Long Seasonslife Poems
Long Seasonslife Poems. Below are the most popular long Seasonslife by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Seasonslife poems by poem length and keyword.
In winter’s white, as angels cry
for early spring to warm the wind,
to bring to life with gentle sigh,
in love, the bitter frost has thinned.
For early spring to warm the wind,
at Valentine’s romantic calls,
in love, the bitter frost has thinned,
where dancers twirl amid stone walls.
At Valentine’s romantic calls,
rebirth of nature’s light divine,
where dancers twirl amid stone walls,
and blossoms pastel shades recline.
Rebirth of nature’s light divine,
when day equals the hours of night,
and blossoms pastel shades recline,
to hail the queen of May in light.
When day equals the hours of night,
a summer’s sun will come to play,
to hail the queen of May in light,
we chant and sing along the way.
A summer’s sun will come to play,
so life can grow as gods decreed,
we chant and sing along the way,
with warmth and light our hunger feed.
So life can grow as gods decreed,
the rays of sun on seeds we’ve sown,
with warmth and light our hunger feed,
the wealth of harvest is our own.
The rays of sun on seeds we’ve sown,
in autumn breeze that chills the heat,
the wealth of harvest is our own,
as gold and red belies our feet.
In autumn breeze that chills the heat,
a year that ends with blessed Samhain,
as gold and red belies our feet,
the call of Ancient’s name to reign.
A year that ends with blessed Samhain,
to bring to life with gentle sigh,
the call of Ancient’s name to reign,
in winter’s white, as angels cry.
My heart is the same full of love
My house that shelters it full of pain
But it's autumn in my life, Dove
The hair of gray and wrinkles reign
I set the table full of food
For the family to dine fun times
But it is autumn in my life
When changes prepare for winter
I'm not sure I'll know winter now
For I have not experienced it
But it's autumn in my life somehow
Where beauty glows bright from the depths
Producing leaves of many hues
Love the autumn of my life, Dove
Now all that's left winter's white snow
I think that when winter comes cold
Plants freeze if left out in weather
They will need a warmer place inside
But since it is just autumn now
There's time to prepare room somehow
I still watch the birds from window
They have not all gone away love
But it's autumn in my life now
Soon most will be gone for winter
Winter soon will approach with cold
Seemingly death of the roses
But it's autumn in my life my bold
There are few thoughts of approaching winter
But when winter comes my way
The body rest to rise another spring
Now it's autumn in my life this day
On another day I'll be called by trumpet away
Good times seem to travel swiftly by.
This is something nobody can deny.
It seems as if it was only yesterday,
when we met each other near the end of May.
Now it is early September around Labor Day.
School is starting again, and you will go away.
“Thank you for all the good times” is what I have to say.
I could never forget the shyness of your smile.
After that, you had me ensnared all the while.
We spent many sunny days along the beach.
I felt as if the stars were within my reach.
The sun, the pounding surf, and the salty air,
made my everyday life free and without care.
Along the boardwalk, I won many prizes for you.
There never seemed to be clouds in that sky of blue.
Your beautiful eyes always shared that same hue.
Still, the most unforgettable thing was your smile.
This made my life worth living all the while.
You provided that something extra on that seaside isle.
Sadly now, we have to part the ways.
However, we will never lose the memories of those days.
I hope some day, we will see each other again.
With a little luck, it will be just a matter of when.
~ can you tell I'm ready for SPRING???! hehe ~
Jealous Winter
by Amy Swanson
Winter...
you come and go
like a child playing peek-a-boo
from behind Spring's shy curtain
Winter...
you are such a jealous child!
So grudging of the warmth and life of
your Spring sibling
you race to steal the show
each time your sister dares
to show her pretty face
and share her smiling warmth
gracing us with her gentle presence --
your ego too large
to take a back seat.
Enough, Winter!
You have had your day
Your turn is no more...
The curtain has closed on you
yet
you insist on coming back
for unwanted encores.
Oh Spring...
please come to shower us
with warmth and life and love...
and send your jealous sister
back to Mother!
There was a time
You thought about nothing
And nothing to you was everything
When torment was a substance abused by the brain
You realized people would always tussle and complain
Realistically we continue to be a figment of the same
And when life became a product subdued by absence
You deflowered and asked
May I have a little bit of your absinthe
And when the world wouldn’t seem to let you out
Silence was you because you thought about you were saying
Before the words left your mouth
When cancer comes as a form of love
Your lungs give a last warming shrug
These are your opening scenes from above
When Carolina’s
Only decency
Is to provoke a crush
When life calls
And you love her so
That you refuse to hush
You show her
Your decent sides
As well as your musk
Because roses are red
It doesn’t mean violets are naturally blue
So silly how we fall victim to what we do
The premonitions of a man who dared to dream
Reach out with wine and fables
To put bread on his table
To have life within your reach...
is to make the worst or best of choices;
either crush them or make them flourish...
Existence is more fragile than daises
their delicate petals smell of sweet kisses;
pluck them gently and blow them away...
Butterflies are not bees that make honey,
they pick up seeds and disperse them overfields and meadows:
to give lovers a gift which is as incomparable as beauty...
To have life within your reach...
means you have every right to live it;
and wouldn't anyone always cherish it?
Springs aren't as wide as rivers;
and shouldn't they flow merrily to the placid sea...
carrying wild roses to catch someone's fancy?
Nights of a soft and bright moon inspire a song of felicity;
have you seen its cheerless face suddenly light up...
when two lovers make wishes to surrender to fantasy?
To have life within your reach...
is not to lose those moments to time;
realize how precious they are to a devoted mind!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Rain is more than a blessing,
watch it from a window pouring...
birds take a long bath as little springs form;
and kids run outside to get wet and dance in the storm.
Rain is good for every tree, pant and flower,
and on them we daily rely for food and adornment...
plenty of showers in warm spring, thunders in scorching summer;
the happy eyes of farmers love to see it fall on fields for a bountful harvest.
Without rain the earth would be a huge desert,
no plant life would survive in arid soil and the cattle
on prairies would aimlessly roam to find a river for their thirst,
many will die and the cowboys without their wild horses wouldn't be so festal.
Rain is a source of wealth and more than a blessing, it promises
pretty roses in bloom, abundant fruits on trees and wheat with golden kernels
in the fileds, where those stuffed scarecrows protect them from very hungry ravens;
imagine life without rainfalls, it'll resemble the somber moon with dry valleys and canyons.
I open myself to Spring,
anticipating gifts that it holds.
Renewal and wonders of life it brings.
I'm drawn to what the Season unfolds.
Anticipating gifts that it holds,
like Lilacs enticing Butterflies.
I'm drawn to what the Season unfolds,
sunshine, warm on my face lies.
Like Lilacs enticing Butterflies,
fresh air fills my lungs and soul.
Sunshine, warm, on my face lies,
my heart once again is whole.
Fresh air fills my lungs and soul.
Renewal and wonders of life it brings,
my heart, once again, is whole.
I open myself up to Spring.
For the contest:
Bring On Spring
Sponsored by:
Francine Roberts
Placement: 6th
Contest: Any Old Butterfly Poem
Sponsored by Poet Destroyer
Placement: 1st
Woody corpse; denuded stand emanating a paler hue
Barren limbs no burgeoning life doth construe
Stale, musty scent from it's damp twigs doth issue
Winds whisk through sterile branches sighing a doleful mew
No sheltered perch doth it's pared canopy imbue
No decorative shroud to satiate the gawker's view
A vapid garland with no fruitful fronds to strew
Stilled life whose rings are scrolled with each succeeding, autumn's due
Yet deep within it's fibers resinous juices stew
Spurting forth sticky wads of balsamic glue
Trite lacquer it's brigand hull to seal and preening pests to rue
Hearty saps from tapped bough do still spew
Sweet, syrupy concoction; sugary fondue