Long Strew Poems
Long Strew Poems. Below are the most popular long Strew by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Strew poems by poem length and keyword.
Falling Autumn leaves brashly wave goodbye to Summer
And strew the pathways with emeralds, rubies, and gold.
Radiant beauty engages the land in mummer
Encouraging Summer to relent and let loose its hold.
Watching with glum expression and immodest dress,
Eventually losing the tug-of-war with the chill cold.
Life and death become the drum to which She will bend
Leaving the breathless Wind time to nimbly mend.
Tomorrow She moves forward
Onward from time borrowed.
Sulking away with dried diamonds
Until Autumn’s auric sky explodes
Mindfully exposing Her horizons.
Memory of Summer implodes.
Efficacious efforts of Her victory,
Reign of Autumn’s golden glory.
In hallowed halls of learning's sacred light,
Where dreams doth take their winged and lofty flight,
There stands a school, a fortress of delight,
Its beauty found in minds, a radiant sight.
No mere abode of bricks and stones, this place,
But where young minds imbibe knowledge's embrace,
A tapestry, each thread a vibrant grace,
In every classroom, wisdom we do chase.
The magic of learning, like a potent brew,
Weaves spells as youthful minds are born anew,
As autumn leaves, in golden splendor, strew,
In books and lessons, truths take shape and hue.
'Tis not in facts and figures, as you know,
But in the journey, how we thrive and grow,
A path to self, a ceaseless ebb and flow,
Where wisdom's seeds in fertile minds we sow.
The laughter, like a stream in ancient halls,
A symphony of voices, as each soul calls,
The school's true beauty, like a star that falls,
In friendships forged, where every heart enthralls.
To thrive, to learn, within this hallowed ground,
A privilege, a quest where truth is found,
With teachers as our guides, our dreams unbound,
We soar through life, where endless beauty's crowned.
Let's treasure this domain where knowledge gleams,
Where wonder and inquiry grace our dreams,
In learning's enchantment, life's vibrant streams,
The school's enduring grace, our spirit beams.
WILL THE WORLD ALLOW
If the world allows me to...
I shall meet no one but you
Gaze around and see yellow prance
Blues there but they'll be gone
That sunrise you have, it blew my mind.
If the world allows me to,
Will you let me wave by wave view?
And voice by voice stars we do strew...
Night and day may play a rocky circus ride
Don't forget, I'm here to catch your slide
If the world allows me to..
Let me share that magic within you
Touching your heart not made of stone
Brave me will pass whatever is in store.
I shall stay with you longer than life
If the world allows me to...
©O. E. Guillermo
11:34 pm, November 02, 2014
(Wimpole Street, in the West End of London,
has been the scene of many interesting events,
from the elopement of Elizabeth Barrett Browning
to The Beatles composing "Help!")
The Long, Unlovely Street
It’s such a straight and long, unlovely street,
not quite the retail zone, not quite the mouth
of Regent’s Park. It plumbs a line north-south,
where Mayfair and more middling London meet.
Come walk with me on Wimpole, feast your eye
on blue ceramic plaques, as thick as leaves
that strew the brooks so loved by Freddie Treves,
where tall town houses shoulder out the sky!
Elopements, easements, songs of yesterday,
bereavements, human elephants and more:
we’ll see enchantment pour from every door,
and find a little help along the way.
Where legal precedent meets Mersey Beat,
come tramp the straight and long, unlovely street.
Sun flow progressed from east to west,
with rays of light, the day is blessed.
Like suns imbue, rays beaming through,
my heart still shines with love for you.
Sun rays presume that flowers bloom,
and fill the air with sweet perfume.
Like flowers hue of red and blue,
my heart still blooms with love for you.
The charmed mystique of forest creek
that trickles down a mountain’s cheek.
Like streamlets spew their water through,
my heart still flows with love for you.
From Moon’s soft glow, the moonbeams flow,
and light the darkness down below.
Like moonbeams strew the silvery hue,
my heart still glows with love for you.
A candle’s light glows in the night
as shadows dance with calm delight.
Like flames that grew with heat on cue,
my heart still burns with love for you.
August 24, 2019
On mountain top high
Where delusions of grandeur fly
Superfluous pen grounded but spry
With ink stenciling the availing sky
Wispy clouds through portals do espy
The regal, azure fountain in scarab's eye
Golden beams vaporous plains do ply
With sultry steam airy canvas does dry
Jet stream's wistful currents solemnly sigh
As lingering, eerie presence of a train passed by
Descending to the valley low
Infused landscape portraits glow
Vicarious pen raised up on the gallows
To stitch tangible but fleeting shadow
Spindled meadows, with amber girth to hallow
Stinging nettles, thistles inlaid soft soles to harrow
Gilded Buttercups frill with radiant, golden bow
Alongside, faded Dandelion wheels dander strew
Beautiful, Monarch, sequin fans heated air bellows
Nearby, Great Black wasp pierces cricket with arrow
Woody corpse; denuded stand emanating a paler hue
Barren limbs no burgeoning life doth construe
Stale, musty scent from it's damp twigs doth issue
Winds whisk through sterile branches sighing a doleful mew
No sheltered perch doth it's pared canopy imbue
No decorative shroud to satiate the gawker's view
A vapid garland with no fruitful fronds to strew
Stilled life whose rings are scrolled with each succeeding, autumn's due
Yet deep within it's fibers resinous juices stew
Spurting forth sticky wads of balsamic glue
Trite lacquer it's brigand hull to seal and preening pests to rue
Hearty saps from tapped bough do still spew
Sweet, syrupy concoction; sugary fondue
~Roses~
(Dove's Cooing)
Red roses
a tribute
to loved ones
roses have
very long
history
legend says
that Eve gave
A kiss to
a white rose
in Garden
of Eden.
Cupid bled
on roses
'cause lost love
instead, then
another says
Cleo strew
room with red
roses to
seduce Mark
Anthony
with perfume
and her woes
The wealthy
Romans lay
on beds of
roses too,
these are a
few of the
legends I
share with you
roses are
beautiful
a nice way
to express
affection
for someone
you care and
love profess
so, give them
roses and
will make them
smile if sad,
roses are
magical
make eyes glow
and hearts glad.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyrigth@2012
October.5.2015
The "Dove's Cooing" is a poetry style created by Patricia Simpson.
Eggs whites strew across the evening sky, anticipating rain
Brown fluff interspersed with white, folding across the horizon
Hints of orange ribbon bleeding through the gaps of blue
Grey smudged along the edges, like a painter's afterthought
Cool breeze caressing my hair like a lover
Finger combing it off my shoulder to expose my neck
Leprechauns leap beneath leaves dancing across my path
Faerie torches speckling darkness like dots before my eyes
I walk in solitude drinking in the smells of autumn
Fall approaches me like a forgotten friend
First hints of raindrops kiss my eyelids
I raise my face gladly welcoming her bequest
Summer is put to bed; contained deep within earth's bosom
Nestled inside the heartbeat of yesterday's blessings
Tomorrow is soon enough to wear my mittens
Today I want to dance freely to the melody of change
Potash and compost, tomatoes and rose,
Back in your greenhouse where everything grows.
The gurgle of water, filling the can,
To water my memories of holding your hand.
Prize-winning carnations, striped candy floss pink,
Clove scented blooms, you give me a wink.
I step into the garden, maybe you’re there.
With a trowel in your hand, on an old garden chair.
Mousseline and Pompom, Juno, Khayyam.
We picked all the petals and turned them to jam.
Sweet tasting strawberries, with roses we strew
Stirring together, a red glistening brew.
The other’s they mourn you over cups of hot tea,
but here in your garden, it’s just you and me.
Time with my grandpa, my happiness flows,
As I think of you growing, a carnation and rose.