Long Shyly Poems
Long Shyly Poems. Below are the most popular long Shyly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shyly poems by poem length and keyword.
When ballads blow kisses but no boughs to receive them.....
An everlasting poem is escorted by the whisper of winds.
I’m a man with a passionate pen but no muse to write of,
Writing under the influence of olives and forbidden liquid,
And now I’m stumbling on prints of cattle on ground,
Walking the road less taken by men,
As words told to me by men wiser than I unveil themselves,
“It is the mistake of youth that spark the flame of wisdom in elders”
And now I satiate myself to the scent of myyrh and spices...
As I witness the alchemy taking place on my face,
Bristles and a carpet of hair raging shyly,
Searching for a method to brave into manhood,
Enjoying my youth and losing my innocence to the toils of this earth,
Sweet!
But today i have decided to simmer in joy and use the right tools to climb the fortress of adulthood,
I know not when i am to sit and dine with better men than I.
I WILL NEVER FORGET
We lived in peaceful area of suburb,
far from any squabble, not least disturbed.
Then sophomore, I had to walk to college
along path parallel to river Ganges.
On my way to college, I had to pass
a young chap under a tree setting canvas.
He used to cast a glance on his specific style.
I used to reciprocate with courtesy smile.
About his painting I never felt curious.
Perhaps performing some artwork, oblivious.
Either of us felt no urge to interact.
By name, we were unfamiliar, ‘That’s fact.’
Haply one day he rushed to stand face to face,
offering a closed envelope: I had to guess:
Must be a painting of riverside view.
The painter shyly said, ‘A small gift for you.’
Returning home got surprised to see, it’s my portrait.
Amazing achievement: I will never forget.
Bewildered to get emotionally involved.
He disappeared letting my dilemma solved.
09/22/19
Edited on 05/12/20
'I will never forget' Contest by Silent One.
Inside our homes wrapped up in warmth
For winter time is here
Outside the frost and snow abounds
So bleak it feels the end is near
No sign of life the world is sleeping
Birds are sheltering from the cold
The leafless trees like skeletons
frosty statues in winter’s stranglehold
But wait, just as a new day dawns
As winter sun peeps shyly through
I spy the tiniest sweet green shots
So delicate, so promising, so new
I stay inside for it’s so cold
How can these plants start growing
Did a tiny ray of sun give hope
Have they come too soon, not really knowing
Today I pulled my blinds back
To behold a spectacular sight
As the whitest little snowdrops shine
like sparkling stars in the sky at night
Written 24th October 2018
For ‘Seasonal or Unseasonal’ competition
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Contest: WK 2 MARCH 2019
Sponsor: Brian Strand
1st place
As the smiles in the cloud brighten,
a cloudburst of joy
sends gentle kisses on our rooftops,
pouring down clouded tears—
bottled-up emotions
to quench the thirsts of
humans, plants, animals... and phantoms.
The trees—
with feet rooted deep in earth—
stood humble as a worm.
The birds~
wings shyly folded to drain the rain—
could not dry-clean the leak in their nests.
Each drop of the rain
carried the smell of the earth,
as runoffs calmed the fury of a beast
threatening to devour the landscape—
along with the thunder.
Then twilight knocks—
the stream of tears halts mid-flow,
the music stops, as rain pulls up the curb;
dry rain clutches the biting wind...
to remind us: it's winter not summer.
Do You Even Know?
Do you even know that you are my poetry hidden in the unseen pages of my soul,
you are my great madness pierced to infinity inside my inner cosmos,
that I live through possession like an eternal sacred and magic ritual,
do you even know how long I wait with such burning impatience in green flames to hold you?
To hold you shyly to my chest and offer you my love like a cosmic flower,
do you even know how much I dream of stroking your hair like threads of lunar light,
to paint you with my eyes on the invisible canvas of my mind and plead with the sky,
do you even know how much I still hope to find you and lose myself with you in each other's arms in the ether?
To caress you, to caress you in the ritual of infinite and ever-pure tenderness,
do you even know how much I want to overflow like waters crashing down on rocks in freefall,
and maybe who knows if it's right to drown in your eyes as deep as the oceans,
do you even know how hard it is for me to write these lines from the book of my sad soul?
It is the page from the book of my soul when I fall into thought and lose my way,
do you even know how lost I feel when I cannot reach you through the cosmic paths,
and you know I barely exist when you don't want to be with me in this universe,
you are my hidden poetry, my great madness pierced into my eternal inner infinity.
I wait with longing to hold you, to offer you my love like the sacred flower,
I dream of stroking your hair, of painting you with my eyes, of pleading with the sky for us,
I hope to find you, to lose myself in the ether, to cherish you in a ritual of tenderness,
I want to overflow like waters on the rocks, to drown in your deep and magic eyes.
Four things come not back:
the spoken word; the sped arrow;
time past; the neglected opportunity.
Omar Ibn Al-Halif, Aphorism
___________________
On a beautiful Fall day- I went for a café,
pushing open the shop door, I bumped into a man,
pardon me, I said shyly (for he was quite handsome).
On my table I placed my café, my journal and pen,
ready to write a poem or two or perhaps an observation.
Then the "handsome" man is asking, may I join you?
Until that moment, I had not considered him relevant.
Inside, I was quivering with possibilities!
This turn of events could be a worthwhile opportunity,
if I let things progress in a timely manner.
Each word he said spoke to my ravished heart-
Star bright eyes, rosy cheeks, ruby lips, stepping stone words.
Such a smooth talker that I was soon quite smitten.
Everything about him was desirable and pleasant to me, so
reaching into that adventurous side of my personality, I
engaged in this mating dance-
Nothing can be thrown away, especially when it comes to love.
Do you believe in windows of opportunity? I do. And,
in time we were talking head to head quietly, two
people like-minded meshing into one entity, touching hands.
In life sometimes love can burn for just a moment, and be
taken by the wind in the next-
You must never, ever neglect a serendipity opportunity.
_____________________________
October 22, 2016
Quote with Acrostic
For the contest, Opportunities
sponsor, Nayda Ivette Negron
First Place
He had long hair once.
She wrote alone in her knickers'
drinking German wines.
He painted dark clouds
that never rained.
Savvy punk word-painters
slam down their ill-tempers
with blunt ballpoints of anger.
Romantic poets running in circles
yapping like Yorkshire Terriers.
Overwrought poetess
banging on about 'daddy'.
Overweight myopic philosophers
creating visual masterpieces.
He draws his thoughts
with the chalky dust
of crow bones,
black birds watch
his hocus-pocus from afar.
The shyly brazen, always
sculpting heart-stomping elephants.
She is lovely seen by
the bottom of a beer glass.
Artists all,
all sketching their faces
looking for someone
to pick them up
to play along
with their solitary games
forever.
Reflected in the tender skies, azure dreams,
Compared to the joys that inspire light,
Rustling quietly in the rushing streams,
Promising laughter that restores the insight.
Rising across the morning’s smile, songs
Silencing the darkness with such a stirring
Only prayers from souls whose love belongs,
Could bring such peace this hope is concurring.
Stilling the heart with blessings beyond compare,
Whispers of leaves, vibrant as the starry skies,
Seem to sway in a dance with trees lost in prayer,
Breathing perfect pleas to One dusk can’t disguise.
Eager to begin the harvest’s cool nights, rich -
Shadows fall across the heart, flowing with charity,
Feels like the soul has finally found her niche,
Swirling in the truths who rain showers of sincerity.
Magnificent glittering allures passions to life,
Restoring the memories with sweetest affections,
Calming the spirit with reprieve from all strife,
These are the pearls that restore the finest connections.
Like a painting on the wall from some notorious painter,
Backdrops walk the thoughts with millions of quiet hues,
Silencing dark, uplifting, assured God is the best entertainer,
Providing all the wonders, moments who inspire the muse.
Attempting to write His peace in the fires of November,
Poetry swears to surrender the moments to life’s flexibility,
Writing hopes and dreams, blushing shyly, like September,
Soothing so amazing delights and stirs the heart’s sensibility.
Flowing like the lavender sun, rising in the one who adores,
Beyond each promise, where the ink wells to spell out grace,
There is the echo of silence reminding hearts He is yours,
Alive, like the love in the heart – He is the One who will embrace…
Every dream, every light, every eventuality – wherever He is, there is…
A vision of hope, a promise of life, a feeling of love like no other has known,
Wherever we are, wherever we go, there is a sense of love that says…
He’s always there, always aware, always one prayer away – you’re never alone!
a bone menagerie
gathered to greet the sun
the stalwart orb shines still
skyward ho, goes it's daily run
heating deserts by force
a steady predictable course
worshipped by the heathen
growing the garden of Eden
greetings to beasts and men
Le Soleil has returned again
hiding shyly by night
to return with hydrogen might
a furnace that whirls
shining on this turbid world
marking time without fail
pouring daylight into our pail
now the burrowing mole
scurrying half blind in a hole
rarely sees the sunlight
existing in nearsighted night
compare to the skylark
flying fro high above sunbeams
it's keen eyes hit the mark
scarcely caring a whit, it seems
I see the sunflower
receiving the beam of power
so well formed by the lathe
of the returning sun's faith
I had wings that flopped here and there
She had legs that spread in the air
She jumped for joy each time I swooned
Even I tripped all over by noon
She would lick all my wounds away
I the ugly swan would shyly play
This beautiful frog with her heart on fire
She heated the very essence of my desire
My wings were clipped from early on
If I tried to fly I only flipped and tumbled
All the other swans did laugh
So alone I was left to fend for myself
She the frog, ever so kind
She took all my pain right out of my mind
So an impulse struck me from I don’t know where
I kissed this frog, right then and there
A princess appeared before my eyes
She smiles and kisses me on the lips
A miracle of sorts did transpire
As we flew away on my wings of desire
Note: Ancient Proverb: A Malaysian Swan never flies far before he drowns