Long Satyrs Poems
Long Satyrs Poems. Below are the most popular long Satyrs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Satyrs poems by poem length and keyword.
Let us pray
with soulful lips
from our hearts
to the Spirit Divine;
Let us pray, and let
peaceful solace us
refine: a thirsty mind
quenched only when
remorsefully sipped Christ's
sacrament of sacred wine –
and the bread dipped in,
for the body, without such
transformation, is a ship
gone astray, on a sea
of corrosive brine –
let us pray, and let God
sooth our fears, with
shapes of love and
peaceful contours, raptures
of healing forgiveness –
let us pray, whereby
with Christ's dearness
more our souls securely
align, forsaking the
Devil's enticing satyrs –
restoring blessed light to
a world desperate with shadows –
let us pray, that we trust only
in our Heavenly Father's
guidance when it comes to
man's earth, and all
Life's Spiritual Matters --
accursed creepily haunting
Phantasmagoria wraiths
vandalize residents psyches
within their sleep induced state
Sublimation shunts
slumbering souls
unknowingly held hostage
successfully sacrificing
Semi-smothered silent species
snoring simians steadfastly succumb
subsequent sibilant sounds
woo woebegone wicked transmogrification
dilapidated divested bodies deposited
wizard waves wand
watching whirling wretched lovely bones
whipsawing (in toto) within abyss
whooshing whistling wheezing
whets warlocks appetite wakening
brutish nasty nightmare
sinister hulking spirits
steal assorted corporeal essence
monstrous mashing somnambulant
mephistophelian shadowy satanic satyrs
supremely swallow senior citizen bankers
deep within catacombs
of Highland Manor,
deadened defeated Delphic Oracle
relegates human husks,
viz spent embodiments
to the under world lay siege
sinisterly seeding, via sinister spirits
one pure evil particularly wicked
witch thy capering
sickening ghastly plot against
unsuspecting spouse snatched
parch trey gnarled warty claws.
Your fragrant, smooth, white flesh intoxicates
my senses. Such cool curves! That tumbling hair!
But when I grapple close, those carnal gates
elude me. I'm embracing scented air!
I'm strong, but you are nimble. There you go,
as light and limber as the April breeze,
beyond my grasp - my agile-footed doe,
enticing tail half-seen through tangled trees.
How you can run! Whilst I, half-blind with lust,
lunge in your wake, you - fleet, farouche and fey -
like insubstantial mist, evade my thrust!
Just out of reach, those soft enticements play!
You torture me with longing. And you flee
because you know, this way you'll capture me.
Oh,
The Midnight's Princess is awake!
She who brings light:
Shining upon the greenery of the forest
Penetrating through its coat of darkness
That overshadows joy... and let's fear linger
She who brings joy to all her people,
Sitting upon her cradle of stars.
Her light it is: that kisses each ripple in the lake,
Singing soft lullabies as it sighs in its sleep.
Her light that kisses the Earth with love:
Plants her blessed halo upon its beings,
And fears withdraw from a sleeping child's dream.
Her loving whispered voice, channelled through the prisons of bark,
She who sets all Dryads free:
Gives their freedom to dance free.
And Satyrs with their lutes and flutes,
Elven maidens, Nymphs and Dwarves,
They dance in the light of her grace:
Until the Midnight's Princess's chariot is driven away.
Outside you just see the marquis,
it’s ancient lights all glittery,
amidst a city past it’s prime,
hallmark of a more genteel time.
This was a movie palace once,
now mostly stage, theatric fun,
larger than Broadway’s hallowed grounds,
though it’s the only stage around.
Old New York has dozens of plays,
here just one means a special day,
the touring shows, when they come here
will always make the locals cheer.
The women like the musicals,
and a date night that’s eventful,
the men don’t get it, but they come
for ‘rewards’ from girlfriends when done.
That’s why I’m sitting in this seat,
enrapt woman right next to me,
the singing makes me roll my eyes,
but more often than not I find
that even if the play does bore
the theater itself is much more:
Gold chandelier perched up above,
casts light on painted gods of love
who frolic on ceiling plaster,
with eyes of cut alabaster,
above the stage, an ancient scene,
fawns and satyrs, a Grecian dream,
and gilt patterns around the sides,
just beyond where the curtain slides,
marble pillasters flank the stage,
frame the pit where orchestras play,
fancy seats with curving armrests,
splendid cushions in velvet dressed,
there’s opera boxes up above,
but I just do not make enough.
In pressed white shirts and vests ornate
the ushers stand ready and wait,
a pipe organ warmed up the crowd,
harmonic tones of richest sound.
It seems something from days long gone,
shines light on where the world’s gone wrong,
No post-modern black box so stark,
No building thrown up without heart,
But something built up to proclaim
that beauty should never be tamed,
even if Broadway makes me groan,
this building is art cut from stone.
Of course, I don’t say this to her,
she wants theater, not architecture,
but it’s what I appreciate
when dragged out on just such a date.
Once upon a time in an alluring place
Flourishing realm sweet with seasons showers pace
The earth food for life the lush greenness embrace
Array of flowering plants that twirl and lace
Birds twittered on leafy branches full of grace
Rare butterflies with wide, vibrant wings took chase
Bobbing on the breezeless air they dare through space
Charmed fairies if you gaze close into their face
They sniffed the air scared to be spotted they’ll race
Satyrs played pan flutes others danced everyplace
While others sang a phrase carrying a mace
“Steady my heart; scented blooms cannot unlace
The beauty of your face I cannot erase”
Dare venture down a well-trod maze; rocks retrace
Your way back dazed so be prepared just in case
2/13/2017
Poetry Contest: Monorhyme
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Oh muse of mirth,
in your spirit,
I'll raise my goblet
to satyrs students,
weaving music
to honour Bacchus,
so we can rejoice
in the virgin dawn
of the new sun.
Youth is not my friend,
so grant me one wish -
for chalice of time
to bless me with joy,
days of cheer,
nights of divine
moonlight melodies.
This heart's theatre
yearns to perform on
serenity's stage
with sincere comrades,
composing songs where
each symphonic stroke
creates memories
as sweet as wine,
where verses echo
like Apollo's art.
No matter what
tomorrow brings
I'll keep smiling
till the party ends.
You are born to dance with the wind,
veiled within a circle of oak’s trees,
Half-dressed by moving shadows,
Half-exposed by bold daylight.
Jasmines by the left side, dandelions by the right side
dancing together with you, nymphs, satyrs and sprites.
The melody luring a brown bird,
Silent with cautious veneration,
advances over valleys and hills
until reaching the sea shore.
Beauty framed you with Music, Beauty will gird
you in a bower, close is the night of your coronation.
My eyes follow as you move
Spiraling between my fingertips,
Sweet scented boon of Spring
Meet the dwelling of my spirit,
You will last less than a day, you will last less than love
but is there a fancier grave to lay than her smiling lips?
Form:
Can you envision us lost in a world
of ours; paradise built by the Gods
just for us two? Would you taste with me
a delectable slice of heaven?
Picture us astride upon satyrs...
exploring a mythical, enchanted land, drifting
our way across it like dandelion seeds.
Perchance we'd gambol about the verdure
with carefree abandon, tasting freedom
with salivating tongues as we shout "Olé!"
Perchance we'd take flight with the faeries
and hum a tune from nightingales, or just lie
in delightful tranquility beneath a weeping willow,
swept off by a soothing breeze. Or we could just
quietly bask in the bright midday sun!
Can you imagine passionate kisses
under a cascading waterfall with a rainbow
hovering right above it? Can you imagine us
lying on a swinging hammock gazing at
diamonds littered in skies of blackboard?
Can you imagine these embarrassment
of riches? Let's take this great adventure!
Let us discover the true meaning of bliss!
Baby, close your eyes
and meet me...
in Avalon!
Can You Imagine - Any Form Poetry Contest(Winner 1st Place)
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date written: 01/23/2021