Long Savors Poems
Long Savors Poems. Below are the most popular long Savors by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Savors poems by poem length and keyword.
Sweet butterscotch dew dimples on the lips of daffodils
In flourishing fields fondled by four leaf clover
Each scant spikelet of small white blooms playfully pleasure
Rejoicing with fragrance within this meadow of elation
Full throated birdsongs from summer clad throngs
On painted wings twittering mimics to the joyful muse
Singing...I belong, I belong, I belong
Basking in the beams that blanket with golden warmth
Flittering, fluttering, tittering, shimmering butterfly wings
Catch the amicable air stream gliding to each flush of flowers
While the bustling boom of buzzing bees flaunt and flirt
With tiny tendrils and pistils laden with summer succulence
Marigold marshes pop aloud with a scented stinky snout
While the honeysuckle mingles and clings to save the day
Dragonfly wings scour the sky above the tadpole's glug and splosh
As caterpillars lazily race for the next bite on half-eaten leaves
The standing creek lies bogged with meditative stillness
As it ever recedes ritually to the shallows in the vaporous heat
Filching foamy froth for snapping turtles, water striders and snails
As it belches its murky gases from soggy bottom sludge
This serendipitous splendor of sensuous sparkling soulfulness
This symbiotic symphony of nature's stirring recital repeats
In the eyes that behold, the nose that savors, the ears that revel
The touch that embraces and the heart that remembers...
This Heaven on Earth - This Heartsong!
July 6, 2020
butter flies and marshes mellow Poetry Contest
sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Love to dance with your mind
then as the curtains raise open
I give to you batting lids
this singing note raising tunes
in the highest places
Land of forever young
so wild and carefree
where the butterflies they float in vision
in a galaxy one million miles away
your in my soul's quarters
Offering this sacrifice
silently blowing a gentle hum
on sugar coated echoes
inside angel whispers
silver coating clouds within thoughts
lined with you beautiful
In the shadows one savors your light
seagulls cries mixing with great ocean waves
hauntingly calls on the magic inside lapping
treading onto deep sands
enchanting every single thought
Rippling reflections of a warm sun
gentle with her rays dancing on air
Pushing out this boat
raising destiny's sails
Forever shining regal
glows warm always on the golden sands
inside paradise one dream
crowning you the hearts champion
Mr. Carrot, the talking morning alarm clock making waking up fun.
His loud chimes would shake the ground and woods and wake up the church nuns.
A small pleasure starting with sun-shine and under the ground holding none,
forgetting it's at the farm thinking it's one sweet potato that won.
Black eyed peas eyed Mr. Wigley, curious and asked, "Who you looking at?"
Cedar waxwing with its chest puffed out in heaps, sweet musical and fat
sings a tale of a cat who wiggled its tail;his heart swelled rat a tat tat
on swooning blueberries and cherries under glimmering awning.
Mr. Wigley leans on the sexy pears, tips his hat at sounds playing.
Asparagus, spinach, broccoli, red, green and yellow peppers yell,
"Buy me please!" as he went by. Tomatoes, green beans, and has beens also fell
in line, with the beets, cabbage beat to join in; we'll bring a southern belle
to her knees in a carousel taste delight in a potluck meal spell.
An ultimate decision was made. Mr. Wigley mused deep and hard,
listening to all their prepared flavored tales in the summer farm yard
in hope of just reward, savors an inspirational luscious art.
I will definitely be remaking this again for my sweetheart.
12/16/2017
An oddly-shaped Thanksgiving bird:
quirky
turkey
What we call Grandma's mashed potatoes:
dreamy
creamy
How she adds volume to the main side dish:
fluffing
stuffing
What I always do first:
eat Gram's
sweet yams
Grandpa always slices the Thanksgiving turkey:
Harvest
carvist
Dad always brings a former Monkee's recipe:
Davey's
gravies
Aunt Natasha brings her vegan side dish:
Tash's
squashes
...as does cousin Reginald:
Reggie's
veggies
health-conscious Uncle Theodore is happy:
Ted eats
red beets
Cousin Jeannie brings her specialty:
teen Jean's
green beans
rustic Vern brings gourds from his farm:
bumpkin's
pumpkins
Great Aunt Esther sings an ode to the delicious greens:
salad
ballad
we all love her aesthetically arranged grains:
wild rice
styled nice
Brother Andrew provides chocolates for dessert:
Andy's
candies
Mom is always the last to finish eating:
savors
flavors
What I have after eating too much:
gummi
tummy
Written 20 November 2022
Life does not hand us what we wish for,
it weighs our hands, our scars, our steps,
and offers only what we have earned.
Nothing is promised.
Nothing is guaranteed.
Yet nothing is wasted.
See the laborer, mocked for his patched shoes,
walking home with a day’s wage clutched tight.
To the prince, it may seem crumbs,
to the noble, an insult to dignity
but to him, it is bread for the children,
it is fire in the hearth,
it is proof that the struggle is never in vain.
He does not curse the throne
for feasts he will never taste,
nor drown in envy of golden cups.
Instead, he savors the coin in his palm,
small but honest,
a song of sweat and endurance.
We dream of palaces and crowns,
yet dreams do not fill the belly.
What matters is the road we walk,
the storms we bear,
the battles we dare to fight.
Critics may laugh,
call him common, unworthy
but their laughter cannot stop his harvest.
For life does not bend to desire,
it bows only to grit,
to resilience,
to the hand that refuses to let go.
And when he lays down his weary head,
he carries more than bread
he carries the truth:
that survival belongs not to the richest or the fairest,
but to those who never stop moving forward.
Slowly I knock on your invisible door.
Listening for your cold heart and I wait
The silence comforts me and your heart is asleep
I pick up the invisible glass of your blood
It is drunk slowly as I taste and the savors
I don't have to be quiet but I am a Mime
I should have screwed my silencer on my gun
I wait at your door and hope you will see me
Amidst the shadows like wallpaper I hang
A single tear rolls on my whitened cheek and the glisten
I watch with an incredible ache as he comes in and the sadness
I gladly tap him on his shoulder so we can dance and I long
But I am not noticed and I shudder and yet I keep watch
And the pain
I see you again in the subway as I do tricks and my cup
My faithful cup filled with memories and coins
Coins that i can never use
I have no pockets to keep my feelings in and the coins
I slowly move and bravely part my lips
I gently and silently kiss your sleeping lips but am left bitter
Tomorrow i will do more of the same
Shadows pool in an intimate embrace,
as sunset inks lovers in silhouette.
And two lovers sculpt a stylized beauty—
a synergy formed, before time began.
Twilight's subservient to wishful hearts,
pausing time until it almost stands still.
And floating blissfully in love's aura,
soulmates dive into the depths of their souls.
Indigo pools mirror a tie-dyed sky,
as shifting shadows merge, within the dark.
And enraptured by the allure of love,
each savors the essence of the other.
Twinkling stars confetti the veil of Night,
reflected in a pair of dreamy eyes.
And Dusk lowers an ebony curtain,
upon a magic moment: lost to time.
Introversion, like strengthening integrity,
explores fusing with the Whole
which I associate with ego-death
whether by colonizing encroachments of Other
more powerful,
arrogantly unenlightened,
predators
Or by ego-transmutation
creolization
rebirth
synergetic sacraments
of wedding
bedding
feeding
breeding
loving
win/win compassion
And probably some positive
and negative,
impressive
and repressive,
flavors
and savors
of both varieties
anxiously anticipating ego-degeneration,
Self-emptying
under duress
and surviving chronic depression,
ego critical stress
and chronic trauma events.
Extroversion,
like outflowing exhilaration,
celebrates interdependent individuation
either against
or within
Earth's whole open system
Which I know as ego-augmentation
within a Western straight white male privileged context
of anthro-exceptionalism
MonoTheistically over against EarthTribe's carnal nature
Or
PanenTheistically celebrating ego's EarthMothered
nurtured
holonic spirit
And probably some in and out
positive and negative
Both/And Right hemisphere
and Either/Or Left hemisphere
introverted ego
embracing extroverting ecosystemic interdependence
with indigenous wisdom
of healthy ego
dipolar co-arising
wealthy ecosystemic context
While EitherMe OrWe introversion
without BothMe AndWe
integral holon of EarthTribal view
veers off toward Lose/Lose despair
death
depression
inevitable ecocide
and lack of capacity to thrive,
emergent disinterest in surviving
While extroversion invites sacred out
and inflowing integral Other
into panentheistic win/win play
to grow our humane/divine
interreligious
bicamerally interdependent
Tao wu-wei.
Come close to me and let me
taste your sweetness
As the tip of my tongue
savors your deepness
Let my lips kiss the
softness of your soul
I’ll hold you within my arms
keeping you whole
Softness of my flesh can
quench a thirst and melt
Can you feel my very essence
like yours I’ve felt
Let our hearts truly be free
from only our loving
Will you keep my body
lost and forever blushing
I’ll mend your brokenness
while loving you harder
I will be your loyal shield
you can be the armor
Let me drink in all of your
empty cold darkness
I’ll show you heaven on
earth not the harshness
Undressing you touching
where my lips will kiss
Anticipating I swear to
you will be total bliss
As we lay exhausted within
each other’s arms
I’ll still be there when you
awake from my charms
AUDIO: Vienna Boys Choir, 'Pachelbel's Canon in D Major'
Trees II By Alfred Joyce Kilmer's Admirer
Methinks thus I
shalt naught e'er see,
A poem lovely
as this here tree,
Doth sun thus shine
its countenance,
Gift tree whose loft,
spreads its expanse,
Its girth above,
neath midst remained,
Flicks of light burst,
like windows stained,
The trunk weighs down,
the cradled youth,
Internal weave
exploits the root,
Limbed tree who hath,
purged forth hugged vein,
Thereon, ventures
long with its frame,
Styled tree stabled
in wonderment,
Our learned life begs
our testament,
The tree tilled naught,
nor didst we toil,
Providence hath,
sprung from the soil,
God giveth life,
sips and savors,
Graced from seed thus,
tree He favors,
Seasons race on,
timely fashion,
The Divine hath
shewn compassion,
A poet writes
in praise of trees,
Songs made of these
sweet melodies,
'Tis well-rehearse
endowed in verse,
Fool cool's elbows
and stubbled toes,
A quill at ease
a chapter seize,
Joyce 'Trees' as goes
only He knows.
2020 December 23