Long Snowy Poems
Long Snowy Poems. Below are the most popular long Snowy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Snowy poems by poem length and keyword.
Winter's Perfect Heat
“Snowflakes gather in crystalline drfitings”
Lifting your hair, kissing the nape of your neck
Warm flesh waits on tippy toe desires
Lips brush skin, lower beyond silver chain clasp
Sighs slip past moon shadow echoes
“Frost bitten warnings fuel whistling winds”
Candlelight flickers in illumined frenzy
Strong hands caress velvet curves, moving
Satin petals excite at the touch, firming
Mouths meet across milky shoulders
“Chilly coatings mingle, drafty windows squeal”
Reaching behind delicate fingers guide, slowly
Passion emanates from quivered partings
Honey drippings moisten, sticky, sweet
Whispered moans tantalize, moments ignite
“Wind chimes sing frantically behind icicle curtains”
Down pillow yearnings, grasped, held
Eyes look back, smiles meet motions
Held closer, breathless exhales on dreams exposed
Deeper finds the pristine moment
“Algid gusts wail through frigid echoed alleyways”
Names loudly called, enchanted nirvana
Faster still, bodies in charged friction
Two become one, senses explode, flooding oasis
Eruptions quake bodies in perspired heap
“Arctic blast pierces sweltering pleasures”
Ecstasy sings in midnight harmonies
Melodic as the polar pulsations beyond
Numbed in devotion’s destinations
Wondrous snowy white blankets chill the world
“As our love provides winter’s perfect heat”
Good night Soupers
A vision seized me, before
The marriage of my kin.
Betrothed to a faith apart,
Like a stray from the hallowed ground;
where forefathers had etched:
A devout Catholic and a pioneer,
A premonition of life truth.
I wandered through the paddy field,
Where crystal water surged;
Fishes of all sizes I had a huge catch.
Between, a river parted,
As white as a snowy flake and high;
Down and below, muddy water reaches their neck.
A laundry basket, brimming over their balanced head
I waved them to join me where abundance flowed.
But they insisted on not coming,
For they had decided their life: shallow and creek
They'd to fetch the water with a small mug.
Life's destiny weaves one's tapestry
And no external forces can confine us.
THIS POETRY IS WRITTEN IN 3 HAIKU/2 TANKA FORM, AND NOTES REFER TO SENSES.
I'm fairy nature,
come to collect fall's leaf wares
to help make a coat.
A coat of sunsets,
a last breath of summer's glow
to wrap up autumn.
I disguise myself
living amongst the woodlands,
squirrels, bugs, birds, bees.
Slowly with magic
I single handed turn
the seasons over.
Sweeping winds and driving rains,
giving nature rest till spring.
I nourish the land.
Autumn's blanket becomes crisp,
stark, white, purity.
I contrast, redecorate
new, sleek, sexy, wavy tones.
AUTHOR NOTES
All 5 senses are expressed within this write, looking at touch, taste, sight, sound and smell.
'make a coat','wrap up' all indicate being touched or enfolded for warmth/protection...as does
winter's 'blanket'
sounds - could be taken from the animals, and weather...'crisp' evokes sound also. 'rest'-
evokes quieter times...
smell - comes from earthy woodlands and fallen leaves, contrasted with freshness of icy or
snowy air...
taste - evoked from 'nourish', 'last breath' of Autumn and new breath of winter air.
sight- comes from the autumn colours evoked from the 'sunset' and greens and browns
of 'woodlands', 'sexy', purity of ice and snow, 'falls leaf wares' - reds, oranges, yellows and
browns...
At church I ask the priest for absolution,
and I am ready for any atonement and Penance;
I Quiver thinking of it- for I am angry,
oh, so angry with God for taking my grandma away.
Last night I had a dream or at least I think it was,
it is a Quandary really because it felt so real;
for standing so Poise and elegant was grandma,
with her beautiful Platinum pearly, snowy hair.
I recognized her fragrant Perfume at once,
we were standing in a whimsical Quaint place;
it felt strange to me that a boat was waiting.
in a Quay and grandma stepped aboard it.
No words were spoken as she waved goodbye,
and I watched the boat fading into the distance;
till grandma was gone . . .
_______________________
February 7, 2021
Poetry/Verse/Grandma is Gone
Copyright Protected, ID 02-326-863-07
All rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Mind Your P's and Q's
sponsor, Michelle Faulkner, Judged 03/06/2021
In the throes of madness,
Some have said acuteness of the senses is a level no man can know unless he himself is mad
A return to instinct allows the senses to guide you through the work that's to be done
A heart broken--- knows how to guide a blade quickly across the wrist
or anothers throat
You sing a 'melodious plot' with "full-throated ease"
but a refrain in the illusion of hope
At the thought of the faked horizon or a child's laughter and we carry on even when we stop in the snow mesmerized by the
sweep of easy wind or downy flake
Conscious of the palsy shake of old men
That allow us to be in love with easeful death.
The whistle of the nightingale or the whisper of the the snowy wind
Or in the end we sing of sunsets or sorrow full well knowing tomorrow
is not our old friend.
And so it comes, this time of year
November starts, Christmas so near
Animals yawn, sense their big sleep
Farmers hay sheds, piled high and steep
A breeze descends, from arctic climes
Cold and icy, brief days less time
Great pines snuggle close together
Know what’s in store, snowy weather
The bison coats, grow much thicker
Suns going down, even quicker
Silent nights, reflect lonely streams
Only broken, by coyote screams
Lay November Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
02/12/2020
Syllable counter PS 12x8
Rhyme check rhyme zone
My blessing basket is heavy with heaven's gifts,
Tomatoes the size of my fist, eggplants so cute,
And fresh heirloom beans bursting with pride.
The sun, orange on the horizon, frames a pair of
Snowy Egrets above, wings folded in glide descent,
Angling towards their roost.
A solitary Cricket, at home in the cabbage patch,
seesaws a hypnotic greeting, then hushes
As I pass.
A Monarch Butterfly wisps past my head, enjoying
Nectar from scattered flowers. The scent of herbs,
Blossoms and love settles softly in my heart.
I know life can be hard, but this moment, just
This moment, I'm filled with such Grace from
God I only stand in humble gratitude.
Look high to the hills to see peaks of icy water laden tops
Water is flowing downwards into winding streams
The permeation of ponds, lakes, rivers and the mighty seas
Thus a supply-chain like feed supplying all watery needs
The Sun's fierce heat induces water evaporation
A dark daunting nimbostratus starts hovering
A mystical misty moist cloud of condensation
that produces many rain droplets pouring
White-water overflows in steep canyon gorges
Grapes, figs and dates in the fields are made ripened
Flowers flourish and many fruits can be eaten
Water is flowing resolutely and continually,
into the great ocean's mouth
Sun's incandescence purifies water:
Water vapors are making an upward ascension
to clouds of cumulus, cirrocumulus and cirrus
These are white fluffy aeronautical rain vehicles
The waters again start descending:
To form again white snowy watery capped ice tops
This upon many mountains zenith spots
This a perpetual, continuous, isochronism
of the Life supporting cycle:
Ice, Liquid and Vapor
All making an ever vibrant and repeated musical
crescendo, nature's "Watery Phases"
Cloudy skies explode into puffs of snowy flakes,
Harbingers of excitement, and sweet sugar cakes.
Ringing bells, peal, and chime, blessing this joyous day,
Inviting all to celebrate Jesus's birthday.
Santa's reindeer are all set for their magic flight
To deliver presents, to every child's delight.
Mommies and daddies are all smiles and hugs of love,
As youngsters eagerly search the dark skies above.
Slumber, fuels dreams of elves and a flying sleigh,
Dozing off, sleepy children dream of Christmas Day.
All the months of waiting are coming to an end,
Yuletide spirits bring smiles: though Santa's just pretend.
'Twas a cold wintry day
the road was frozen white and gleamin'
a pale sun stood over the clouds
watching them float lazily by
in the corner of a street
on a flat stone, so to speak
sat an old man, bearded and bare
he is the sailor with the one-eyed look
Sat as straight as a ramrod, did he,
back to the blizzard, now astride
with fingers so numb, eyes dim to see
getting a ha'penny from a passer-by
tramps and urchins flocked at he,
told them stories of the seas, he did
with arms a'waving like sails, you see
a gleam of joy in his eyes show'd
For he'd been to the wars
sailing on the ships of Her Majesty
seen it all, he's did, and lived,
came back home to muffins and tea
t'was on the seas he lost an eye
plucked out in an enemy fight
wounded and left behind to die
but didn't, and now home and dry
Retired from Her Majesty's service, he'd
now homeless, helpless, this once proud sailor
left with neither coin, nor a roof over his head
forced to the slums, living out of the gutter
t'was a piteous sight to behold, fie it!
would'a loved to chomp on choicy bit
displayed in the streets like in mama's kitchen
but not for his palate, just to be seen
Then it came, one bright sunny day
oh, what a bliss from snow and hail
tramps and children, out to play
free from the fear of icy pain
but alas! no sign of the sailor
save a snowy effigy, and on it his comb
for while snow lasted, the snow tailor'd
a snowy covering on him; it was his tomb!