Long Splendours Poems
Long Splendours Poems. Below are the most popular long Splendours by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Splendours poems by poem length and keyword.
From the sacred centre of learning streams forth an irrepressible desire to overcome the ignorance between people. Education speaks to us through knowledge, a testament to human potential unleashed.
The classroom communes through books, discussions, and discovery. Teaching, the ever-flowing fountain, reveals the secret of growth through question and answer, theory and practice. All learners long for understanding, and minds give voice to ideas and innovation.
Deep potential wishes to surface, find words and numbers, concepts and skills, and always evolving forms of comprehension. The child wants to be known to the world and find expression for timeless curiosity.
When teacher and pupil connect, insights bloom and wisdom unfolds all minds are brimmed again with wonder—the equations of mathematics and the essays of the student point to the inner workings of intellect.
Schools and universities invite you to understand the splendours of human thought. A look into a classroom will confirm it: What confuses us often as complex becomes clear and simple through learning.
And every lesson and textbook and every experiment is a revelation, another fresh attempt to unfold the harmony of knowledge. Minds start flourishing, and the future brightens.
Education transforms the silent into the eloquent, the unsure into the confident, and the novice into the expert. In every child, a world of possibility; in every lesson, a step towards enlightenment.
The living lesson breathes through generations, forever changing, forever growing, always pregnant with beginning and never-ending. In this eternal dance of learning and growth, we find the true essence of human evolution.
The rolling farmlands
That feeds our tribal children alike
And fertile vineyards abound
A tawny of sapphire seas
A prodigious floral kingdom
Amber coloured rivers
That plunge into an ocean
Of mercurial moods
Roaring with stealth silence
Tranquil beaches and lagoons
Rocky shores and enchanting seasides
The imposing cliffs and highlands
Flanked by towering mountains
Highvelds dry as sand
Rough as a rasp
Around the vast arena of the bushveld
Lies a stealthy leopard
A slouching serpent through the tawny grasses
An impala lolling in a shade
The pungent breeze of a dangling buck in a lion's mouth
The swiftness fling of a cheetah's wrath
My humble abode
My South Africa
Land of scenic splendours....
Not in the sanguine ordinance of the heart, nor in the fugitive embassy of breath, but in that inviolate interval where succession relinquishes its crown, Love keeps its unspoken dominion.
Who schooled the blood in scarlet mysteries,
Or taught the clay such inward majesty?
Not flesh, whose borrowed splendours fade like seas
When Time withdraws its ancient sovereignty;
But that concealed and antecedent fire
Whose silence outlives every mortal choir.
I passed beyond the ivory walls of bone,
Where marrow held a vigil without name;
Where things forgotten before they were known
Lay folded in an immemorial flame;
And there the dark, unburdened of disguise,
Looked through my soul with uncreated eyes.
The heart, that bronze confessor of the dust,
Raised its twin thunder toward the vault of years;
One stroke proclaimed the visible world to trust,
The next dissolved beyond the reach of spheres;
And in that breathless cleft between the two,
Eternity remembered what we knew.
There Chronos laid his sceptre in the sand,
And Number lost the kingdom it had won;
The stars grew still beneath an older hand,
As night confessed the labour of the sun;
For Being, stripped of all its borrowed art,
Returned to the silence beneath the heart.
Then came the vision reason could not bind:
A shadowless bird passed through a mountain’s core;
No wound remained upon the adamant mind
Of stone that had endured the world before;
Yet from its depths there trembled into air
A song that no created throat could bear.
Then I beheld what no decree could prove:
Love was not flame, nor breath, nor mortal claim;
It was the interval where all things move
Before they enter form and take a name;
The hidden mercy no beginning owns,
The pulse between the marrow and the stones.
Gone are the splendours of simplicity
when youth and innocence did life portend;
now my days are filled by complexity
and sweet utopian dreaming at an end.
Thus I am not a man unversed in sin
nor a beguiled fool to splendorous love -
truly within I feel unforgiven
and each sober thought this reminds me of.
Soul-destroying are the long stolen years -
its conscious slow death, its visceral grief
that cheats me of all my passions and cares
and robs my identity like a thief.
I am alive and broke no hallowed vow
but cold the kiss of fate upon my brow.
Written: October 1991
Every poem penned may not get writ well,
Some bloom, some wilt, some see not much of light,
A full moon wanting to cast silver spell,
Dawn dawning, submits to her splendours bright.
Not all pens get to reach the depth of heart,
Nor all of life may from a dream dreamt stem,
Some get withered by old nightmares apart,
And fail to imprint their lasting emblem.
Man toils still all the same, hindrance nor let,
Tries spreading dream blossoms on a tall bough,
And yet, few what they greed may ever get,
Alas, soil seeds or not, one ought to plough.
Man ought to sow seeds— wild rather than not,
And never once keep parched his karmic pot.
_______________________________________
Sonnet |02.12.2020|
Topic: life, death, poetry (of life), work/karma
Handpicked, like coffee seeds or strawberries, ten eggs I kept
Like a tensed insomniac, for a long time I'd not slept
I found a change in the bloom of the dermis as days passed
There came out surprise-filled tint tots, elegance unsurpassed.
Red, green, blue, purple, and yellow, like a compressed rainbow
With perfectly blown balloons, as children merrily glow.
As seedlings spring up at night and glisten in the morning,
These soft talc and cloud agate gems appear without warning.
Standing erect and straight with sun-moon-stars-tinged, blazing eyes;
Robotic reflexes; peep, peep, peep, filling up the skies
Judgement quality of quantity like the honeybees
Psychic contagion is in them, like treasures in deep seas.
Symbols of resurrection, springtime splendours, and new life
A masterpiece of nature's craftsmanship after a strife
Scenes of Elysium, Coleus, and Jannah revealed
The mysteries of chicks, like the Milky Way, are concealed.
My World
My world I think is really quite small
But then on reflection, not small at all
It consists of a four bedroomed home
A large garden and plenty of room to roam
My children were born in this home of ours
My husband and I built over many, many, hours
My world is encompassed all around
This home we built with love to surround
My world expands with travel now and then
But it never seems the same without them
One of my birds has now flown the nest
He still knows where home is when he needs to rest
The bonds of love stretch very far
It doesn’t matter wherever they are
My family know where my world is
It’s were they are, not who they are with
My world is really the whole world over
My family don’t need any lucky clover
Love is everywhere spilling out for them
No matter why or where or when
So my world is expanding ever more
My world is this planet with an open door
The splendours of this planet for all to see
For each and all of my loving family.
©~GG~ 2011
……Musing in Moonlight……
Nay, of holiday splendours, do not sing.
Speak ye of integrity, winsome, bright, true
Words resplendent, as in days of my youth
Verses, meaningful, and thus, nourishing!
Ban words,banal-only words for a Queen!
Avoid the enslavement to daily post.
Years passby~best, enjoy a sunny coast,
With family, not these internet ghosts!
Life, with its glories, passes way to soon.
Lovers, children, dogs ,cats do need our time.
Whilst we avoid them, our fruit on the vine?
Candles, bright~musing in dreamy moonlight!
10/27/2022
QUATRAIN ABBA each Line 10 words
I forgot who I was, almost lost myself
in a mirage of diffidence,
for a lingering stretch of time!
From the emotional age of twenty-one....
I switched to one role from another -
diverse roles, divergent responsibilities,
But where did the real me disappear?
Reading was my first enchanting love,
Creative writing followed soon…
emotional outpouring, passionately expressed
- from letters to pen-friends, to editors of newspapers,
from fantasy to fiction, and informative non-fiction,
but Poetry eluded me!
Many years had passed not knowing
who I was, who I dreamed to be!
Then...all of a sudden, as if my life
blossomed into a Tree of Hope, when you joined me
into the pursuit of a lyrical journey!
Aha! like a Spring, a life-giving source of water,
a fountain awakening from a deep slumber,
and throwing away all resistance, all hesitance,
all inhibitions, and embracing finesse and subtlety...
sprightly splashing with power at the coral rocks,
I wrote poems for you!
I am still writing!
Writing unwraps my soul…
But, would you love me,
As much as you do,
If I were not a Poet!
Seasons change…throughout the year…
From vibrant joyful colours of Spring, through deep and warm autumnal splendours of Fall, to white silvery jewelled trees in winter..I keep writing poems! You are always with me…by reading all my poems, you infuse inspiration into my mind, My heart beams and beats softly inhaling the tenderness of your love!
Would you love me…if some day,
I stop writing?! my imagination doesn’t create
the magical lines any more... images are blurred,
creative words abandon me...would you?
There is no doubt in my mind …you will.
Poetry will remain in both our hearts,
as our own-orchestrated, unfettered song…
like a transcendent melody spreading the
fragrance of an amazing life savoured together!
If you squeeze the trigger something more than what happens will happen!
If you decide that's what you've got to do?
It's not just a body you kill
It's a life with memories and people
It's people you don't know whose hearts you break
It's pictures on the wall of smiling faces
A voice so warm to someone, somewhere you take - to deafen them with lonely silence forever
Someone's memory of an helpless baby face - you rape these precious splendours.
If you squeeze the trigger your life will never be the same
The sun will dull even on days when it's shining
The stars won't glisten anymore for you
You'll forever hear the sound of demons calling.