Long Savours Poems
Long Savours Poems. Below are the most popular long Savours by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Savours poems by poem length and keyword.
Dot to dot conjoin
words we wish to coin;
splash in the ocean,
joy’s magic potion.
Soul's inspiration
shapes thought gyration,
to blissfully dance
in ambedo trance.
Our heart's pure intent,
grants the void consent
to forge words in shape,
leaving all agape.
Dot by dot so linked,
canvas now love inked,
by music patterns;
our night sky lanterns.
As thought flow resumes,
vibrancy assumes
heart’s unique flavours,
which our soul savours.
The curtain when drawn,
ushers a new dawn,
for each hue is new,
like the morning dew.
15-November-2022
Dot to Dot Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Last time it rained was in April.
It did not rain that much,
but it was enough to dirty everywhere.
You see, it was a south easterly wind
and the clouds arrived laden with sand from the north African desert.
That was nearly five months ago, and the farmers are already up in arms,
bemoaning lack of water as they till the arid soil.
dust flies in the air
the sun blazes overhead
sweat drips profusely
Prayers have not gone unanswered!
Dark clouds creep from behind the hills
fast multiplying, ominously, obliterating the blue.
The calm hot air is ruffled by a timid breeze which soon turns
to gusty wind. A sudden horizontal flash followed by drawling thunder
precedes a few big drops of rain which testily hit the ground.
increase of tempo
deafening cymbals clash
erupting deluge
Water gathers then flows steadily down the streets;
thirsty fields drink greedily; trees bathe in delight, relishing
heaven’s kiss of life on their moribund leaves, roots breathing in relief.
Then, worn out, the wind slowly abates; so do the thunder and the rain.
The clouds shyly disperse, permitting an unobstructed view of the sky above.
Satiated, the sundrenched land savours the afterglow.
sensual appeal
petrichor emanation
veins pleasantly throb
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest: Rain Rain Come My Way
Sponsor: binibining P.iNk
8th June 2016
A thought of you, and I'm lost in daydreams sweet
Of us sharing ice cream treats, our feet in the sand to meet
The warm sun simmers down, awakening our playful side
As we laugh and cherish moments, side by side
In evening’s gentle hush, candlelight dinner for two
Favourite dishes waft their scent, music's gentle hue
Your love letter arrives, with fresh red roses in tow
Missing me already, wishing me home, with love that glows
In verdant countryside, our picnic unfolds
Tears and laughter mingle, our love young and bold
Every sense comes alive, in this idyllic scene
Our thoughts entwined, romantic, like a sweet, sweet dream
Sights, sounds, scents, and savours blend in perfect harmony
Our love shines bright, a symphony of sweet melody
In these daydreams, our hearts sung
As one for a love so tender, forever had begun.
Not even a free flowing river
Could awake me from my reverie.
How long does the tingle within heart last
Suffusing us in rapture of delight
Do we embrace surprise or pause in past
As bliss currents cascade through day and night
Spherical cognition, like our heartbeat
Celebrates the life current renewal
Each pulse we thus greet, sitting at Gods feet
Heightened joy, centred in throb toroidal
Thoughts rested, no room for speculation
Pristine presence savours soma nectar
Purring thunder, Gods reverberation
Spears within, through dormant in-form vectors
As we vaporise, ceasing to resist
We be to become, a divine bliss mist
19-May-2021
Be beyond blame
Niche naughty name
Free feisty flame
Speak sensuous spice
Nurture notes nice
Pay pretty price
Rest rustic rote
Notice new notes
Voice vibrant vote
Surprise streams space
Glimpse glowing grace
Touch tensile trace
Muse makes music
Toil treats tactic
Mind moves magic
Worth words wise will
Style savours still
Feel fancy fill
Ply playing pun
Free floating fun
Rich river runs
Private plot plays
Speak sanguine say
Word wholesome way
Bright blessings bloom
Gracious grip grooms
Better buzz booms
Live lovely laze
Don dreamy daze
Cheer clever craze
Ask apt achieve
Brave bold believe
Court clear conceive
Touch trendy takes
Maze minding makes
Such shifting stakes
Leon Enriquez
28 January 2015
Singapore
Love's vibes sneered at my sunken face
And bid me to hear, booming from the
Calling clouds, that what I had idealised about
Is in fact nothing else other than figments
Of my own imagination!
I breathed in my anguish
While the rising winds
Seemed to tell me
That I have now become a soul,
Who is free to roam in a world
Which can be beautiful
If lived with caution
But can be dangerous
If lived frivolously!
Fists clenched, I let the tears dry up
On my face and set my new destination
As the many lands found on the other side
Of the calm ocean's horizon!
And while roaming, I came across poets
Bearing the same mindset as I do,
All living to allow their inner oceans
To thrive in their freedom
And felt, at last, like I have hit home!
I have been roaming for quite a while
And I am overjoyed at the discovery
Of new cultures, new delicacies,
New savours, new dressing styles,
New forms of poetry and other writing styles,
New forms of arts, and even new forms
Of that power which we all call God!
And so far,
I regret not having been set free
And having been given the opportunity
To roam!
21 Jan 2023
Pick - A Title Vol 34
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Black Angels search
As the world turns to grey
In soulless march
For their soulful prey
They congregate from places
Never heard of in many years
To wallow in their carnage
Spreading their demonic fears
Spirited from the underworld
The blackened depths of Hades
Diminishing the light above
Leaving earth in deathly shade
Skeletal marching soldiers
Empty of life and soul
Desperate to spread their black
As the brightness takes the toll
The worlds in need of saviour
A light to shine through soon
No longer can we rely
On our sun, or our moon
A journey must be made
To free us from this plight
A White Angel to be found
To turn this wrong to right
To Serbia heroes travel
Mileseva Monastery reached
As they stand in front of a fresco
An Angel beside Christ's feet
The mentioning of these words
Myrrh-bearers on Christs grave
The fresco starts to glow
Is this the light that saves
For the heroes standing there
Their bodies absorb the light
For in their hearts they know
They are the savours of our plight
Messengers now on their travel
Different journey's they partake
Don't fear the Reaper
For his light will re-awake
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss2.php
178 months, 129940 hours,
now only 10 minutes remain.
Sitting in cold eerie darkness,
he observes the rhythm of water drops,
slowly wipes away streams of sweat
with his withered trembling hands.
That aching fear, gnawing in his fevered brain,
spasms of fear demanding flight
yet none to be had,
his inner soul asking why he had lost his way
why had his sad life come to this?
What lay in the caverns of darkness ahead!
Wardens pace up and down like wolves,
stopping to stare with compassion less eyes - smirking.
Waiting for the clock to chimes 12 times,
and to shout,
'dead man walking.'
He sits savouring every last breath,
rapidly repenting for all his past mistakes,
deep inside he knows its too late for regrets.
All his apologies fall upon deaf ears.
Flashes past seen, his crimes, girls and drugs, what a blast!
Pretty girls, each taking a slice, of his hoarded treasures
and he indulging in theirs with total abandonment.
O' glorious were those dead and ancient days!
Then reality came back to bite and bite hard,
saying, " such foolishness was a dream and soon comes Death"!
Too hard to bear such truth, he rushes back into fleeting dreams.
Suddenly cold, very cold he feels the deafening bleakness!
Sees the finality in the concrete and iron bars holding him.
Cries silently, what he wouldn't give for another day,
another dawn out in sunshine and fresh air!
Then reality and Fate both spoke to him saying;
" Tho' you a doomed man, meet thy death as a brave one."
Each heart beat beats with each ticking second.
He clutches his worn bible, readying himself for what lies ahead,
anxiously contemplating if he is worthy of redemption.
Rocking back and forth,
unable to control floods of tears,
his thoughts are disturbed with a truncheon rattling his cell's bars,
and the dreaded final summoning of his name.
Wolves smile with sly eyes,
as the stench of death fills the air.
Fellow inmates turn their faces to the ground.
He savours every step, he knows they are his last.
God is no longer the master of his condemned fate.
He knows he can't erase the crimes of his past,
but takes solace,
feeling his crimes were not premeditated,
but now he must face the hypocrisy
of his own premature death.
A boy sits on house steps (cement arid)
removing the crust from his egg salad sandwich
sparrows snatch the broken morsels he throws at them
laced bonds like a companionship weave
a shield from solitude
He savours the egg salad his mother has left for him
comfort food like the joyous presto an
orchestra plays
His mother, swept aside by work from noon till six,
allows his independence in a latch key
that dangles from his neck
deserving of protection
a latch key that opens the fall out of misplaced pairing
for a child knowing everything doesn't always work out
A boy's resolve
that a crusty dollup of sadness isn't a full meal
that life spooled out by a plundered sense of normal
doesn't prevent a new dimension of self
that sometimes in the erasure of a full family
there's a moon walk to find one's footing
His calm blue gaze
picking up clues
establishing connections
a focus from his core
as a family of sparrows pecks at the crumbs
Poem composed: June 25, 2022
Received an NA July 24th/22
He can normally smell a rat or two especially as
They rattle their cage when leaving the ship
Tastes defeat when they have won another day
Cuddles their clever escape of untouchable glory
The scent at the food bank tickles his hungry senses
Christmas choirs herald another day on the street
Before he digs in the trash for flavours of injustice
Compressed in a doorway he nudges his squeeze
Poverty exudes a strange fragrance of survival
Soundbites of austerity jingle in a jar bell of loss
He savours a few mouthfuls of leftover curry
Pinches his skin to decide whether he is still alive
His nostrils fill with indelible whiffs of rotten flesh
Voices in his head compete for a walk on part
From the take away menu distastefully priced
Then he doffs his cap and lets go of the rope …
13th December 2019