Long Spenserian Poems
Long Spenserian Poems. Below are the most popular long Spenserian by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spenserian poems by poem length and keyword.
In measuring the Doppler shift of stars,
the universe we see seems to expand,
beginning a grand thought that is not ours:
God and the Big Bang do go hand in hand.
Created, the release of His remand,
the science having declared His demise,
heavens now collapse to a grain of sand,
and infinite, its mass, we are apprised;
earth coalesced in time under His watchful eyes.
----------
This is a Spenserian Stanza, 10a:10b:10a:10b:10b:10c:10b:10c:12c
Resurgence for the idea of a creator/designer within elements of the scientific community began with observations that pointed to a beginning for the universe...
The fair was filled with pies of every sort,
And Simon longed to taste a single slice.
Approaching the pie baker with a snort,
And begged for food without proper price.
The baker sneered, "Your coin must first suffice,
Before you bite this golden, flaky crust."
But Simon smiled and gave some odd advice:
"True wealth is found in starlight, not in dust!"
The crowded marketplace began to trust
The penniless philosopher’s strange scheme.
They threw away their wallets in disgust,
To chase after a wild, pastry baked dream.
Thus Simon ate for free while others prayed,
By selling nonsense, all his debts were paid.
You're startin to feel lonely, the guilt is settin in, it's changing,
you're only so strong as you portray, and now it's fading-
into a red bubbling mess, boiling, rearranging
into something new, indestructible and its paying-
for the consequences, this guilt has no sympathy for dating-
whether it's hells best friend, and heaven's clever liar
it's all about the thoughts, the ones that take the time creating-
a poisonous kiss, Snow White's apple, her curious desire-
so sudden yet expected, this obvious satire-
of a mess, a disaster, it's not only killing a fair maiden
but all of the minds involved in this strange iced fire-
one that's about to be put out, and the red apple can trade in-
for the lingering premonition, you've been regretting
cause nothing can be far worse than simply neglecting.
How deftly my camera seduces this chance
If circumstance allotted, or thus, I knew somehow
Could earn the winsome smile, or to steal his favored glance
To apprehend and keep the promised vow
Captivate his warrant, or a furrow of his brow
So safely captured within the frame
If once, I knew, he'd look my way just now,
And fondly gaze at me , with eyes the camera claims
~
A cloud appears, the shutter snaps
And though his smile was long
A raindrop falls, the thunder claps…
Too soon the moment gone,
The rain pours down, he runs for cover
My fleeting chance is over
Inspired by Dr. Ram's contest
Spenserian Sonnet
To kiss moist lips and taste their sweet desire
Then see the need, that want, through lust filled eyes
How quickly sparks ignite a night on fire
Flame so intense, it burns out at sunrise
The morning after comes with a disguise
Complete with attitude of "just be nice"
You flash a smile and paint him with white lies
One night of self indulgence has a price
How much will it cost you to roll the dice
What is the worth of one's own dignity
Or serve that dignity with bitter spice
And call the dish "unwanted pregnancy"
Be careful when you chance a little kiss
Most times blind Cupid shoots, his arrows miss
by Daniel Turner
Spenserian sonnet
ABAB BCBC CDCD EE
Obsession
(Spenserian Sonnet)
You came with songs of love’s gifts to bestow
Bewitching me with soothing siren song
As whispering winds over ripe corn blow,
Charming me with songs you have sung so long.
In your love’s rhythm it seemed I belong,
As Aphrodite’s messenger you came,
Calling with the euphony of your song,
Swift I came when I heard you call my name.
Obsessed by your symphonies I became,
On shifting breeze, too readily deceived,
On your enticing words I made my claim
Binding me by the threads of love you weave.
Leaving me with unfulfilled passion’s pangs,
Misled by obsession for songs you sang.
Barry Stebbings
01/19/2020
The old, relaxed; we pour ourselves a glass.
There is no need to stretch or change our way.
We know the flavors here; the only task:
ensuring it is just like yesterday.
Like sediment, this attitude does weigh;
we lie immobile, deign to be disturbed,
exchange bouquet for residual gray,
our appetite for joy, completely curbed,
our thoughts reserved to naught but that which is deserved.
Thus, when it comes along, we’re unprepared;
our skins are too inflexible to grow.
The thought of making room just leaves us scared,
so we eschew the new for what we know.
That which does not comport, we must forego,
and in this way, we struggle to survive;
our aging, brittle walls, like Jericho,
must be torn down to breathe, to come alive,
for we were meant to stretch, that we might truly thrive.
A leopard cannot shed its spots alone;
a dried out husk cannot make itself new.
The old man must be utter overthrown
before with new wine he can be imbued.
The old skin, by a Word, banished from view,
no longer to restrict and much annoy;
a transformation occurs through and through:
the old man dead, a child of God, a boy
who bubbles forth in endless, effervescent joy.
----------
Musings on Matthew 9:17
These are Spenserian Stanzas, 10A:10B:10A:10B:10B:10C:10B:10C:12C
Out hunting in the woods, late in the fall
I came upon a wild persimmon tree
Strewn all around were reddish-yellow balls
A treasure it had dropped, now mine for free
With empty game bag down upon one knee
Inspecting them to make sure they were ripe
I picked them up and squeezed them carefully
Then on my sleeve, I'd give a gentle swipe
And if there's juice enough to leave a stripe
Then in the bag, how mom would be surprised
At least when I got home there'd be no gripe
Because no squirrels met with their demise
Persimmons make the sweetest of preserves
Especially the ones my mama serves
July 14 2017
Spenserian Sonnet
ABAB BCBC CDCD EE
squirrels- 2 syllables
Upon the windswept hills where lupines grow,
Their purple banners flutter in the sun,
Soft petals whisper secrets none may know,
Of ancient tales; battles lost and won.
The morning dew upon their stems begun
To glisten as diamonds newly cast,
While shadows play—a dance that will not last—
And time’s relentless tide must surely run.
Beneath their shade, the earth is cool and deep,
Where roots entwine the memories of spring—
A silent promise nature means to keep—
Of hope returned on gentle, gilded wing.
So, let the lupine bloom where hearts reside;
With strength and grace; violet hues abide.
Inside an inkwell, lives a fairy tale
A classic, filled with love and misery
Where," Once upon a time" has long set sail
And "happy ever after's" yet to be
It's plot, a knight, once schooled in chivalry
His quest for love, the dragons he has slain
From Crusades 'round the world to frippery
The jousts with Father Time who drew disdain
Yet deep inside is where brave knight remains
A lifetime of adventures, good and bad
The love he searches for, still unobtained
Still finding peace, his "grail" this Gallahad
Perhaps, I'll buy a quill one of these days
Release Sir Knight and legends of his ways
by Daniel Turner
Spenserian sonnet abab bcbc cdcd ee