Long Strolled Poems
Long Strolled Poems. Below are the most popular long Strolled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Strolled poems by poem length and keyword.
page turning suspense filled the vaulted sepulchral air
ushering the veiled spouse to be
while afar off trumpets did blare
(arranged by the well known matchmaker Harriet Kuritsky)
creating the ambience analogous to a renaissance faire
yet contrasted in that this bachelor and other men related to me
segregated with females and males at a set distance away i.e. not physically
near
dictated by mandates of the Hebrew coda stemming from Moses biological tree
which separate quarters ample enough to spare
until the proper toll of the bell would peal accompanied by yippee!
after Rabbi Boyce officiated for Matthew Scott
and Abby Robin, the crowd exalted with cheers
of L’Chiam with chutzpah oompah’s sizzling and hot.
klezmer musicians played schmaltz
which accompanied the hoopla as couples did waltz.
all the while family, friends and relatives blessed the new groom and bride
although highly orthodox, the men removed respective skullcap
more commonly known as the yarmulke some plain others dyed
women and children broke out in traditional dance and song while other did
clap
exemplifying Yahweh to deliver mazal tov and shalom as spiritual guide
to the pronounced husband and wife who pledged their troth in a snap.
toward conclusion of this typical Jewish wedding, a full goblet of kosher red wine
got tossed in the air
this (in conjunction with crush of the emptied wine glass) communicated a sign
and marshaled the crowd to begin a local Jerusalem exodus symbolic and
clear.
as the newlyweds blissfully and radiantly strolled arm in arm
and exited the Synagogue, the euphoric and excited crowd
tossed handfuls of uncle Ben’s unconverted rice grown from a nearby organic
farm
a chauffeur waited to shuttle them to their honeymoon location
passersby waved and bowed e'en thy first grade school marm!
Line of inquiry:
“feeling not thinking, soul with love linking ~
we attained God consciousness unblinking”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’ve talked to my flowers
I’ve watered, weeded and gathered
roses, lilies, lilacs –
so graceful, yet so real
like summertime, so sincere
petals drenched by morning dew
rising, gentle as the glorious hue
two-toned vision of beautiful and new
fresh cut flowers in gold, red and blue
I’ve chatted with my flowers,
I’ve listened as their tears fell lightly
still as the summer, stirring
feelings like laughter,
I’ve talked to my Father,
as I strolled through His garden
a garden of joy – a garden of glory
His garden holds more hope
more wonder and encouragement,
more light and healing
more grace than opinion
His garden is filled with love
pure adoration, purest form of creation
while the winds whisper through the petals,
collecting songs shaped by the heavens
my heart heals, my love – so real
I’ve talked to my flowers – I’ve talked to my Father
believe me when I say, true love will find a way
His love is the reason I pray, offering up my heart, my praise
Assurance that His love will stay – His love feeds my garden
A garden flooded with peace and grace
A garden created by hope and praise
A garden of joy, a garden of faith – a garden He chose
When He came to show me the meaning of His cross,
A cross that assures me my soul won’t be lost
A cross that reminds me of what love surely cost
A cross that brought me a hope for everlasting –
In His garden, my soul is protected
by the love that comes to life
ending all my strife
stirring my heart to try –
never stop trying – because one day, He’s coming back
on the wings of a love that is forever great
a love that seeks the lost and forgives despite the cost.
Oh, dear Lord… I am still singing Your song
Love is alive and He is my heart’s guide
In His garden, this great love will thrive.
The hurricane has come and gone
And how you fared depended
On where you live or where you were
When Irene’s wrath descended.
If you reside or had been staying
On or near the ocean,
You might have been amazed to see
The sea in roiling motion.
Its crashing waves might possibly
Have damaged your foundation,
Or caused a flood or knocked down trees
Or worse, a combination.
Many people watched in dread,
Preparing by the hour;
But all their caution was in vain
Because they still lost power.
I walked the neighborhood today –
Saw branches strewn around;
And several trees were sliced in half,
Their trunks splayed on the ground.
The promenade was filled with people
Out to check the scene.
It added something spicy
To their usual routine.
With stores and restaurants mostly closed
And nothing status quo,
They strolled along the river’s edge
With no place else to go.
The hurricane is over now,
Its havoc left behind;
And whether we were spared or not,
We have an ax to grind.
It was meant as a lark -
walking with him that day in the park.
He was the boy who used to live next door
back in town revisiting his days of boyhood lore.
Kind of cute he’d been back then in a nerdy way -
that boy with whom as a child I always liked to play.
As we walked, I noticed how tall he’d grown
and his eyes so blue like the sky in which the sun now shone.
We strolled on over to the park’s small pond.
Of feeding ducks both of us always had been fond.
A gentle breeze wafted to us the fragrance of flowers.
We nearly skipped to the garden where we sat for two hours
chatting, laughing, reminiscing about
summer fun when we were young -
when I’d played volleyball far better than he.
But today his arms were brawny.
I bet at any sport he could now beat me.
Sun was surrendering its place in the sky
as we watched families and couples strolling by.
I felt the sparks of something that was kin
to the streaks of orange that heaven was painted in.
As we stood to leave, he boldly took hold of my hand.
We heard in the distance the playing of an oldies band.
As we walked to where old tunes filled the air,
It felt so right, so romantic and so rare.
My heart was throbbing as his fingers twined with mine.
I was feeling things that only the word delicious could define!
In the sky no longer was there a single cloud
as he twirled me in darkening twilight away from the crowd.
I looked up to see the young man gazing at me.
How did I never before this day see
how radiant his smile was.
Twinkling stars appeared. We were lost in a magical pause . . .
Beneath an old willow tree out of anyone’s sight,
our lips came together on that enchanting night.
Our day had begun as a lark in the park.
But what it ended up as was the beginning of so much more
than I had ever known before -
So extraordinarily sweet . . . a kiss in the dark.
Before the whirlwind steam blurred into scoping.
Before scarcely the morning smooth gathering.
We were nervous until trustworthiness was revealed.
Amidst the adjunct's misfortune by blaze wield.
They were heedless to our flaws due to their sway.
As we overruled, inquiries impeded our headway.
I stumble over my own words and test the unattainable.
As poise trills its harsh orchestra, thoughts assemble.
The dissimilar sounds in my mind lead to stridency.
If you reckon you betray a lost soul, ply reason and equity.
As yet, my self-image fails to ensure the ideal outcome.
Stilled flows of awareness hunt for virtue placed some.
We are denied scopes that divulge a sheer rowdiness.
Promptly, when sympathy had yielded to wickedness!
And tastefulness was drawn alike a native tidal lagoon.
Sewn into the night's feeling by the beams of the moon
Since there were no stars, the sun rose at daybreak.
By relaying us, one current view of the world is kept awake.
Concerns aspire to hindrance in my road to harmony.
They fulfill their own drab ease same as a sore sensory.
Propel me down crooked streets to state my center.
I drop affection, and mindfulness covets a novice juggler.
A feeble aerobatic master beneath the kermis hogan.
An inbred urge for free fall spoils our views become on.
Outright deafness and spectacular quietness.
Patently complete, and communicate weakness.
We were herded because of our abstract language.
We strolled around valleys of the broken scrimmage.
Hued localities to us that display customary right.
We were observing the hue, and the slope didn't light.
Paradoxes and dipole oddity shuffle the process.
Stains and optic tricks are proved by farsightedness.
The moon hunts light-based bliss, yet tracts escape way.
Moral plights rally above my eyes, atman, and soul ray.
For a barred period, I'm sprung that shrouds are no withal.
The way to an Irreconcilable codicil is straightforward tall.
First place contest winner
Written:February 14, 2022
This or That, Vol 10 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
"Life is like a boat tossed on the deep sea
To journey through sunshine and stormy waves." By author
A Lonely Soul
I have strolled alone in the Ganges plains
walked alone in weird wild wilderness
ascended steep hills laid with thorns
trodden alone dense forests
gulped pills of bitterness
waged uphill battles
all through my life
up till now
alone
as
I
am a
lonely soul
sailing my boat
in midst of the sea
braving the stormy waves
at mercy of the wild winds
with only the Lord as my guide
to steer my boat to the rightful port
towards end of my perilous journey.
Lady, weave Your circle tight
With a web of living light
Earth and Air and Fire and Water
Bind us to you.
MacDermot, the Prince of Coolavin came
to Connachta a fair maiden to win,
as the maypole rose a redhead proclaimed,
that to marry him, her heart was aflame;
so life comes again with a slow spin.
The pole is lifted and she beribbons him;
merry as their red and white ribbons crossed
wedded like wefts in the weave of the Lord's skein.
MacDermot the Prince was right chivalrous.
How the town folk of Sligo laughed and danced
each youthful suitor had bells on their shoes.
Eight at a time the couples round pranced
every Da's hoped his daughter to loose.
But, Meg the red had a mind to seduce,
and the Prince, well the Prince, was Goddess crossed.
Meg's lips were wine and he had but those two;
MacDermot the Prince was right chivalrous.
White for the virgin each Goddess blessed
red for the God of the green woods so old
green ribbons the forest, gold's sun's tressed
all twirl round the royal wreath topped Maypole.
Blessed is the tree, with honors foretold
as maids and masters their ribbons criss-crossed
while the Prince MacDermot held Meg; they strolled.
MacDermot the Prince was right chivalrous.
The Rune Inguz was read, they blessed all holds
and the grand green hills were bereft of frost
for spring was here and their vows were told.
MacDermot the Prince was right chivalrous.
First came Storm Ciara
On Sunday the ninth of February
She caused total havoc throughout the UK
Heavy rain brought serious flooding
Her gales so strong brought buildings tumbling
Whilst on the Isle of Wight
The most southerly tip of England
Gusts of ninety seven miles per hour
Uncovered a fossil upon earth’s core
A Dinosaur footprint from a Therapod
Who had strolled along this beach
one hundred and thirty million years before
Now in the throes of wind and rain
Another storm
Another name
He’s called Storm Dennis
Another menace
And he has just arrived
Brings heavy rain and gale force winds
I truly hope we all survive
his havoc and devastation
But like Storm Ciara he may unearth
never before seen hidden treasure
Showing even storms leave positive gifts
for us all to enjoy and explore at our leisure
Written 15th February 2020
Contest Strand No 680
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Millie was flattered by the whistling of men
But her friend, Tillie, told her to think again
"They're just catching their breath
but are as pale as death.
It's healthy ones, Millie, for whom we should yen."
"Well, darn it, girl. You know I'm hard of hearing
I thought those guys were speaking words, endearing.
"That noise is their wheezing,
and their looks aren't pleasing!
Let's move along now, Millie. Please stop leering."
Millie looked back but off fell her eyeglasses
She stopped to rip toots and expelled her gasses
"I know that really stinks!"
She laughed, "I'm such a minx."
Don't tell me I should take etiquette classes!"
They strolled until Tillie had to take a seat
for she was feeling a bit faint from the heat
Millie started to scold,
"Tillie, you're gettin' old."
"Not too old to kick your walker to the street!"
"I'm only saying those guys were old geezers,
not the sexy kind we once called 'strip teasers!"
And at that thought, Tillie smiled
In younger days, they'd been wild
"They're not what we'd ever call 'woman pleasers."
Along a shaded lane I strolled,
then to a fork I came.
A man in sandals rested there,
I did not know his name.
Where are you going he inquired?
my reply, I do not know.
He told me it was time to choose,
That the way he'd gladly show.
As down the less worn path I stared,
fully covered by the Son.
A voice from deep within me said,
no fool, not that one.
The shaded path's most traveled,
Its smooth and right for you.
But alas, this traveled path was black,
what was I now to do?
Strange voices seemed to beckon me,
from down the shaded lane.
With the promise of great times and riches,
along with other earthly gain.
To the sandaled man I turned again,
knowing not what I should say.
With arms outstretched he took my hand,
He's since led me all the way.