Long Star shaped Poems
Long Star shaped Poems. Below are the most popular long Star shaped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Star shaped poems by poem length and keyword.
I stroll through the garden of delight,
Where fragrant flowers scent the air.
Each one a different hue and sight,
Each one a gift of nature's care.
I breathe in the sweet scent of gardenia,
A melody of citrus-floral blend.
It soothes my soul like a symphonia,
A white blossom, a harmonious friend.
I marvel at the lily of the valley,
A bell-shaped beauty, a graceful sight.
It fills my heart with joy and glee,
A fresh embrace, pure and light.
I inhale the rich scent of jasmine,
An exotic spice, sensual and bold.
It stirs my senses with passion,
A star-shaped flower, a story untold.
I unwind with the soothing scent of lavender,
A herbal balm, calming and mild.
It eases my mind with wonder,
A purple charm, nature's child.
I smile at the romantic scent of rose,
A classic love, floral and bright.
It warms my spirit with its pose,
A red symbol of the dove's flight.
I stroll through the garden of delight,
Where fragrant flowers scent the air.
Each one a different hue and sight,
Each one a gift of nature's care.
Soft swirling snow is dancing down,
The earth wears a white lacy gown,
Carols spread cheer in our hometown,
In magic melodies we drown,
Trinkets and baubles decorate
Christmas trees extremely ornate,
A white star shines as I narrate
the story of Christ's birth and fate,
Children listen all enraptured,
Loving memories encaptured,
Around the fireplace, we're pictured,
Making gingerbread house structured,
Next comes stringing bright Christmas lights,
Red and green, they twinkle at nights,
All streets are lit, my heart delights;
We share tree-star-shaped cookie bites,
Then we get together to bake,
What fun we have! What joy to make
a rich and lovely Christmas cake!
Wrapping presents, we stay awake,
Worn out, we all then go to sleep,
Drifting off to dreamy land deep;
When morning sun slowly does creep,
To celebrate Christmas, we leap.
30th November 2022
For Constance La France's "Writing Challenge - Write a Christmas poem" contest
after the rain, wildflowers bend like
wilted men wrapped in age and bliss
fragments of longing and belonging
in wet that sustains a warming world
to bring elation with green fields
in a mission of beauty
daisies poke through tall grasses
picketing the field with star shaped heads
and yellow centre discs
that make the world manageable to hold
gadflies of growth
with white petals plucked by
wooing hands to know
the alignment of love
greenery with life within
overstuffed
drenched hazy
a tangle of vegetation
all of it deflecting woe like voices in a chorus
finding one's self in the mix
June 2023
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The oven hums,
a steady hymn.
Like December's first snow,
flour drifts across the countertop.
Her hands~
kneading, rolling, pressing~
leave maps in the dough.
I trace them with a cookie cutter,
star-shaped, blunt at the edges.
Powdered sugar hangs in the air,
a sweet ghost.
We laugh,
and it sticks to our cheeks,
to the aprons she sewed from fabric scraps,
to the memories we don’t yet know
we’re making.
The timer rings.
The cookies glow.
And for a moment,
the whole world is warm.
The rugged bark of an old tree
with imperfection due to its cracks
is a wondrous thing of beauty
and it's the imperfection that attracts
We know that a star-shaped flower
does not make a perfect star
Yet it has a certain loveliness
that induces a sense of wonder
A hand-crafted ceramic bowl
because of its asymmetry
is a wonderful artefact
that is valued very highly
An old-time cobblestone street
has a unique charm and quaintness
due to its imprecise pattern
that gives it its loveliness
Perfection is not easy to attain
and even more difficult to sustain
Beauty lies in Imperfection
and they are a natural combination
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Midwinter’s blush—not born of frost,
but coaxed from shadows when days shrink
to slivers. A star-shaped constellation
pressed between panes, each scarlet leaf
a silent flare against winter’s gray.
Some call it flor de Nochebuena,
flower of the Holy Night~
as if crimson could hold reverence,
as if a plant remembers angels
or the weight of a child’s breath.
Yet here it stands: unbothered by theology,
a bold geometry of joy.
Watch how its gold-tipped stamens
ignite like votives~
not praying, simply being light.
I stand at the edge of stillness,
a turquoise lake so calm it seems carved
from the breath between my thoughts.
the hills gather close, gentle silhouettes
holding the world in a loose embrace,
and the trees shimmer with
star-shaped leaves
that seem otherworldly
ahead, the moon lifts itself
like a golden clock face,
Roman numerals glowing faintly
as if time has chosen
to reveal its secret architecture.
its reflection drifts across the water,
a glowing ribbon of light
that stretches toward me~
not as a path,
but as a question
my heart already knows
but cannot answer.
in this place,
the hills, the star-leafed trees,
the turquoise stillness,
and the clock-moon
all seem to agree
that time is gentler
than we remember~
a soft turning,
a luminous pause
held in the hands of water.
You’re a Flower in My Garden 3-5-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daphne
Your winter child, with beguiling scent perfumes snow and rain,
I smile in January’s barrenness to herald crocus, wrens and snowdrops.
Sometimes a temperamental garden tot, don’t like wet feet,
Evergreen harbinger of bees and ladybugs and butterflies
Whispering of vernal winds in their hibernating renewal.
I watch the furry maniacs retrieve a cache of summer pine nuts
From beneath the cloak of my protection –
Spear leaves edged in yellow like wispy winter sunshine -–
Giving back a fountain of fragrance splashing from star shaped blooms.
Robed in purple royalty, decorating winter’s threadbare garden gown,
My blossoms glow through your garden’s gloom,
A jubilee of sweet incense, heaven’s winter grace, lovingly shared.
Deep breathing walkers
stretch across the blue grass of early day.
The park is a Florida basin under river roots.
A native cracker jammed down in a no-name Ford
listens to a country station that’s mega-nasal,
tin-star shaped and boozy.
Alligators break the dark circular water,
try again to feed on egrets,
as usual the birds are too strong to be plucked.
Later on, a guy with a big belly and low belt
will grandstand for the daily on-lookers
while throwing chickens at them.
This early I am just down in the mouth,
still surfacing.
Restless night and my legs got jailed
by lidless dreams. Now the back of my neck
tingles as old sweat refries itself.
I’m here taking the soft wet breeze
making out with a cold one inside a soda bottle
waiting for the man
who will show-up like a pond swimmer,
weed clinging to his billowing tactical shorts.
Only I and Frick and Frack over there
supposedly walking and talking
see that the park is all too clear-cut
and faking it.
When the ankle-deep mist rises,
it will be certain that we are waiting for some,
and another much cooler tomorrow.
Written 5th Aug 2026 for weekly poetry competition. August 3rd 2026 to August 9th 2026
I am a tall American Sweetgum Tree
Star- shaped leaves colours of purple yellow and red
Graceful ~ loved by all
Robins land on my branches
Sweetly serenade me
Songs of joy sharing nature’s love
Children skip round me giggling
I am head tree guarding the Magical Forest
Unicorns, fairy’s ~ even goblins love me
People come hug me and tell me they love me
Majestic mountains bow to me
Magical kingdom is place to be
Castle glistens in the sunshine
At night owls hoot to me
Lights surround me showing my beauty
I love all seasons especially winter
Snow dazzles and sparkles on me
People from all over world photograph me