Long Serenade Poems
Long Serenade Poems. Below are the most popular long Serenade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Serenade poems by poem length and keyword.
Skyline explosions alive with firework stars basking in the glory of the naked sky
As moonlight falls to the dawn's arise, bowing out I ask my love why?
Shadows cloud the view of the dreamer as mist descends
Yet even loving eyes' can no longer be blind to an obvious truth
The winding road eventually will straighten
The path reaching it's destination
I know now where our road leads
Past the signs and red lights that lit the way
The warnings I paid little heed or attention to
And now in the midsummer moonlight of our love's first kiss
I see the Sun breaking through
Her call sorrowful and reflective
Her words a painful serenade to lovers
She brings forth the birth of a new morn
With the old promises lost as the day is gone
For once her song is heard
The chorus echoing in the silence of our single moment
Tis the end of the road for you and I
So that you will know
the darkness of flowers
I will kiss your lips at first light.
I will provide sweet morning rain.
Because you must have poetry
I will make breakfast
pouring jasmine tea
arranging what we both like
onto sky blue plates.
You should have music.
I will call for Mozart's little bird.
I will call the great hook beaked
seafaring gulls
to serenade these drowsy breaths.
I will hum the small songs
of sad street urchins
for your kind fingers
to silence.
We will paint moon moths
into butterflies,
polish river rocks
into crystals
for love to see through.
Slowly we will melt our butter.
You will disappear
as you come closer.
Your hands ebbing from my shore.
A strand etched with the driftwood
of these ordinary revelations
that pool into vision
this Sabbath morning,
and while blueberry muffins
are cooking,
we will pray in our own way.
We stayed high atop a bluff overlooking the Mississippi river and before our next day’s drive we were blessed to sit atop that bluff and watch the day arrive.
In the quiet calm of the morning our eyes shifting from the sky above to the river below…we saw the Mississippi ambling by…at her own pace…leisurely and slow.
The sun, as she does every morning…with her desire to tantalize…
released a vibrancy of colors announcing she’s about to rise
Reds and oranges and yellows in the sky combined
telling us to be patient for the sun’s not far behind
And while we waited for the sun to rise and the darkness of the night to fade…
on the railing right in front of us…a songbird serenade.
I asked the bird this question…as this new day had begun
Is it the sun’s rising that makes you sing…or does your singing raise the sun?
I think she might have replied…that somewhere in her song the answer hid
but I do not speak songbird…although I wish I did.
We watched boats along the river making their early morning runs
We watched the leaves in all the trees wave good morning to the sun
And as if on cue…when the songbirds melody was done
we saw the clouds begin to shine absorbing the colors of the sun
And we saw the sun gradually make her appearance…she is anything but shy
dressed in all her finest colors she rose like an angel in the sky.
And with such a beautiful performance that morning
off on our next adventure we set…
with the Mississippi morning now a memory…but one we’re not likely to forget
Wind and sea and waves and sun
sand in toes as day is done
Seagulls glide, sandpipers run
young dad splashes with his son
Breakers rise, translucent teal
lifeguards poised as youngsters squeal
Seniors search for shells - they feel
twelve again as sun rays heal
Sky on fire towards the west
clouds in lustrous fashion dressed
Cosmic artistry - I'm blessed
songs of peace swirl through my chest
Violins waft quietly
over swelling timpani
Saxophone soars soulfully
bidding hearts to be set free
Blushing scarlet, clouds advance
smell of salty foam enchants
Palm trees sway as in a trance
recalls young love's first slow dance
Couples stroll, fingers entwined
share a kiss if so inclined
Rising moon smiles as designed:
gives the anxious peace of mind
Waves still warm from midday blaze
surfers dance in sea-mist haze
Sailboats flee from stress-filled days
springtime struts; summer sashays
written 23 June 2023
Lured by the dulcet song of a lark perched
On the low-hanging limb of a blossoming tree, around which
Violets had sprung in wild beauty among the verdancy as if
Embroidering the lush long meadow grasses, I
Lingered, while the ballerina breeze lightly danced flowers’ fragrance to me.
Imbued with the luminescence of a
New day’s dawn, the nearby lake was sparkling.
Elysian my whole world seemed, enveloping me in
Splendor, so I stayed, lazing in the sun, listening to the
Susurrus wind and the lark’s sweet serenade.
Written Feb. 17, 2016
Gazing across still waters
I sit and dream my day away
no ripples upon this glass mirrored lake
serene tranquility seeping within
Yet somewhere from the distance
a gentle sound wafts past my ears
my eyelids heavy slowly closing
whilst soaking up the atmosphere
I dream of dancers all in white
gossamer feathers are fluttering
and as I open up my eyes
in amazement...
suddenly swans
Gliding gracefully over the lake
pirouetting as their show begins
hundreds exquisitely take to the stage
for this their ballet is theirs to perform
The music begins to intoxicate
and the dancers entice me closer
sitting up high
Swan Lake I espy
Suddenly swans
serenade my soul...
Written 6th April 2019
Contest: Suddenly Swans
Date judged: 26th April 2019
no placement
Contest Name:Writing Challenge 4, May 2019, No Placement
Sponsor: Dear Heart
FIRST PLACE
Contest: Verse a favoured theme
Sponsor: Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Astride the dark cloud’s fringe of despair
Beguiling dreams gleamed like lines of silver,
Created dream-drenched wings of birds of desire,
Driven by the winsome winds through the rainbow flair,
Enchanted they entered the sunburst horizon of rapture.
Flock of these birds flew en echelon patterned,
Glided across my mind, the lyrical design I discerned,
Hovering on the rhapsody of delight in the cerulean sky.
I tried to hold them in the folds of aspiration high,
Just before they could fly away to the domain of
Kaleidoscopic panorama of my twilight of love,
Languishing for long in the mist of bleakness veiled.
Memory marooned in the middle of nowhere, trailed
Nostalgic garden path flooded by sunshine river,
Once cascaded in my heart’s valley of flower.
Pensive vista of the nascent dawn unwrapping
Quietly at the edge of my morose mind reviving,
Reassured me the birds would return someday,
Serenade the song of love I had lost in the abyss of dismay,
Twirling in the sandstorm of tormenting time that surged
Unabated across my jade meadow morphed to wasteland scourged,
Verging onto the dry dunes of the desert desolate,
Where I chased the mirage with my soul turned into decadent
Xenolith of my broken heart delicate.
Yearning to reach the oasis of your embrace, I was afloat on
Zephyr of longing, saturated with the stardust of passion.
Written: August 20, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
Quote" I choose to kiss you in the wind, for the wind is gentler than my lips."By Rumi
*************
Wrapped in the warmth of your tender sigh
As night enfolds us, I merge with you in the sky
Amidst the silent serenade of whispering moans
Our lips meet in a yielding kiss, devoid of tones.
A gentle kiss upon the brow, silent, unseen
A whisper of flesh, soul, and hopes to glean
No spotlights or large displays of zeal—
Only hope, steady, and unwavering to reveal.
It doesn't blaze with fury or crave limelight
It settles in such silence, soft and polite
A pause in the chaos, a breath in the race
A gentle reminder: you have a safe space.
It rests on your brow such as calm at night
As hands that cradle when the world is contrite
A peace that lingers when tempests depart
No words to remember, just the silence of the heart
Our hearts echo a whisper, as a dove
A delicate caress, a breeze of cosmic love.
the s e a
remembers the taste
of cinnamon sunsets~
the essence of
emerald embers
and resonances of petrichor
when the tides tremble
in turquoise delight,
amidst the marine snakes
slithering through
oceanic echoes,
mirroring Medusa melodies
in envious tones.
and as the morning
stars nestle in the
wildflower warmth
of the honeyed sun,
wine-red ink
flows within midnight
vines in vain,
aching to be heard,
while the jealous jasmines
jinx the sanguine spirit
of January garnets
I wear in
grace and gratitude.
yet if my sky knows
not the colors of darkness,
would the moon still
be my poetic savior?
silently sewing sequins of solace
to the fabric of love,
floating like cosmic candles,
elegantly emanating
perfumed perseverance
for I am the silhouette
of the horizon
wrapped in a plethora of
p e a c e lilies,
sprouting in the
glistening garden
of gossamer verses,
finding roseate reasons to rhyme,
when eclipsed
is the luna-light
and monsoon monsters
are the cynical spectators,
knocking on my canvas
with needles and nails
sharpened with
paper-thin confetti
of resentful remorse.
but I ponder,
will the blind still feel
the storms I breathe
and the strength I wear
to waltz through wicked weeds,
eager to chain unspoken needs?
this is me running from the toxic rain,
pushing me back into
the twilight zone,
where I surf
through nothingness,
engrossed in timeless trust,
tied to written tranquility,
manifesting magnetic waves
of inner truce and magic
as the sea remembers
the serenade of serenity
and the sky knows
the metaphors to merge
winds of love and
waves of kindness.
Deep solace lingers on between the pauses
of your lisping words--- a quest for normalcy
amidst the yells never heard by moonless eves,
by cathartic drawls never felt by anyone
except me... holding those mottled palms
I watch the light flickering among
veiled shadows from your eyes...I cry inside.
Though inner peace can be anonymous,
distant from life's torment, I sing our
childhood tunes where despair lays heavy
on needled days:Somehow, it calms
your thoughts, then we grin, laugh if
only for an instance...until winds of an
ailing mind snuff time's flow, while the blood
of tears carries us to space we do not know.
Yet, faith prevails like a whistling serenade
which calls you back to a dream of comfort.
Although this ailment reaches stage 3, we
feel reborn by so many dreams of life's ventures
yet to be done-- the journeys to mountain tops,
the different flavor of late autumnal rain ,
a newborn's tiny frame cradled by your arms...
( remember you wanted two?)
Dearest friend, oh Eena of all seasons, I align
my white energy with you, bold and unyielding--
twogether are are never far off: watch me smile,
allow me to listen, and relish this affirmation:
' Dreams are to be lived. Live! You are never alone.'
Contest of Silent One: Together we are strong
3/21/2018