Long Signature Poems

Long Signature Poems. Below are the most popular long Signature by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Signature poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Legend of Zorro

leading covert double life
by day a man about town
by night masked vigilante

he fights for the righteous
brandishing his sword
protecting his people

threatened by villains
masked hero Zorro will duel
prevail and abort evil plots

again save the day
before he rides off
fast and furious on his horse

silhouette in the moonglow
leave behind his signature logo
three fine lines in the shape of a z



AP: 2nd place 2026, Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2025

Submitted on February 22, 2020 for contest YOUR FAVORITE LEGEND sponsored by CHANTELLE ANNE COOKE  -  RANKED 3RD
Form: Ode


Premium Member I don't want to wander those places where our footsteps have long since passed

I don't want to wander those places where our footsteps have long since passed,
Down shaded alleys where our memories whisper and stand guard like stone sentries,
I no longer wish to hear those songs, symphonies of the past, nor let them steal my thought.
To wrap myself in your now absent shawl of longing and your kisses, as though they never were.
Echo of laughter, tightrope walker on the heart's string, I won't let you spin me around,
To recall your face, a bastion of joy, which I would have painted in the most playful hues.
I no longer desire to search for you among fragments of memory, to see you in every little detail,
To excavate your visages from the neglected corners of time's dusty albums.
I miss 'us,' but I don't want to rewrite our story, each page bearing our joint signature.
To no longer yearn for what's been lost, for the echoes of your footsteps that resonated in my chest.
I don't want to cry again, to let the tears of missing you wash over my face.
To let the pain sink into the abyss, no longer feeling each caress that brought solace.
Noon when I no longer summon your laughter, thunderous waves crashing over my soul,
Nor how your face, once an island of happiness lost, could be my guiding light.
I don't want to make you cry or to hurt you, to break the wings of your dreams with my inadequacy,
Please, do not inflict heart scratches anymore, in this ongoing war to remain standing.
I don't want to hear you say you miss me, words like arrows into the vulnerable veins of 'us.'
Nor to utter, even in a whisper, that I miss you, for longing burns like a brand that is not there.
To no longer feel the red-hot iron of love trouble me again,
I'm afraid... To not fall into your net once more, into the weavings of your heart. I don't want to… I don't want to…
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Beyond Infinity

I sit
Alone in the dark
The finite contemplating the infinite 
My mind travels to the stars
Innumberal planets and moons
My World no longer feels so large
It is less than a speck of dust
I travel further
Beyond the stars
To space without end
No beginning no end
Even this void is not enough to hold my God
I look to the microscopic
He also resides in the small
We have only begun to see
The details the intricacies of him
The universes within all worlds
Molecules, atoms, electrons and DNA
His signature pointing the way
Ordered 
Divine
It should increase our faith
Nothing came from time and chance
Here I am the finite
Watching the sun rise
Thankful for another day
I know through Jesus I will become infinite
Limitations will be removed
In the future he will help me understand
For now I am thankful for today

Premium Member Ode To Spring

Ode to Spring

Lovely lady kisses winter good-bye
Then writes her name upon receding snows
Her signature flames in rose twilight skies
Lingering, she begs daylight not to go
Dropping ice bound shrouds of hibernation
From her footsteps shakes off the frozen mists
Lady, full of grace, soars on swallow’s wings
Her monogram stitched into creation,
Floral garlands of aromatic twists
Autograph this her lyrical dayspring.

To blessed spring let us sing out an ave,
Rejoicing in rejuvenation sweet
With choruses of warmth inspired ballet
As beneath sky’s blue metaphor we meet,
Herald her return with trumpet flowers 
And like spring’s troubadours with accolades 
To chant incensed chimes, floral symphonies,
Enter her realm – rest in her sweet bower
Lacy shadows recite in light’s parade
When snow recedes in robin rhapsodies 

Capricious imp, coy mischief in your smile,
You flirt with summer’s serendipity
Teach us to sing the song of spring erstwhile,
You enchant us with new epiphany,
Endless lady lives through time’s dimensions
Bouquets of praise come from our budding boughs,  
Reflecting Heaven’s sweet spring eternal 
You charm the spirit with love’s retention
Then open wide your full womb to endow
Barrenness with victory hibernal.

5-4-22
Contest: Ode
Sponsor: Constance La France
Topic: Nature
Syllables checked with howmanysyllables
Rhymes check with rhymezone
Form: Ode

Premium Member Earth's Lone Cry

I cried  my heart out
For i am hurting, but no one pays attention 
Ozone depletion my signature symptom 
But they wouldn't let go
I cried out until until my tears caused floods  and stirred storms
My piercing cry caused droughts

I changed the times and seasons
To let you know that I was tired 
I needed rest all along, but they would let me be
Trees fell like spent match sticks in a bin
Smoking chimneys like the dragons of old
I cried the more yet no one heard me

Then 2019 came calling Corona virus,
Wuhan set the place and the tone
Then they heard my cry and shut down the factories and the cities and the tanking cars.
The burning gas ceased,  the place of consumption slowed the pace.

Ozone's healing in place suddenly
Nature's respite claimed.
The air smelled better,
The rain fall a reminder of the yonder years.
The Artic and Antarctica  rejoicing
Temperatures going South

The rainbow and the sunshine
My convalescing  signature
Natures circle is turned full cycle.
Covid-19 a blessing in disguise.
  (Written on the 14th May, 2020)
Form: Ballad


Premium Member Reading Between the Waves

I found myself
struggling for a sounding board
between the sandwiches of lunch,
dinner, and savory understanding.

There are birds between
songs.
They sing resoundingly
better than me.

I ran by a pond at dusk
when no one was looking,
but little me, who struggled to see
meaning where the colors
separate for separate
identity.  

The common grackles 
grackle to be heard,
like all of us with a working pulse,
arguing at the end of a day.

I signed my signature tonight
for a loan I don't understand.
There are things bigger 
and smaller than me,
ants and fireflies,
that challenge infinity 
and confuse the calmness
of understanding. 

I will go home
and try again 
tomorrow.
© CC Bloom  Create an image from this poem.

Impromptu Song

I have waited for so long to share this impromptu song, I have created it myself, the day when I heard that my mother was dead; I am still trying to process it, but I cannot see where the story fits;I was twelve and my brother was fifteen, three years separate us apart and the day she died my entire world came apart.

She was all that I had to keep me for being, sad and the call that she made when she was on that date was the biggest mistake that she had ever made. It was easy for them to trace the call and find her location abroad, I didn’t know that was the last time I was going to speak to her or I would have told her that I loved her and my heart would be at ease.

Everything happens so fast and here I am exiled in the dark, living in a strange country estrange from the royal family, and the people that I love so dear cannot take the time to celebrate my signature line with me. Everyone is busy and they cannot adjust their schedule to join me. 

Here I am all alone celebrating the games anniversary without a crown; I wish my mother was around she would have driven out all the fear  and smile; she was so bold and I loved having her around, but now I am a grown man but every time I  think about her it makes my spirit sad my heart starts yearning for thee.

 I have tried not to think about it, and I kept wondering why Paparazzi did it, I have a strong inclination to open up the case to put the conspire to bed and reveal the truth of how my mother died .

Was the accident meant for her or was it meant for the company that was with her, it was arrange and the probe was not in vain but the act of adultery in broad day light would have ended in a sacrifice. I still cannot see were the story fits,  pull the puzzle apart and shine the light into the dark.

I can still see the procession moving along and my brother and I walking behind the horse driven casket; how much that memory haunts me and tarnishes my childhood prosperity .If I had to make one wish that would be to see her alive again and I would thank her for making that heartfelt sacrifice.

 I have composed this Impromptu song and I want the royal family to sing it with me, to erase Dina's painful memory.

I have never gotten over it and mercy has spared me from going over the cliff. Tell my father to come and see me and have biscuits and tea with me.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Luster Of Love


The dazzling dawn lights up my heart,
spreads the spectrum of luminous longing
on my fervent garden blooming with love.
Flowing with the current of your charismatic allure, 
my avid ardor sails to the sunrise bay of bliss,
where my love weaves the lilting lattice in your sky.

You fly in the secluded sky I’ve made mine,
the winds of romance never stop to blow 
with love from the hued skyline of sensual shine
for the buds of my unfurling heart, 
for they “own your signature” fragrant.

The sparkling dawn suffuses my heart’s horizon, 
when the sunburst spectral finesse 
like “your fingers around my soul”
paints a divine garden blooming with my love,
unfurls the facsimile of your astral florid face. 

The eventide sun spreads gold in my garden,
as “you kiss me when the sun sleeps” 
I see your beauty blossom 
like sapphire stars in my alluring arms. 
The pristine patina of glistened iris glows
in your dreamy eyes with the lilting luster of love.

The rose sheen flushes your tender cheeks,
reminds me “I’m a vampire rose”,
but you make me realize my lost love return 
with the grandeur of diamond dew.
As you become mine 
the rhapsody ripples in the mesmeric meadow 
of my halcyon heart, 
and I float in the air of euphoria.

Premium Member Poetry

poetry 
deep sentiments expressed through the pen,
hard to say why it flows and when,
it is a signature of thoughts that are formed within,
said with tears or smiles without guilt or feelings of sin!
the turbulent stream that carries the life rafts about,
has twists and turns in a dark maze of its own,
journeys are long and exhausting to say the least,
after hours of rowing could be back at the starting crease! 
say it freely and say it without hindrance of fear,
like a songbird that sings for its own pleasure,
no audience to applaud or jealous critics to disown,
once written the poetry sails on its own sojourn!
is it about some pain and songs of unfair defeats?
a lost friend or dear one who has left a memory to mourn,
may be a pet that doesn’t answer evening whistle,
or a child that never returned from school!
when loneliness greets life with coffee as only companion,
a half done crossword blocked by repetitive boredom,
when next moment is as predictable as the one that is gone,
when the evening ends and know the next day to be born,
a verse expressed through the heart may bring cheer,
remember to sign it with your heart or smudge it with tears.

10th place
Completely your choice(44)
Brian Strand sponsor
Written 15/01/2021

Premium Member Sampler On the Parlor Wall

Picture on the Parlor Wall 9-27-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sampler on the Parlor Wall

Shadows born from dawdling light
Stretch across a firelit room set with porcelain cups,
From tea parties long ago and faraway,
With an invitation to sample sweets and savories
Like the sampler on the parlor wall.

Beneath neat rows of alphabets stories gather,
Verses stitched with silk and dreams
And numbers that taught a woman’s craft –
A child’s wishes fly with birds and lady bugs –
Wishes to convince a suitor at the door of her wifely worth
In tidy stitches foreshadowing an orderly life.

A young lady-girl in pantaloons and blue sashes
Weaves circles of symphonic dots in French wheels
While lazy daisy chains meander on her linen fields -
Magic flares in her zigzag lines, her wishes on wooly stars.

No signature remains from her little hand -
Her hearth, her home, her heart –
Only a legacy of butterflies and roses sampled on a parlor wall
And a tiny scarlet dot of imperfection like a signature remains
Embroidered into a sampler embracing each dawn and dusk.

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