Long Settling Poems
Long Settling Poems. Below are the most popular long Settling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Settling poems by poem length and keyword.
As I sit here on this guardrail,
on this first day of the year where
a jacket is not what you need to keep you warm,
watching the same breeze that breathes
across my cheek and whispers into my ear
stir the waters before my eyes;
as I hear the soft, ephemeral guitar and heartfelt voice
of music for the spirit,
I give the world a simple, true smile,
and ponder this concept we dub happiness.
It's not something one should search for,
despite what you may hear;
stop seeking serenity.
It scampers to and fro, out of our fumbling reach,
like a squirrel or rabbit darting speedily away -
and like those, if a capture is ever managed,
you won't know what to do with the prize.
There is no way to guarantee its arrival at your door,
no way to ensure you'll ever find it at all;
but the chances can be increased.
Ironically, my answer is to do nothing,
nothing regarding it, whatsoever;
live your life, how and why you choose -
leave happiness to its own fey games,
and maybe, one day,
there it will be.
In the dream you've toiled at,
finally close to realization;
in the friendships you've nurtured,
bearing harmony beyond your former knowledge -
there it is.
When one you used to love, the giver of a broken heart,
becomes, once again, your friend;
when you forgive and forget the pain that went before,
and enjoy simple companionship once more -
there it is.
In the work you've done,
finally meaning something;
in just honestly being who you really are;
in a father's proud word -
there it is.
In the stars and the moon,
peeking out for a celestial salute;
in the sun, blazing bright and orange,
settling on a placid lake,
in a deeply soulful song -
truly, there it is.
This world's got one hell of a lot to offer,
if only we'd remember sometimes to look at it.
Rise o weary sun,
Another day is born.
With twilight slumber gone,
Greet the infant morn.
Your vital warmth prevails,
To evaporate the dew.
Supple blades of grass,
Reflect a golden hue.
Radiant shards of light,
Sweeps across the land.
Flowers salute the dawn,
Weaving tapestries so grand.
Rise o weary sun,
Midday is almost here.
As you slowly climb,
Dark shadows disappear.
Scorch the sifted sands,
Pound them into dust.
Driven to the sea,
With a steady gust.
No tempest will survive,
Nor creatures can hide.
Fear not the clouds,
Cast them all aside.
Rise o weary sun,
Forget those nightly dreams.
The splendor you create,
Sails on vivid beams.
Lantern lit on high,
Emits a fervent glow.
Upon a mountain-top,
Melts the fallen snow.
Your endeavor nearly done,
Settling in the west.
Jaded orb must wane,
Once again to rest.
My migratory mind indomitably mobile
recedes with the ebbed time to the shore of the past
like the spirited surfer on the wandering waves of life,
surging on curled crests carrying the fractured moon
to the twirling troughs that store the sunk stars.
The wheel of time churns up the disarray dust,
settling on the unstable shelf of my listless life.
Memory menagerie from the dismal debris flies away
as the fulcrum of frail self-realization oscillates
beyond my grasp on the rolling ripples of longing.
In the weed-webbed terrain draping the depth within,
turns from the wreckage of lost love to a golden garden.
The pathway paved by memory outside its frail fence,
waits for me remarkably rejuvenated, to be walked
to the mesmeric meadow of the promising tomorrow.
The dormant memory is then inspired to innovate
the arcane acumen of self-acquired inspiration alchemy.
Marigold blooms with hues of hope in the junkyard,
the glitter of gold flashes in the rusted crust of riling ruins
with the metamorphic touch of the Midas mind.
When my castle of sand on the shore of yearning
tumbles down as the discarded debris of doting heart,
I discover the hidden flute of feeling permanently preserved,
and play again the lost tune that changes my life
with the ecstatic melody of the symphony of memory.
Romance has been birthed
Beneath your glow
Showers of delight
In hues of hope
Falling over my dreams
Breathing tenderly
On silent nights
Under a ghostly gray
Breathes a misty thought
Dancing on stardust
Whispering inspiration
Crimson sensations
Rolling over my thoughts
Beckoning praise
Beneath a graceful haze
Of laughing grace
Music and poetry
Come alive, dancing
A fire on the inside
Below your silvery blaze
Where melancholy reigns
And joy decides to fight
For the passion of promise
Held captive on the wind
Where prayers still
The kindness within
Lighting the darkness
With sensations that chase
Away the foreboding
Of nightmarish fears
Lingering on the air
Sighs of compassion
Warming the heart and soul
With songs of blessedness
Aspirations and delights
Healing souls who dread
The past the way many fear
A nightmare haunting
The clear, cool moments
Of the here and now
Oh, gentle moon
Echo through the heart
In waves of mysterious love
Settling all the worries
With promises of a cure
Filled with tenderness
Feelings that blend
Together in kind thanks
For all the joy you reflect
On your beaming pledge
Of intimate radiance
Glimmering on the night
A flame of truth and insight
Sparking wiggling stars
Into playing with the night
Quivering gleam of charm
Lifting heavy hearts
Assuring souls of eternity
Filled with gracious
Quiet – sweet serenity
Abiding endlessly
Oh, gentle moon
Guide my pen
As I speak of you
The truth is so alive
Like the fire in your bright
Caress of the naked earth
Your fire shimmers
With your soft touch
Sending ripples
Across the thoughts
On land and sea
You stroke us all!
Oh, gentle moon
Please don’t fall
You’re a welcome friend
To everyone who sees
Your glistening flame
Oh, gentle moon
Please never go away
You make all the difference
In night’s blushing allure
Oh, gentle moon
You are the caress
To which I am drawn
Never leave us alone
Without you, dear friend
Night would be so very dark
TIMEFRAME
too much
too little
a precocious
settling of freshness
a rapid smattering
stillness
ere activity
so inventive
thrilling
in context
showcased
in efforts
alongside
looks us
in the eye
the gaze
is all
discerned
dressed
abstracts evoke
fluidity
is released
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Some claim at last breath
One’s entire life flashes before you—
No way to know for sure
It happens too late to confirm.
Did Mother see
Fifteen children
Fourteen births
Thirteen first communions
Twelve Marriages
Eleven confirmations
Ten Hail Marys
Nine graduations
Eight siblings
Seven daughters
Six sons
Five homes
Four seminarians
Three divorces
Two deaths
One re-marriage?
Her life was more than her children,
But, by sheer numbers,
They consumed her
Thoughts, deeds, and energy.
When most exhausted, she learned
Love, kindness and caring
Replenished more than they took.
Can’t say that for changing diapers,
Settling fights,
Making breakfast, cooking dinner,
Preparing supper for so many—
No breaks for Sabbath or Sunday
For forty-five years.
She’d tell you family came first
After God and Jesus who coolly demanded to be
First. It was in her garden she felt most
Herself, but herself was family and God.
I studied
Washington, Napoleon, Alexander
Lincoln, Jefferson, Madison
Jesus, Buddha, and Zoroaster—
Not one could have mothered thirteen,
Praised God every day
while raising one hundred
Chickens and an acre or two of garden.
Long ago when grandaddy lived
Upon a tenant farm
Their closest neighbor lived a mile
Distance held its warm charm
After settling spell, work began
Each day held many chores
For children, teens, and their mom, dad
Many of them outdoors
One day nearest neighbor came by
He'd heard family arrived
Now lived in Madden old farm house
The farm they would revive
This neighbor's visits were frequent
He came tools to borrow
First one tool then another mooched
Not return tomorrow
Each time grandaddy would send son
Country mile to collect
Tools neighbor took didn't return
Return grans did expect
Once neighbor came to borrow saw
Of course didn't return
In few days grandad needed it
Ask sons in voice stern,
"Where is the saw?" Sons gave reply,
"Nearest neighbor borrowed."
Grandaddy said, "Sons do your chores".
Sad pill grandad swallowed
As he walked shorter wooded path
To the neighbor's homeplace
He did get angerier each step
Anger seemed to set pace
When he got there he asked neighbor,
"Why don't you bring tools back?".
Moocher answered, "Its too far to walk
A mile there to giveback".
Well if one thought grandaddy angry
On the far way over
One ought to have seen his high steps
When he came back aquiver
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Contest:Funny Poem
Please click on "About This Poem"
We ask if there be merit in the sand
Conformed from heart and hand on summer’s day?
However well the moat and turrets planned,
The lapping of the sea’s not far away.
O, that the tide shall come, we know too well:
Then dream and substance shall together fall.
A Babylon for which no tongue shall tell;
The sea, the settling sea, shall settle all.
And that shall come, but yet, it is not now,
And all of time is moments such as these;
Before the fall, there is not need to bow;
The sea shall come, but now, the warming breeze.
And if it soon shall end, as so it be,
There’s yet our moment still, before the sea.
Mrs. Robin, busy as a bee
visits my home's skylight annually
She builds a nest there carefully
her private retreat, only I can see
She commandeers my yard militarily
hopping to and fro imperiously
Ever seeking bark or twig assiduously
to feather her penthouse more comfortably
A half-dozen blue eggs she lays surreptitiously
Settling down over them protectively
Sheltered from the elements so cunningly
She awaits their hatching expectantly...
One day, her chirpings' cease, inevitably
Mrs. Robins' dreams realized successfully
She's flown the coop, perforce happily
Her nest, forlorn ~ stares at me emptily
July 10, 2020
Bird Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
NEARNESS TO GOD
Humble heart honoring honesty and holiness
by Grace and Glory of God
staying salient silent settling in Supreme soul,
seeking strength and solace from Super-power.
praying for pure pristine peace.
Self-sensation acquired by blessings
of Almighty cascading in opulence on me
introspecting ethereal ecstasy.
Mind in muse moistened by magnificence and majesty
of eternal sublime spirit sheltering me.
My divine bliss lies in firm belief of guidance of God
on primrose path of truth with dauntless determination.
09/15/ 20
Second Place
'Alliteration Regarding Relationship with God' Contest by Beata Agustin