Long Slate gray Poems
Long Slate gray Poems. Below are the most popular long Slate gray by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slate gray poems by poem length and keyword.
Roundup lassoes, swinging
Roping stars of wide open country
Sweetheart moon is swooning
Cowboy smiles wrangling darlins
Tobacco spitt’n anywhere the varmint wants
Yellow taxis the color of the sun
Brighten the slate gray egregious city
The pace of walkers as short
Or long as the length of their legs
Spoiled dogs slow them down mean
People drag them by their ordinary collars
Honking horns and finger signs
Freely expressed
Southern gentlemen so polite
Extend an invite with their drawling intent
On fishing, hunting, and a slow cooked dinner
With the misses then a few missed phone calls
Messages overflowing on the other end
fingers tapping, knuckles bruising, years passing
Northerners abrupt but follow through
Quick to snap things done
Even if the wife waits and waits for dinner
The North won
The war but the South is free to ignore
Yet the gentleman runs
Goes all out when his neighbors shout help
puts the burgers on
as his kids obey his every command
yes, sir
US Americans are a riot
A riotting bunch
With pitchforks and torches
No, wait that was Transylvania...in the old country
Still, you get the point
Speaking of stills…
Free to drink since prohibition of prohibition but
Don’t drink and drive or drive and text
And wait until you’re twenty one
Liberating expression
Leads to catastrophic cacophony
Taking knees
Meddling with the media
Flagellating flags
Beating up on confederate statues
Digging graves to bury history
Building walls
Forging freedom rings
Freedom rings…
8/24/2018
Majestic White Mountains surround me, I travel the curvy road
They call this road the ‘Kanc’ for short, where panoramic views are sowed
Green valley’s lay beneath me, with rivers in the ravines quite deep
The slate gray rocky cliffs I pass by, look like murals, slopes are steep
A patchwork of color blankets the far reaching, lush, mountainside
Where white puffy clouds circulate around the top, floating to hide
Amidst the pines, the clean air I breathe is cool, refreshing and clear
I pass by turn out spots for viewing and hiking trails everywhere
In the fall you will find the old man who sells apples at his stand
Where you can try different kinds or buy some cider he has on hand
In the winter, the snow paints the mountains and trees a shining white
Where fallen flakes and ice crystalize everything there is in sight
The State Forest is nearby where people visit, the wildlife roam
I view all this with gratitude, to live where mountains are my home
Heidi Sands
8/9/17
*Placed 4th in the contest: Mountains
Gazing out my window
Slate-gray day, wind whipping
Leaves uprooted, skittering along
October surely gone wrong
Saw rain slant across the lawn
Threatening skies all around
A day to stay inside the house
I trembled like a frightened mouse...
A knock at the door froze me but good
Perhaps a ghost from nearby woods
I opened my door a tiny crack -- anyone there?
'Twas an anxiety attack that had me scared
Opened the door a little bit more
A pleasant surprise for me in store
The wind was warm, the weather pleasing
Sweet October's return ~ my panic now easing
~ Musings on an October night
where the weather's changing ~
Nestled is the slender twisting trail canyon between timeless steep
aspiring mountains and meditative sopheric sea waters
The frail road deepens into lofty thickness further from the harsh
volcanic valley where passion’s throes are ever in abeyance as days grind
on at a petty pace, as winding cathartic minds strive to be free and leave their
fears of mortal sin, intrusive family— religious dogma dismissive, oppressive
My yearning heart writhes in agonizing prose knowing senses magma
guilt etched into my very core, now behind
I’ll unwind, in a soft bed of sand that awaits
Spring’s strong winds of life call, visible the sea in the
distance, in instance, heads tilt, abut, falling upon my
wooer’s shoulder, he presses gears, downshifts reaching tireless
slate-gray force spreading over ocean floors flooding with no remorse
An uncommon gallantry he displayed, a warrior’s valiant looks
fired up my very essence
A dimming sun immerses into a hesitant horizon, sweeping breezes spin
warm spells embracing an enchanter’s realm,
with its charm he gazed into languid eyes
Silhouettes stark, foreheads bow, touch, sweetened sweat from
jasmine bushes alongside the road, perks of riding the stallion of steel
evoked smiles in sideview mirror, heated rims, spokes spun
Dismount a stroll, toes sank in sand, holding hands dodging driftwood
washed ashore, I chose a serpent shaped, a souvenir!
I’d glue turquoise stone eyes, a keepsake, or an omen?
Zena’s cove of guilty pleasures seal fates, certainly
not rhythmic lapping waves against the shore nor salmon sunset
or a waxing crescent moon, and not the wistful ocean’s teary spray
Its tears wetted my cheeks in afterglows
Lest moonlit sky amongst shy hidden stars
Pangs subside, panic betides, doctrine ridden not from our marrow
Womb’s flower in bloom, a secret kept, an advent arrival
The planets wept, forms beyond birth of celestial bodies,
one existence yet does sin exist in celestial angels?
He held tightly, softly whispered let’s run away,
his proposal on adulthood’s precarious cusp,
bestowed him a refusal, sweet youth ruins
Alas and alack life proceeds
steady as ebb and flow of the tides
After a precious gem she’s named, sweet lord
never more blissful, daughter
Caressed are tranquil ocean waves
Sitting in a cloak of black conservatism:
I feel my hands,
oily on the desk like shortening in
slate gray cookie pans,
the speedway inside forcing the absence of
reabsorption,
And my thoughts,
so flippant to implore
if a man with a chartreuse neck tie
can see the long wet streaks
across the cherry plane.
He speaks,
a sequence of interrogatives
common to the bored walls
of serious conference,
evoking tone inflection
in the pattern of polite.
Darest I mention truth?
I am your whore;
infect me with smug integrity,
smack me with false prophet leadership,
just leave some crisp bills
on the nightstand, sugar.
Yet my voice models his wavelength,
relaying back the catchy tired language
of one hit wonders;
eyes brighten,
hands extend
from the man who owns a chartreuse tie.
Sigh.
Still,
complacency
awards a loaf of Wonder bread,
and a two bedroom lower.
Round and round I go
Unfolding my spirit of envy and gold
The nascence of a new stone
Hazel room, vibrant lilac sky,
Deep orange haze in a tender place
Arms of sapphire and cornflower blue
Fuchsia beauty drips, covering my ruby lips
All colors drift
On the first day, we met
Visions of dark slate-gray fade away
Firing up the new-age gem
Turning and creating different stars
Magic mint skies
White antique petals follow the current of air
Opal dreams, clouds embedded with impurity
My heartbeat produces flashing colors
The palest amethyst bluebonnet forever fields
Flawless tear-drop streams
Diamond shaped love
Ruby Red promises to keep
Flowing into the deep
Every color spins new
The day I fell in love with you
Peridot lime green tint
A love as old and gray
Olive brownish sun
Honeydew skin
Our future, deeper than aquamarine
Every day you turn fresh new seasons in me
Changing the sequence in my colors and effect
Kaleidoscope Eyes
Reflect by the mirrors of you
Crystallizing everything
As the sun tinges the horizon
A pale shade of rose
Beauty touches the slate gray sky
White canvas painted exposed
Surround sound of Dove's voices
Coos echo on all sides
Roosters' fill in the deep bass sound
Mockingbirds' tone abides
All song birds in chorus sing out
on this still quiet morn
Melodies lift above trials
As the Doves' song is born
There's that stillness saying wait
Rest before one of life's storms
The Holy Spirit does comfort
In my heart there's His form
No matter what life's trials present
The Comforter is there
Like the assurance of a daily
Sunrise no need to despair
As the orange sun glows like embers
Through the silhouetted trees
Thoughts run to the Savior's anguish
Who did so much for me
He made this awesome provision
The gift of the Comforter
Just reach out and touch the Savior
He's the great Affirmer
Slate gray streets made even darker by cutting raindrops
Umbrellas popping up everywhere, people seeking shelter
But I stayed put, wanting to get drained with the rain,
then I hear this tinkling voice that says, “Don’t you just love it when it rains?!”
I look at her wearily and her eyes actually gleam with laughter
Oh geez, this lady was my total opposite. I was brooding, she was brimming.
I power-up my go away vibes, but she was like a darned magnet…
Was I the ferromagnetic one, or was she?
She gushed on the metaphor of rain in her life, and I didn’t feel like drowning.
Listening to her amidst the onslaught was so refreshing, making me thirstier…
There we were, two drenched souls, sitting on the pavement, chatting up a storm.
Of all her descriptions of rain, one in particular stood out for me…
Pearl drops strung on silver strands …
She said, “Rain for me would be silver strands streaking an otherwise somber sky…
pearl drops strung on silver strands, broken by the heavens to share with us.
See how precious it is?” Then she continued on with the metaphor for pearls…
Her words felt like windshield wipers to me, and I could see clearly now
By then, the rains had softened, and a lone pearl drop landed on her eyelashes
-that made me look closer at her eyes… her beautiful, wise, yet cloudy eyes…
I have never looked at rain the same way since then.
For Andrea's and Susan's Silver Strands contest
The mountain was crested with snow
towering in the slate gray sky
Oh, how it made me wonder why?
Where I am going, I don't know!
A light wind whistled through the trees
Could answers be calling to me?
In this familiar place to be?
I tried to listen with some ease.
Then, it seemed the mountain did speak
with strength across the frozen ice
It brought me some thoughts, oh so nice!
Beauty all around,, nothing bleak
The crested mountain had its say
This moment for beauty to touch
The rest didn't matter so much
Absorbed with silver, white and gray
Heidi Sands
1/13/25
*8 Syllables
(C)opyright
(In Nordic mythology Asgard is a location associated with the God)
He darkened my skies to make way for the stars said she
inside her lonely Universe there wasn't any "we"
and the music was low and the storms they did blow
within scars there were scars, appearing in toe
He hollered from heaven to catch her off guard
but enclosed in herself she was far from Asgard
and the thunder did boom and the rain it did fall
as she begged him to answer her call
He painted her canvass with black and slate gray
encased in her soul was a heart made of clay
He stretched out his hand and healed every cut
she knew she was found by the feel of her gut
He darkened her skies for the stars to come out,
yes he heard every whisper and heard every shout !