.²¹
With wisdom & humility, she leads with grace,
Leaving a trail of love & joy in every place.
She cares for the widow and the poor,
Her compassion & generosity, an endless store.²5
She embodies strength, a warrior at heart,
Facing life's challenges, she plays her part.
Celebrate the Proverbs 31 woman-divine,
Her beauty, wisdom, and character intertwine.²?
For she is a scriptural inspiration to us all,
A testament to the power of love & its eternal call.
There's a lot to learn from this gracious teacher.
Blessed is the man who finds her.³³
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
Copyright ©? December 2023.
Written February 04, 2025, For contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
Quote: Let the vintage box gather dust; it seems like no one will ever open it or discover it. By Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unseal all that unscathed trove of
treasured stories,
where the sweet fragrance of rejuvenating
Petrichor soaks the atmosphere.
A captivating aroma saturates
the serene and radiant
space of the attic.
whispers of memories linger
in every nook
where neglect softly nestles.
Gentle whispers of tales emerge from
a soothing sanctuary
seamlessly woven together.
Wicker wonders once filled with warmth,
now stand still,
cloaked in contemplative musings
that meander quietly by.
Revitalized by luminous, enchanting nights,
they bask in the brilliance
of the extraordinary stars above.
In the den, the resonance of
ancestral wisdom persists.
Graceful faces are captured in
the gentle passage of time.
Stories of celebration and
joyous laughter is woven together—
Imprints on lives marked by,
both strength and restraint.
With sorrow unearthed,
from this timeworn attic,
epiphany unfurls amidst,
despair and anguish—a beacon.
Fossils of joy cradle
our suffering when,
memories surge forth,
akin to an unrelenting tide.
Oxygen saturates the skies breathing fresh air in my lungs and helium resting on my shoulders beckoning the universe to come. You can see hydrogen running down the street with pressure mounting in its knees and two atoms fasten together to solve the oracle before summer.
Formula O is standing strong with oxides buried beneath the earth’s crust, the animals depend on it and human cannot live without it. The plants cannot survive if they don’t get it. Formula O is getting scarce as the heat is raging in the atmosphere, respiration has come to a standstill and the sun is burning up all the beautiful daffodils.
N2 the diatomic gas filling the atmosphere with all that it’s got. Plenty of it is found in the solar system and sometimes it makes the lights grow dim. You can find plenty of it in the Milky Way and you can find it screaming in your DNA; the RNA has it too and it saturates in energy deducted from molecule.
I can see the cycle moving in the atmosphere and the birds are running around in despair, the sun is casting shadow on the ground, you have to know which path to run.
Ammonia acid, organic nitrates and cyanides, containing nitrogen is shouting from the cockpit and nitric acid, is waiting for you at the boarding gate so get the grey hound, the Caine, German Shepherd, Border Collie, Belgian Milionis, and Labrador Retrievers at the boarding gate before it is too late.
No confusion or disruption just gets a team of unmarked security to conduct this operation and disconnect the cords discreetly.
Many compounds are erected from the ground and industrial fertilizer is all around; they pollute the water system, block your drain and are causing pain but the tranquil skies are smiling at me.
The tranquil sky is releasing good amounts of energy so absorb it before it is fades; remove the obstacle and get rid of the debacle, and when the day is done you and I will have fun, when you throw your ring in my “cap” that will be a wonderful plot.
The fog clears as we hear the,
War cries in the distance,
In our crisp new grey uniforms.
They tell us of the ideology,
That propels us to war.
Our eyes have been shielded,
By their lies, and we believed them as,
We were lambs being led to the slaughter.
But our women and children,
Are the true victims of war.
Iron blades thrusting deep into our bodies,
While feeling the searing pain in our hearts.
I lay on the ground as I heard the blood drip,
From the bodies of my brothers.
Their blood saturates the ground,
Cursing all of us in the future.
We continue to have nightmares of the unforgiving,
In the hallowed ground of a cursed nation.
The horror of war brings the reality,
Of pain, death, and the cruelty,
Of a torn nation that.
Will be felt for decades.
One day in the future,
All men will be created equal,
Not by the color of their skin,
But the intelligence of their mind.
This is when we will begin to heal as a nation.
Yet, 158 years later, in 2023, the Supreme Court,
Has to remind us that all men are created equal.
Hot sun-kissed days--- fled and rolled far away. . . .
Crisp coolness saturates air
Brink to life and decay?
Pumpkins so yellow; melons so mellow
Gnomes appear; fat harvest fills
Crown AUTUMN: queen of year!
Dancing wind ~ jazzy blows, leaves on branches. . . .
Rainbow shower foliage
Trumpet dazzle of death?
(c)Olive Eloisa
7:14pm
June 17, 2014
CONTEST NAME: 1 in 4: Choose your Season, Choose Your Form
SPONSOR: ANDREA DIETRICH
placed 6th .. :D
** made little change to my third line after judging to correct the wrong syllable count.. :D!
.
sumptimez
winter revealz wonderful
whilst
thuh sun saturates
the listless dust
thirsty roots
purty stonez
pretty
habilitize'd
flower
sumptimez
mine longz for
thuh vernal
peeky sun'z ray
propagating earth
thankful roots
glister'n stonez
splendiferous
habituate'd
flower
sumptimez
rain comez
whenever
Cauze'n glister
Mine duke's frenetic
Grip
fill'n mine gullet
wit
that stainless'
wet
'to mine
smirk
(Inspired by Glenn Hudges song " Shake The Ground")
I look out for you in emptiness day and night
for a long while you’re out of my sight
my heart throbs with the tune of yearning pure
my essence embraces your graceful allure
Your attracting footprints have faded, but I follow
to the fervent destination of desire I know
where with the ardor of my love I envelop you
to turn into burning ember of craving anew.
I feel I’ve plunged into fathomless void wary
while the broken sky falls around me
but I see your charisma the new sun rays bring
make for me the colorful collage of longing.
In the sunburst horizon drenched by hued shower
dreamy dawn blossoms like the spring flower
the golden aura makes the diamond dew glow
that flashes like your smile in my meadow.
I’m submerged in your love, I want to tell you
I float on cloud nine, you’ve no clue
I’m not tired of wandering in wasteland so long
your love for me is forever, don’t get me wrong.
When I look at the depth of your eyes
my heart pulsates with a new rhythm I surmise
my soul absorbs the spirit of sincerity
saturates my senses with the feeling of ecstasy.
On the outskirts of a long-abandoned country town
beyond the crumbling headstones and elmwood trees
is mounted a dark dismal figure of what used to be
a scarecrow whose limbs flail in Autumn's breeze
Hung as if crucified, his death was never mourned
The creature decayed in the midst of a barren field
Fallow lies the ground he once so boldly protected
Nigh on twenty years since wheat crops gave yield
Poor beast, with innards of grayed moss and twigs
Tenebrous, the moldy growth on his stygian face
as fog encroaches to shield me in the shadows of night
He's a monolith of death, staked in this cursed place
Darkness saturates the clouds and shrouds the moon
Comes the North wind, and a caw... caw... cawing sound
A murder of crows take flight over the wretched scene
Where once reigned a Sovreign who was never crowned
Does the Sea
Suffuse...
Does the Sea
Perfuse...
the sponge?
Slipping, sidling
in:
the Great Outbreath
of the far forgot shore;
so small now as to be
Unimaginable,
upwells in swells the
Entirety of this sea -
and heaves these easy seas
from shore to shore
as
sure as the moon’s dim
light is gasped over
when its wax is over -
when full; when only moonlight
lights the matte blacknight.
Does the Sea,
enter, entirely,
the sponge
and, in doing
so
forget itself?
Does the Sea,
in its Perfusion
forget itself?
Does the Sea believe itself to be
a sponge?
Or does the see,
take up a demonym?
Or does the Sea remain the Sea
no matter no matter
no matter how
fully
it inhabits, it saturates, it permeates
the Sponge?
For that matter,
does the sponge,
in being infilled wholly by
the Sea, believe itself to be
The Sea?
A marionette to the mind,
Whispering fading schematics,
Deluging the heart and soul, in a
Juxtaposition of good and evil,
Betwixt Heaven and hell, amidst
Snowdrifts that swirl before my eyes, while
Spiritless shadows restlessly carouse;
Discordantly, far from reach,
Vagrantly ambling across
Deadened Arcadias, glimpsing
Floating embers, in wake of
Vivid firestorms, swallowing me whole,
Faltering with every step I take,
Decelerating towards the escape I seek,
As it rhythmically scars my timorous nature,
Awakening the monsters hidden deep within-seeing red-
Bleeding out miasmic toxins, as noxious
Spores erupt, immersed in a haze of austerity,
While it seeps and saturates, throughout
Malignant wounds exposed, undulating between
The storms of push and pull, as daunting
Tasks, of rippling sequences, splits my
Chasmic core.
Soulless footprints are all that remain, as
Moon tides wash ashore, ebbing away
Towards dystopian depths.