Long She Poems
Long She Poems. Below are the most popular long She by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long She poems by poem length and keyword.
She Sits Alone
She dresses the park with her eyes,
imagining babies,
clad in blue bonnets,
peering pinks,
discovering nature,
and the bosom of life,
mother's milk sill fresh
on babies lips.
Laughter and play rising
from the bristling grass,
as parent's faces beam.
So tailored the moment
sans her demons and ghosts,
her failed marriage,
altering her makeup
and a park full of her dreams
of babies playing.
Her heart pools yearning of pain.
She sits alone, now, pondering
him and Him,
as her tearing eyes look down
at her dress-ups.
connie pachecho
8/10/17
Inspired to write after reading the entries to
"She Sits Alone" contest.
So you think that life as dealt you,
A hand that isn't quite fair.
It's left you feeling hopeless,
And completely unaware.
But I think life is like music,
And we're all just dancing along.
It has its own rhythm,
And it sings such a beautiful song.
But still you sit and wallow,
You claim the beat, you cannot hear.
But are you truly listening,
To the melody she sings without fear.
She sings about the darkness,
That intrudes our precise lives.
She sings about the light,
That warms our hearts and our minds.
She sings about all the rest,
That makes up the In-between,
She never sets the player,
To pause or to repeat.
So when you think life is going,
In a direction you do not dare.
Take her by the hand, enjoy her flow,
And do it without your fear.
You may find, that life is so much more,
Than a race that needs to be won,
Or the reflection you see in a lake, beneath the falling sun.
R.K.H
Like the spring, new
Every morning – the wonders a delight,
Sun rising in the soft skies,
Breathing joy into the heart, the
Soul who knows that love
This amazing, this graceful and pure
Is a love inspired by the One
Who gave each of us the music,
Whispering in colors, inspirations
Vibrating promises of love so incredible
It silences the darkness, gives
Hope to the hopeless, stirs magnificent
Brings wonderful the kiss of light
Erasing the shadows with feelings that
Remember to laugh with her,
This brilliant promise, the one who
He gave us – to make a way through
The childhood, the brokenness, the growing
Into those people who remember to
Show her that her lessons were learnt…
With a faded dream of yesterday’s feelings
We call out to her, the woman who revealed
To us – the beauty, the peace, the singing
Of souls who believe, those who just know
This word has meaning beyond what we think…
The meaning of Mom is bigger than huge.
It is an enormous word that means assurance
And hope – trembling with joy, energizing
Faith and grace, pulsing with gladness…
Mom means wisdom, welcome, warmth
Mom means giving, with grace that sings light
Into the heart who knows that, with her love
She stirs more courage into the spirit
Than we could ever expect to know or hold,
Courage so bold that it is destined to be…
Alive with the love that she pours out with her
Tenderness, her gentleness – the miracle
Found in the soul who is called Mom.. the same one
Who God encouraged to give to us a sample…..
Of the love that is His gift forevermore – This
Is His example of grace – kindness that desires
Only the best for us! – She is the blessing on us!
Everyone has a childhood witch. Mine was Florence. I would run and hide when she walked past our house, stooped over, staring at the sidewalk.
Her hair was an ugly gray color, held away from her face by a man’s hat, and she looked to be at least three hundred years old.
Her face had more lines than corduroy pants and her tongue came out when she talked.
There was a gap or two in her teeth; she was a character, we were told.
A character must be someone you’re afraid of, because my blood clotted when she
Walked down my sidewalk with her goats.
Many children would run to their mama when Florence walked by, so she must have been other children’s childhood witch too.
My mama always offered to get Florence a cool drink or whatever, but she kept walking.
She would mutter all the way up the street – terrorizing us with stories about six foot snakes she had
To hoe to death in her garden.
The adults invited her to neighborhood things, but she never came.
Childhood company on the coach would stare openly if Florence walked past.
What’s that? They would ask, wondering about her layers of dresses over bibbed overalls.
Her clothes were like her hair, sticking out in all directions.
That’s Florence, she’s very nice, our mother would tell company.
We would laugh, but not loudly.
One time my sister and I were playing “what do you want to be when you grow up?”
I want to be Florence, I said. We laughed until we cried. Every time we looked at each other
For the next two days, we would get the twin look, and know, and laugh again.
“You girls are awful!” our mother chided us, but I suspected by her dancing eyes that she was laughing too, only inside, and secretly.
When I reached 40, I really wanted to learn to garden. Everyone in town referred me to Florence.
From her I learned how to plant, and water, and mulch, and prune, and replant.
She was one of my best teachers.
She was my great aunt, a cousin’s friend confided to me one day not too long ago.
She was lovely, I replied.
He stared at me.
Did you ever get to know her?
Hell no, he said. I was scared to death of her.
Now isn’t that sad?
Which nights might find me longing
That I must be alone
Which days are the tomorrow's
When you have left and gone
Who draws me near
In your absences that you are
Not near
To whisper I love you
And draw me close and near
Might I be pregnant
And you have not lived me
Are you willing then
To come home to love me
Your ambition
Your selfish ways
Might than you will
Be eager to see things
My way
I can make you decide
By being in someone else's presence
Allowing him to love me
In full lieu of your absences
When your replacement have
Befreinded your kind
And they see things my way
And blame your ambition
And then
All who shall find difference shall
Support my cause
I shall gloat
As in victory
And will say
You loses!
She is your reason
To do right and be strong
To not embarrass nor shame her
So she feels secure where she belongs
Her childhood is your reason
One not to be marred
Letting your guard down
Memories become scarred
Your beautiful family is your reason
To stay focused and in control
Your highest priority
Keeping your family happy and whole
I know its not easy
You are trying so hard
Doing unbelievably well
At not dropping your guard
We who love you
Will always support and guide
You mean everything to us
We stand proudly by your side
The truth is, it is an ongoing battle
Every day, every week, every season
Just always, always remember
She …..is your reason!
In my dream
I never knew I loved you
till late last nights surprise
Your visit to my bedside
opened up my eyes
Your presence under my covers
would my touch invite
The intertwine of our fingers
would be my first delight
Your voluntary movement
was an awesome sight
A gift of God's creation
by television light
Never let this be
just a one night stand
Your back it lay apon my chest
my arm a halfway band
Finding warmth beneath my covers
our comforts hand in hand
A wordless passion called dismay
would be out of fashion
I wake to find myself alone
with thoughts of the pleasant dream
Under covers of my comfort
T.V. light to help me sleep
I wondered why she came to me
when never thoughts discovered
Becoming now a dream to me
my days romance would suffer
Could it be that last night
she dreamed the same dream as me
I know inside that it's impossible
but still my day light dreams
Could she be a witch
that cast a spell on me
Or whispered my name in a prayer
and tossed it in the sea
The imp inside me beckons
Gods mercy let this be
Only always to discover finally
it's just I, myself and me
She’s a she-devil one said. Two laughed.
She conjures up spirits another said. One laughed.
I listened harder at my place on the other side of the wall.
No! Someone said. Truly? There was incessant giggling.
She can tell the time without looking at a clock or a watch.
I looked down at my bare hand.
I always thought she was peculiar. Was that my boss’s voice?
I hid out in my office, waiting for the pitchfork holders to come and get me.
Wondering what tar felt like.
And where would they get the feathers? This was a lazy bunch.
I waited for them to come for me for about two hours.
Apparently they had been talking about another she-devil.
I did not know whether to be insulted, disappointed, or relieved.
A man came in frustrated, asking how he could change his wife.
What do you want to change her into? I asked.
“A frog? A dog? A pug-nosed hog?”
I like being a therapist who can "play" with their clients.
He did not smile.
Ah, a serious guy.
I cannot get her to do the things a wives do, he said. She is a slob.
Being a slob is my mantra; I only clean up for work, and not that often.
So, I kept my face straight and tried to not stick out my tongue.
I do not have any idea what she does all day, he told me. She is lazy.
Lazy Bones Wife has six children and lives in a trailer.
We know how spacious they are. and it is so much fun to clean them.
After more complaints about not being able to train the wife,
I invited him to bring her with him next time he came.
He brought her, but she was not “allowed” to talk.
I offered her free individual counseling at the end of this session.
He refused it, saying it did not make sense. She was the problem.
I encouraged her to come see me if she wanted, but she didn't.
- Who She is. -
She is the statue of liberty
The lady of the harbour
A beacon and a pillar of light
She is burnt at the stake
She is woken by a kiss
Calling from afar
She says " I will fight naked on a horse if you would follow me"
She takes the kids to school with kids in hand her face is full
Even blindfolded she always knows the truth
Her laugh is like a split pomegranite
Often she admonishes me
I just go along stupidly
She taught us how to weave
She taught us how to believe
She shades us like the cedars of Lebanon
Her virtues just goes on and on
We are her children and her name is Freedom
Her heart is like a river, mysterious and deep
The last thought to leave my mind before I go to sleep
She is the matriarch
That takes us to the water
Where we can fill our trunks and we can splash our thanks
We blindly follow her and when we look again she is the vanguard in the rear