Long Soft Poems
Long Soft Poems. Below are the most popular long Soft by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Soft poems by poem length and keyword.
A Hope for Love and Peace
(to tune of “Chariots of Fire”)
Verse 1:
A hope for my nation – a great hope I have.
A hope for this planet – a hope for us all.
Verse 2:
May peace like white snow with a soft satin glow
(this peace filled with God’s light) upon us all fall.
Refrain:
We pray, but our words -will they be heard?
We pray to the Lord above.
We pray, but our words will be in vain
unless we show love.
We all have our faults, but a kind heart
can generate love’s light.
When love fills our hearts, we’ll realize
that peace is the prize!
Verse 3:
A hope burning brightly like sun in the sky.
This hope for all nations – may it fill each soul.
Verse 4:
We need to be thankful and turn back to God,
so He can then heal us, making us whole.
Repeat Refrain:
We pray, but our words -will they be heard?
We pray to the Lord above.
We pray, but our words will be in vain
unless we show love.
We all have our faults, but a kind heart
can generate love’s light.
When love fills our hearts, we’ll realize
that peace is the prize!
Repeat Verses 1 and 2:
A hope for my nation – a great hope I have.
A hope for this planet – a hope for us all.
May peace like white snow with a soft satin glow
(this peace filled with God’s light) upon us all fall.
Fade out with last phrase repeated at least four times:
Upon us all fall
upon us all fall, etc.
For Mohan Chutani's Hope Poetry Contest
Every day I awake in a place where the sky
is a mist mourning sleep. I stumble on a tower—
leaning, broken, alone. Its stones call my name
like someone trying to rouse me, like someone
who’s rung before.
Roots coil up its cracked sides,
ivy’s thin fingers drag me forward,
pulling at my steps like they know where I should go.
I can feel it—something’s waiting at the top,
something shifting in the shadows and growing
restless. As I climb, the stones are cold and quiet,
the kind of silence that wraps around you—
heavy as the grief of an unheld hand.
Near the top, the fog lifts just enough—
reveals a room I don’t know, but the smell
of damp earth makes it feel like a memory.
The walls curve inward, as if they’re listening.
In the corner, a chair rocks—
slowly, creaking, though there is no wind.
I step closer and hear a whisper.
Sit, it says. You’ve been here before.
The air is thick with mildew, it feels like breathing
through cloth, too dense for this closeness.
I don’t want to comply, but my feet move anyway,
toward the rocking chair, toward this place
where the strange weight of morning mist
is still rolling in.
The whisper turns soft, almost gentle:
You’ve been lost here for so long.
The words settle in my chest, next to the truth—
I am the whisper, the stone, the mist.
That’s the gist—I am the one who called myself here.
The one who long ago left, but never let go.
I want to scream, but my voice is a ghost.
I close my eyes, and I fall—
back into the fog,
back to the beginning
where the tower leans in the distance.
Have you hugged your teddy today?
And show him the love that comes his way
How much you need his comforting smile
Because he will be there all the while
To cheer you up when you are down
And make you lose that worried frown
Who knows, he may be your Guardian Angel in disguise
Maybe to you that’s why he seems so very wise
Always seems to be there when he is needed
Listens intently and every word is heeded
His soft brown arms will cuddle you tight
Under the blankets all through the night
And he always has his cheeky grin
No matter what mood you may be in
However, his eyes are getting loose a bit
And his coat is threadbare and a tightly fit
He still loves you never fret
Because he is the best friend, you will ever get
BURGER KING
In a kingdom where hunger is king,
Burger royalty is humongously a thing.
Crowned in buns of sesame seed,
Each bite satisfies our carnivorous need.
With cheezy indulgence & toppings aplenty,
Here's a palace where taste reigns gently.6
Sat upon the throne, his presence unperturbed,
The Burger King, with food powers so absurd.
Wearing a royal robe draped on his shoulders,
Crowns all around him, he makes his orders,
He's black and proud, regal and bold,
A crown atop his head, shining in purest gold.¹²
A majestic burger upon his lap, stealing our sights,
A feast fit for a king, piled high with delight,
Overflowing with toppings, a tantalizing sight.
His subjects & rivals marveled, unable to compete,
For this was a burger, so legendary and sweet.
Burger stacked nicely, in mountains high,
Scattered underneath the fast food sky,¹?
With McDonald’s on the left, filled with chips solely.
Sesame bun so soft, as if it whispered a story,
Lettuce so green, adding a touch of glory,
Tomatoes bursting with goodness, fresh & ripe,
The aroma of sizzling patties, an enticing type,
The burger is a temptation hard to swipe.²5
At Burger King, every burger lover are kings,
As we enjoy whoppers towering, & chicken wings.
But if you ever stumble upon a black king's reign,
You might just witness a burger, driving him insane.
Burger King sits atop till the going down of the sun.
So let us embrace laughter & share in the fun,³¹
For life's too short for burgers to weigh us down,
And not too heavy to burden or make us frown.
Let us remember, in this humorous tale,
That even king enjoy food that makes them exhale.
Whether sitting on a throne or in a fast-food joint,
A love for deliciousness knows no bounds or point.³7
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©December 2023.
By such silent power the moon invisibly renders
Posed in its mansion in the sky it surrenders
In the hours of silent light upon the coal dark night
Invisibly shifting ocean tides to soft foamy white
Posed in its mansion in the sky it surrenders
Its force and terrestrial gravity that takes no slumber
Invisibly shifting ocean tides to soft foamy white
Amending the rhythm of winds on waves motion
Its force and terrestrial gravity takes no slumber
In the hours of silent light upon the coal dark night
Amending rhythms of winds on waves motion
By such silent power the moon invisibly renders
January 29, 2021
Proud Pantoum Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
They came last night
Sashayed and tromped through
A dreamy, semi-wakefulness
Snapshots of vague faces
Riffling pages of pageantry
Shuffling through suffering.
I failed to recognize many
Longed to linger with others
Applauded successes
Cheered failures resiliency
Reached to touch, to caress
The sinewy shadows of sorrow.
Awed by the strength and tenacity
Of life’s forever fortunes
As they danced across its ballroom floor
Huddled in its corners
Laughed at its ever-changing punchline.
A soft tear reminding me
That I had somehow been there
Shared a cosmic connection
With a distant,
Yet eternal
Moment.
For hands that do dishes can feel as soft as your face with lime green hairy lipped squid
Surely if you set fire to the bush
you would have 2 cooked birds then
A stitch in time saves what
and why would we need nine of them
if at first you don't succee
Too many broths spoiled by cooks
Now for whom the bell tolls
i am partial to that
that macabre
toe tugging
tale of Victorian dead
announcing i am well
An apple a day keeps the doctor away
but a shotgun makes it permanent
When a tree falls in the forest
one more closer to no trees
if heaven has a edge
does it also have dimension
every cloud has a visible ice crystal lining
In an emerald woods- May has sprung,
and trees have put on their green gowns,
oh, such delight to hear birds young.
In an emerald woods- May has sprung,
sweet, silky moss garland is hung;
and upon soft grass my soul drowns.
In an emerald woods- May has sprung,
and trees have put on their green gowns.
_____________________________
May 03, 2019
Poetry/Triolet/Emerald Woods
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1141-567-03
All Rights Reserved, 2019, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Celebrate May With A Triolet
sponsor, Andrea Dietrich, Judged 05/2019
Second Place
Submitted to the Standard contest, Triolet, old/new
sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 08/24/2022
I was born before language could hold me—
before syllables stitched identity into skin,
before sound became a cage disguised as recognition.
You see, names are borders.
Invisible fences hammered into the soul,
claiming ownership over something
that was never meant to be owned.
They said,
“This is who you are.”
Handed me a label like a leash—
soft at first,
until I felt the pull.
Call me by the way I grand rise
after being erased.
I am the question that refuses
to collapse into an answer.
I am every version of myself
that existed for a moment
and then dissolved without apology.
I am the fire that learned
how to look like a flame—
just to survive long enough
to burn again.
I am the child who spoke in galaxies,
before grammar taught my mouth
to shrink the universe into sentences.
I am something
you feel
when everything false
falls away.
Because I am not something
you can summon.
but because I am too full
to be poured into something so small.
Hearing your voice floating in the stillness of the night
Dreaming of sunsets over mountains rolling in the sky
Starring out at oceans with waves pounding gently on the shore
Carrying the sand form my coastline to yours
It's a gentle-touching feeling seeing your footprints in the sand
Picking up the pieces and the grains that fell from my hand
I see you in the morning light, gilded by the sun rising in the east
Reaching out for the soft and loving kindness of your kiss
Singing in the morning the words you left stained on my lips
Dancing too the music of a melody that flowed from you hips
Swelling with the memory of my hands moving gently on your breasts
Holding to the feeling when I held you pressed closely to my chest