Long Sit Poems
Long Sit Poems. Below are the most popular long Sit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sit poems by poem length and keyword.
Scrambling onto the rich green and purple magic carpet,
I waited in eager anticipation, for her golden threads fascinated me.
“Quiet!” the pirate king cautioned.
Reading mirth in my mind?
I turned and smiled.
The carpet started off, and I promptly sat.
I grabbed the genii’s leg as I fell and he smacked me.
“Sit down!” the genii told the Pirate King.
Pirate King laughed.
He was not used to orders.
He fell off twice.
The first time we swooped down and saved him.
I imagine he thought we would do it again,
but we didn’t.
I stared at genii.
No worries, he told me. I will turn him into an eagle,
and he did.
I sit alone to wonder why things are how they are
I sit alone with no ones shoulder to cry on
I sit alone with not even myself to rely on
I trust many yet never myself
I have lost so much over the years
because i give out my heart and soul to freely
so much so that I lost who I really was in the process
I long to be who I used to be
happy, not with how I looked, but who I was
and the people I loved were the ones I could trust
with everything
But see I had let them go
because I trusted in me not what I had
sometimes I break down from seeing how the years
have gone
funny you don't notice while they are flying by
but one day you suddenly stop and start to cry
and you wonder how you made it through without
the family and friends you once knew
and little ones have grown up in a blind of an eye
and you were hardly there to see it happening
once you realize that time is slipping away from you
you may feel like there's not much you can do
I did
but then for me, my family and friends welcomed me back
with open arms
and it's so good to be here with everyone again
had it not been for everyone being there for me
supporting me, and telling me how I could do this or that
I wouldn't be able to continue on looking for people
from my past who weigh heavily on my mind
they have been extremely hard to find
but I still try, and am starting to hold my head up high
and perhaps sooner than later I will not
sit alone to wonder any longer
Mary Magdeline and Mary the mother of Jesus the Christ
went to the tomb was Jesus was laid after the sacrifice
it was a risky venture but they felt a powerful need
to go forth to give Jesus a proper burial with God-speed
the Roman soldiers were standing about to guard the grave site
so that none could steal the body of Jesus in the still of the night
but when both Marys reached the tomb they saw that the stone had been rolled away
and sitting upon it was an Angel of the Lord and to them It did say
wearing raiment white as snow It said to them "to have no fear"
for the One you seek has arisen and His body is no longer here
no longer was Jesus in that tomb which was His enemies' place of defeat
no stone blocking the entrance that would have made His destruction complete
Jesus would not be shut in nor His people to be shut out
an Angel of the Lord sitting on that stone which had cried out
in order to demonstrate dominion over anything in this life
you need to just sit on it and then claim it in the name of Christ
to eradicate the pain, to exterminate the anger, to eliminate the bitterness
to extinguish the hate we need to sit on it in the name of righteousness
so put all those negative things in life under your feet
dominion over all of it the next phase to go out and meet
it was my resurrection too on that day when Jesus arose
it was my resurrection too on that day it was Him I chose
His resurrection power now resides inside of me
His resurrection power has secured my destiny
arisen from the dead and now sitting at the right hand of God
dominion over everything with a righteousness of heart
God rolling away the stones in my life that have tried to hinder and defeat
God rolling away the obstacles in preparation for my journey to be complete
it was my resurrection too, a new life I have been given
it was my resurrection too and by the power of His blood I'm now driven
God rolling away the stones and all those negative things in my life
just sitting on them with dominion and the blessings of my Lord Jesus Christ
Come sit upon my deck, it is covered
with birdsong; bedecked in peace.
Come tarry; let me pour a warm beverage
of chocolate, tea or coffee. Listen
to the tweets, twitters, bird-sweets.
Come sit close, listen to nothing at all,
but the peace between two friends.
We will wait, we will watch for a.m. deer.
Quietly, we sit, side by side, as the sun
gives rise, reveling in God’s mercy -
day by day, with Summer bare feet,
sound mind, promise of newness.
Come sit, as friends do, then eventually,
their lips part with a passing remark.
Nothing cool or wise, just a soothing tone,
that lets the silent world know there’s life.
Quietude trains, it is painted with rain
and wildlife. Come, as the cool of morning,
touches a heart of flesh and pink pyjamas.
Come, as I sip my two-serving cup of peace
and quiet, whistles, hooting, no hollering.
There’s an occasional chirp, rarely a deer.
Here’s hoping. Yesterday, I spied one alone,
who hid behind a tree, momentarily, though
it did not see me. Come, I say, come. I watch.
We’d watch, or talk, or both. Perhaps, I’ve said
too much. Let’s listen, as my skin steams,
from my guzzled caffeine. Birds dance before me.
From where I sit.
The dark gray clouds,
producing the rain,
that continues to tap,
against the window pain.
The absence of blue,
in the sky above,
brings dreary thoughts,
a life without love.
If God in his heaven,
could answer one prayer,
and send me relief,
lift darkness and despair.
It’s not a perfect woman,
my heart truely seeks,
but loving and warm,
true heart that keeps.
Now out the window,
a slight crack in the gray,
and a yellow beam of light,
does brighten the day.
A slight buzz on the phone,
and a picture appears,
a smile from my daughter,
brings me to tears.
So let it be said,
that a response to prayers,
perhaps wisdom,
from the one who cares.
So from where I sit,
not the answer I sought,
rather,
an awareness to be taught.
I sit gazing by the candlelight
Trying to see my paper so I can write
A poem for you with a theme that’s right
So everyone can read about our plight
Know our whole story and gain insight
Of overcoming odds we had to fight
That made a bond that withstood all might
Which told the truth because we had the rite
But does have a passion that does excite
That pulls you in slowly and holds you tight
Makes you hang on the words from day to night
With an ending that is full of delight
And has a morel of love that will never be finite
All done as I sit gazing by the candlelight
For Russell Sivey's By CandleLight contest
Written by Kevin Clark
I once volunteered to babysit a dog; really, how hard could that be?
She looked at me with pitiful eyes, “Would you please watch my little puppy?”
“Sure”, I said, “I’d love to do it. Just bring him over tonight.”
“A little puppy”, is what she said, but that description didn’t fit him just right.
Only eight months old a puppy might be, that concept isn’t too hard,
But “little” isn’t an accurate word when describing a St. Bernard.
I didn’t slobber-proof myself or my things, didn’t know I had to do it,
My rain coat on and plastic coverings, was the only way I could get through it.
What he didn’t chew or eat right through he slobbered from bottom to top;
I chased him around with a leap and a bound; tracing every step with my new mop.
When she returned at the end of the week my apartment was quite the mess;
“Thank you so much, how can I repay you?” “Please, next time just loose my address!”
Come sit and talk a spell, dear wind,
Whisper soft where you’ve been,
Through valleys green, past mountain tops,
In twilight’s hush, where day’s light stops.
Tell me, waves, of the ocean deep,
Where secrets swirl and shadows creep.
Your endless pulse, a song so true,
Lull me now, beneath skies blue.
Oh seas, you cradle the world in time,
Swaying slow with rhythm and rhyme.
Do ships still dance upon your crest,
And dream of shores, of peaceful rest?
Leaves, come chatter in your flight,
Waltzing free in golden light.
The bushes hum with a quiet grace,
As trees stand tall, a leafy embrace.
In the hush of evening’s sigh,
Let’s sit and talk, just you and I.
The world spins slow when nature speaks,
In whispers soft and secrets deep.
By Phan Tan Hai
Was it you returning with the sunlight,
drifting into the night of my dreams,
waking to wait through long-haired darkness—
so many seasons keeping vigil with moon and stars.
Was it I, from a hundred lifetimes,
coming back to find you with graying hair,
the thousand-mile midnight rain still waking,
a sad bird tilting its wings toward nowhere.
Was it lovers returning to call,
their words hidden in ancient tongues,
copied into lines of tear-stained verse,
singing along to a lost melody of the old lute.
I searched for you across foreign skies,
in a time of utter innocence;
bird tracks pressed into the endless wind,
wings blown thin beneath a fading moon.
A time so full of sorrow—
what use is waiting for beauty;
a kiss saved from a former life
meets again only to part once more.
I sat chanting sutras half a lifetime,
rain whitening the long, long road;
I stood beneath the sky and cried out,
inviting you home to look upon impermanence.
Is it spring leaving, summer arriving,
your eyes carrying the sadness of autumn;
leaves falling with a grief like weeping,
winter hiding its lullaby in secret.
Come count with me the drifting clouds—
our lives turning through countless rebirths,
our steps wandering in endless fog;
I ask you to sit down, to stop.
Half a lifetime I’ve sat in repentance,
ink and paper copying sacred words;
I invite you to stay awake with me till dawn—
silent, still, awaiting the morning light.
Some may think they’re an aficionado
but do they hold a poetry degree
They sit on their high horse with bravado
it’s from there that they cast judgement on me
I have seen some dish out trophy places
which unsurprisingly go to their friends
Such blatant favoritism disgraces
and deters others picking up their pens
Not all of the sponsors are impartial
sadly some can’t write the forms that they set
They judge poems and not a court martial
so will I enter their contests – you bet!
I consider John’s a discerning judge …
Will I get first place if he’s bribed with fudge?
A somewhat tongue in cheek poem for
JUDGE NOT LEST YE BE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
05/04/21