Long South wind Poems
Long South wind Poems. Below are the most popular long South wind by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long South wind poems by poem length and keyword.
A long, long time ago (it seemed anyway) Rose
and her cat Twinkle Toes were dreaming
it was a wonderful fairy tale dream of a lovely house.
The house was painted a lovely shade of sky blue;
(inside too) and rested on top of a high cliff
and a huge flower garden grew
and a fairy twinkling girl lived there too.
Rose and Twinkle Toes played all day long running
and jumping with the fairy
until it seemed to Rose that they
had been in this dream
for a very very long time,
although a diet of jelly beans was delightful
and they loved the little fairy
Rose and Twinkle Toes really did long for home
and sleeping in their little attic room
under a pink blanket till morning
(Oh Twinkle Toes I miss home ! Don't you?)
But here in dreamland
every day is beautiful and sunny
with never a cloud ever so
Rose decided to go on a journey (to find home)
and with Twinkle Toes following they left
the pretty house on the cliff and the
garden and fairy far behind.
They met many strange and odd creatures
that said hello
and the scenery was amazing yet
there is no place like home (as Dorothy would say).
Then a south wind sent them in a twirl.
It blew away the blue house the garden
(and maybe the fairy) Rose and Twinkle Toes,
were tumbling books and pages of books flew by
and Rose held Twinkle Toes to her heart.
Then, Rose found herself in her attic room
and Twinkle Toes was sleeping on the bed
Rose whispered . . .
Twinkle be careful what you dream!
__________________________
February 11, 2017
Crazy wind whispers
Into the ears of ‘champa’
A light scented Indian flower
Trees are full of them now
Your love in each and every bough
The breeze is cool
Because it is spring
Because it is south wind
Because everywhere is hue
Because it is warm with you
Blue hills and green plains
My room at sixes and sevens
Red bellied wood peckers drumming
Rhythm in feet nimble
Your twinkling eyes with dimple
Our roads are tremendously red
Ashok Palash and Gulmohar
They call it flame-of-the-forest
Love in red supreme
With you in extravagant dream
Books in eloquently colorful blurb
Beauty steps in every curve
Invitation in every nerve
The spring below and spring above
Your healing love
Goes away alas the days
Of dance in soul in warm sun rays
Goes away your ocean gaze
Life in a twilight haze
Your beautiful craze
Ah if I could have turned the clock
Holding your hand in a Gulmohar walk
Only our hands and feet would talk
Around the clock arm in arm
In your beauty and charm
Alas that is not to be a thing
Our time is as short as the spring
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
March 18, 2016
Butea Monosperma or Palash is a species of Butea native to tropical and sub-tropical parts of India and Asia.
Saraca asoca ( the ashoka tree, literally ‘sorrowless’), belongs to the Caesalpinioideae subfamily of legume family, of Indian sub continent.
Gulmohar or Delonix Regia, grown in many tropical parts of the world, called FLAMBOYANT in English, is a striking sight for its vivid red/vermilion/orange/yellow flowers and bright green foliage...Wikipedia
The tormenting time came in my life with the future at stake,
when writhing in the crushing clutch of smothered suffering,
my burdened heart broke and bled in the inflicted pining ache,
I didn’t find the soothing arms of hope stretched to me to cling.
My boat wrecked on the high sea in the tempest of agony,
I tried to swim to the calm shelter of the shore receding.
Someone from within prompted me optimistic I should be,
palliative hope reminded me every cloud has a silver lining.
When the sunny day ended and the dismal night fell fast,
I didn’t forget the sun must sink to rise in splendor again
to inspire the Phoenix in me to ascend from distress dust,
so, I waited for the divine dawn’s touch to assuage my pain.
I felt the gentle south wind waft silver-lined clouds in mind,
after storm the rainbow lured me through its archway to fly,
I found with its melting hues the tapestry of ecstasy defined,
to scale new height of bliss I tried as my wings could soar in sky.
The butterfly flew out of my aching heart on the latticed wing,
flittered through the rippling air on the bright trail of sunray
to the garden of roses blooming hope with the sparkle of spring,
under the new silken sky emerging from the gloom of misty grey.
_______________
February 9, 2023
Contest : Proverbial
Sponsored by : Margarita Lillico
Down the gradient of meandering verdant valley
Draining down the dregs of the fading dusk
Beyond the threshold of the wild woods thick
My white stallion gallops in the emerald prairie.
Gossamer gloss sparkles on the supple skin
Wisps of silky cloud swirl on the satin mane
Tossing on swinging waves of the south wind
The equine beauty canters out of my heart.
Bent blades of jade grass sway in sinuous ruffle
In sync with the rhythm of the bolting ivory grace
The tilted hooves hover in the transfixed air
Panorama of motion captured in sublime silence.
Soaked in twilight glow we cross the last pasture
Floating on cascading spectrum of the setting sun
Beyond the glowing horizon of grandeur I see
The portal of heaven opens for my horse and me.
March 30, 2020
Contest : Completely Your Choice (42) Any Form Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
I woke up this morning in the silence of my mind and looked outside
Not a sign of life was moving, and the city has lost its pride
I looked up at the skies above me searching for an answer, but the clouds keep rolling by and everyone was bidding the earth goodbye. A long road formed into the cloud and human forms was moving around, I kept looking at the shapes from the ground, but I could not see the face just the body of the human race.
I pinch my hand to see if I was still alive but something more powerful than me was giving me life the people have evacuated from the town
But I was still hanging around because destiny had me bound and courage kept spinning me around.
Thousands of cars lining the streets, trucks van and buses on one side and the smaller vehicles on the other side everyone was moving in order and bush doctors and the sorceress had to move and their portions and jinks fell into the sea and the troubled young man was finally set free.
Tons and tons of garbage line up by the wayside with everything that the occupants had inside, the rich and the poor have suffered the same fate
They all had garbage lining up at their gates leaving empty house behind a memory that cannot be replaced in a brand-new place.
The federal workers are working against time to clear the garbage before the cloud breaks, bulldozers, trucks and crane busy up and down the street creating a new landfill with all the remains from top of the hill.
And as they wait patience start to move slowly out of the gate and the town that once stood proud was reeling from loneliness. No one can go back there; there is a story for everyone to share so listen carefully. When the north wind combined with the south wind and the wicked wind of the east combined with the ferocious wind of the west nothing will be left; this town is inhabitable.
Faridah a name that blings I goose bumps
The fairest of them all my constant love
Free in spirit and soul she beloved of soul
My soul in her presence ignites in ecstasy
She is tall dark and lovely with a sweet charm
Her voice leaves my innards desiring for more
More of her lithe and athletic pretty ones body
Her abode a place of beauty where damsels visit
She makes them look pretty she's a beautifier
When I mention the fires she ignites in me
I cant but help promise her a coastal holiday
In a resort where we will sample margaritas
As sweet refreshing red wine is served unto us
...Rimi I cant fathom a life without my promised one
Faridah my sweet and lovely essence of an angel..
Her name I whisper liltingly lest fate hears of my love
And full of jealousy drives her from mine safe hand
Beloved is blessed with swit lips that taste of honey
Her perfume reminds me of pomegranates essence
They come from all over the ridges trying to woo her
But my beloved listens not to their wanton placation's
In my hands she knows she is safe and contented
With Abu I sent gift to Maaha our courtship taking root
Given the green light go ahead she is now my fiancee
..My Krall being full of goats I intend to fully pledge
Myself to her.. My Faridah making her fully Mine..
I intend to make her my sweet princess my only one
The one Queen who will rule the seven parallel realms
At my side.. as I mirror manage.. I muse in swift dream
..Oooh my beloved of Rimi Open the doors of Bashan
You're prince rides in seeking you're sweet presence
Do haste lest he leaves and is waylaid..
By them that guard..The cities fortification..
If you hear the voice of my whisper
...Open the door for me to gain calm entry..
..Am reminded of Rams of Bashan when they danced
With pleasure beloved of Solo..
...I send the south wind..And North wind
With them gland tidings of mine proposal..
Open the door for me My sweet lover do not hesitate
In you're hands I melt and merge into yo sweet entity
You're moans and mine groans fill our inner sanctum
As a game of time replays in all earnest..
You're One RIMI..
Code 254.. Acode Stronghold 013..
North wind has gone back to polar abode
Chilled clouds have flown out on wings of winter
Made way for sunny south wind to enter
Write on rippling breeze for the spring an ode
The humming birds sing when dawn would explode
Swarming butterflies would shed sky’s color
On dew drenched meadow sparkling in splendor
Spring in air designs motifs in a code.
Lining the lone garden path flowers sway
Through star dust we walk the night together
Our dreams would talk, we have no word to say
Scent of scenic spring is on us to stay
In summer love soaked flowers won’t wither
Because nothing can take our smile away.
Written : March, 14, 2018
May 16, 2020
Contest : Brian's Choice F, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Zephyrus, the god of the wind from the west
Gently blows where the lily grows
He is springtime's welcome guest
In early summer he whispers to the rose
As she sways in his warm caress
He gently blows where the lily grows
The winds of *Notus may give her stress
For he brings the summer storms
But she'll sway in Zephyrus's warm caress
The winds of *Boreas are never warm
He brings the cold winds of winter
While Notus brings the summer storms
Icicles on window sills begin to splinter
As the winds of Boreas make us shiver
He brings the cold winds of winter
His icy breath is upon the river
With gusts that never seem to rest
The winds of Boreas make us shiver
But Zephyrus is springtime's welcome guest
----
12/11/2014
''Z'' Contest, New Or Old - Poetry Contest
Constance La France
*Notus - The Greek god of the south wind
*Boreas - The Greek god of the North wind and the bringer of winter
----
I'll hear the birds crying as Auster weeps
And see dead leaves bend, while carried about
Dove's wings flutter, as the Autumn sleeps
and skies turn grey when Boreas comes out
He touches all when he finally shows
To bring the coldness the sun never owns
And shows no mercy as his power grows
Covering landscapes that crackles and moans
To be caught by Boreas chilly veil
and face its shear strength so frightful and cold
To watch the sun move with its Winter sail
and seek Auster's breath as seasons unfold
I'll feel the time pass until Auster comes
And count the days till' Boreas succumbs
Boreas...North Wind
Auster....South Wind
contest Gods of Winds
12/18/14
A Sequel
To
The Weathered Old Barn
By: Tom Wright
11-3-04
A stranger came by just the other day,
with an offer that set me to thinking.
He had seen my old barn from the state highway,
and up my driveway he sped just cranking.
He was typical city, I could tell by his clothes,
from his hands, his car, and his talk.
The old barn leaned as the south wind blows,
and its distance not too great to walk.
It was a handsome barn back in its day,
before years of snow, and howling winds.
Its paint now gone and wood is silvery gray,
Its tired old tin top flaps, sways, and bends.
It set me to thinking as eyes surveyed the field,
and I asked, ”for this barn why such a yen?”
He replied this old barn would have ample yield,
to line the walls of our new home’s den.
He said, ”try buying paint that looks like this,
weathered from storms and summer’s scorch.
In our new home it would bring pure bliss,
with planking left for planters on the porch.”
We’re much the same, you and I, you know,
but it’s the inside in us where beauty grows.
Our hair turns silver gray and our steps slow,
and why we’re left, rest assured, God knows.
As our years pass, he uses our hard wealth,
laboring at beautifying our spotted souls.
We should thank him daily for good health,
as we endeavor to play life’s given roles.
But some day soon the time will come,
when our tabernacle too, will be hauled away.
So forsake him not, as is the manner of some,
but faithfully serve him until that day.
Then we may add beauty to our father’s realm,
because of past seasons that have gone by.
Friends, are quiet angels, keeping us at the helm,
when our wings have forgotten how to fly.