Long Sunsets Poems

Long Sunsets Poems. Below are the most popular long Sunsets by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sunsets poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Alabaster Flame

Written: May 25, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Silent One

2nd place contest winner

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Quote: "Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.” — By Rumi ( With my honest wishes of a long and healthy life— Very Happy Birthday.

The moon still glows—an alabaster flame,  
memory’s mirror, never the same.  
Spume drifts, shimmering and bright,  
not shadowy, but limpid light.  

You watch sunsets and softly muse—  
Do you fade, or do you fuse?  
Their shades shroud loss and gain,
a peculiar parity of pleasure and pain.  

Lessons grasped don’t be acrimonious,
regrets mollified primarily harmonious. 
Time’s conundrum teaches clear—  
Delicate days are a deep fear. 

To your tender time, you’d tell and attire,
Beware quixotry, yet seize the desire.  
Do not anathemize your fall—  
Failure’s anodyne heals all.  

Though tristful shadows at times prowl,  
still you liaise with joy, still you howl.  
Twilight or dawn, the soul’s refrain—  
amaranthine light will remain.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member What Dreams Are Made Of

Dreams can take you  to far away places
Like deserts or jungles where tigers give chase
Sometimes you may even become a pirate
Where swashbuckling adventures await
 
In another dream you may be a rock star
with screaming fans as you play your guitar
Many have dreams of going to heaven
Where angels sing and  golden  thrones  glisten

  Some dreams are made of apple pies
topped  off  with an  ice cream surprise
 Others may  comprise   beautiful sunsets
 with the deep blue sea for a net
 Still others  are made of candied yams
 sweetened with teaspoons of blueberry jam

 But some are made of thorns and thistles
 that jolt and make you bristle
 While others are made of  barbed wire
 that cut  deeply  and  make you tire
 Some are nightmares which can be quite a scare
 And can intensify your fears
 Here's hoping your sleep is serene and complete
 And that all your dreams are sweet
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member 'the Prince'

A fierce wind howls, and dark clouds race across the horizon,
   and beneath a hood draped over his face, a man whispers;
of a vast land with wild waters, of streaking sunrises and sunsets,
      and woodlands in a thousand glorious shades and colors.

The Prince of Time, has heard her prayers calling for him,
   past time and destiny and beyond-   her tears have beckoned;
his mission, to find her and together they will dwell in his world,
      she has dreamt of him, though his face is always darkened.

Yet, she loves him with all her heart and soul-   this she knows,
   over mountain peaks high and rivers and woods wild, he journeys;
now, he stands in the shadows in her room, in the mist of dawn,
      hair in tangles, her skin ivory-  she gives breath to his fantasies.

a bird is singing and her room smells of the forest as she rises,
      a soft touch has awaken her, a lover's caress so slight.

All that day she is haunted with unknown feelings and loneliness,
   wandering the garden, she walks lost in dreamy thoughts brazen;
he watches from the foliage and whispers, "the time is soon,"
      she hesitates-  listening, then he fades away in the dappled sun.

That evening soft candlelight flickers on the walls of her room,
   it casts shadows in the corners-  a breeze fills the silence;
she sits at her dressing table, brushing her hair until it shines,
      suddenly, a wind catches the strands and tangles the brilliance.

He stands behind her waiting and slowly removes his hood,
   but she has no fear, as she stares at him in the mirror;
she has been waiting-  as he twines his fingers through her hair,
      then leading her to the bed, he whispers, "it is time dreamer."

She is found in the morning, peaceful- deathly still,
   her face so pale against the white sheets, her lips lush red;
the rain gently falls on her coffin as mourners bow as,
        two spirits float away.

__________________________________________________
September 9, 2019 

(based on my poem "The Prince of Time''

Poetry/Narrative/'The Prince'
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1179-678-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.
Form: Narrative

Roller Ball Girl

Between sweat dripping on sunsets lips
Young girl licks her cherry smile
Horizon splits open with her roller blades
Takes to the highway flying by
Jets away with speeds increasing by the mile 
Solid body firm and sweet
Hills are happy to be massaged
Then something weird still not conceived
Soon happens as she lifts ball bearing needs
Cuts through heavy grasses in pastures green
Forests come on faster than a bullet
Fall behind her at the speed of light
Roller girl is hungry for the race
Leaves the planet with such grace
Arms lifted to the planets
Breasts open wide to the embrace in outer space
Where racing is a challenge
You can guess there is no stopping her
On the atmosphere she spins awhile
Traveling past Mars before she takes a breath
Music playing in her head set, batteries in place 
Merging with the tune of cosmos turbulence
She's dancing along the rings of Saturn now
When she returns for sleeping soft as snow
Not knowing how rolling begins and ends
Wheels still spin remembering

Premium Member Sunsets of Life

When walking out the door, seeing the orb 
Question came was it a sunset or sunrise
'Twas beautiful gold though clouds' rays some absorb
It was then I knew we're old and wise   

Of course, recognized it was a sunset for us
But I didn't know how soon your sun would set
For you it turned to being so blessed plus
But for me my life's dreams offset

Thinking we'd walk in life's sunset together
Maybe more time to enjoy our ramada
Whether it was cold, hot or stormy weather
Somehow we'd try a Mexican tostada

You've gone home meeting loved ones, friends, Jesus
While I deal with earth's doubts, not He who frees us
art
Form: Sonnet


Premium Member no poet, am I

poet, you called me?
          oh no - that’s not I ...
               there's truly just ONE
     he writes ‘pon the sky

of sunsets and stars
          of space without end
               with bold dazzling ink
     from a masterful pen

rhymes of dust devils
          cloud anvils and rains
               mists from the moors
     or wind-tickled plains

meadows a-blooming
          or snow-crusted peaks
               odes made for sunrise
     with blush on its cheek

a green flash, auroras
          the comets and moon
               intense constellations
     that rollick and swoon

bright, stabbing bolts
          to pierce a night’s sky
               huge, spiraling storms
     with a sun in their eye

the sonnets He writes
          are authentic and true
               surpassing the greatest
     my words can construe

and yet every-so-often
          He’ll bless this old fool
               to impart me the grace
     and make me … His tool

so, I'd love to take credit
          but I must keep in sight
               that I'm just an aged pen
     with which He may write

thus, I might seem poetic
          for the tales that I've spun
               but regarding TRUE poets
     there's really ... just ...

ONE.







Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, May 6, 2024 (rewrite)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A People and a Place I Love

There was a place, supposedly, that was my home.
I was born and grew up in that Southern place.
My family was great, but that place, not so much.
I heard it said that home is where your story began.
But honestly, that place was never really home to me.

There is a neighborly place, saturated with love and grace.
It's a church community in a river city of trees, situated                                                                                              
In a valley of beautiful sunrises and sunsets between                                                                                                    
The High Sierras, Lake Tahoe, and The Deep Blue Sea.

Sure, we were looking for a new church home,
But I was not in a hurry and did not want to go there.
For years, after going, I never really wanted to be there.
For years, I was uninvolved and behaved like one who didn't care.

And then, that friendly church became a place like none other.
Like being knitted together with family, a sister, or a brother.
Like a place of renowned, to cherish and to treasure.

When I think about our 28 years there, I realize it was the dearest.
A place where success was rewarded, and failure did not cause one
'To be less than', to run, to hide, to pretend, or to feel disregarded.

A place where rejected and weak ones can once again become strong.
A place, not about who's right or wrong, but about finding where one belongs.
A place where one could say, "Leave me alone", and not fear being left alone.

O, you may say it's time to move on and find a new place to roam.  Make no Mistake, We have moved on; but 'that pastor' will aways be 'my pastor',         
And 'that church' will always be 'my church'.

031722PS
Form: Narrative

Premium Member What If

What if the Gods created the most beautiful planet
and filled it with valleys and mountains and trees
with wildflowers that bloom in Spring
with fishes, and birds and bees.

What if they added waterfalls…and ladybugs…an occasional butterfly
and sunrises and sunsets so colorful they kaleidoscope the sky.

And what if once they were finished the Gods were so elated
with the beauty and magnificence of the planet they created

they decided this beauty needed to be experienced to be felt…and thus
what if the Gods created people to enjoy it…what if the Gods created us.

What if the Gods hoped we’d not only appreciate the love and beauty that surround us
but spread that love and beauty to everyone and everything around us.

What if the Gods never dreamed anything bad would happen
What if the Gods were wrong…
What if the people tainted the beauty the Gods created
What if the people could not get along.

And what if now every time the Gods look down on us
every time they realize their mistake…
their tears fall as rain from the heavens
filling our oceans our rivers…our lakes.

What if the Gods created the most beautiful planet
with but one hope…that we’d enjoy it…
What if the Gods created the most beautiful planet…
and all we did…was destroy it.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Light - 1

The light shines in your eyes
Smiling and laughing
Teasing me with a vibrant beam
Caressing my thoughts
With music from the heart

The light whispers against bare
Skin, warming, energizing, invigorating
Reminding me that I can begin again
To hope and to pray, to believe
And to say… Love is alive inside

The light breathes gently through me
Embracing even the pain within
Coloring my soul in reflections of hope
Brightening my life with joy so alive
It penetrates my spirit with clarity

The light enlightens my deepest dreams
With hues of lavender sunsets and dawns
Flickering to the heavens in calm thought
Of all that has touched my heart and soul
With faith, hope and love that are forever

The Light is always alive, sending joy through my life

That Blessed Door

That Blessed Door

O the rain...the rain...the falling rain 
that fell and fell and fell again 
keeping you from my door...O my door...that blessed door! 

O the sunset...the sunset...the carnelian sunsets
how I long to hold them in my hand...so when you are blue...so blue
so deep dark blue...you can come to me 
and I will open my hand so 
you can wonder...O the wonder...wide open wonder
Xanthus yellows and amber golds streaming 
from my palm...my palm...my humble palm 
and so you will become immortal 
O if only I could keep you there
...you...only you swathed in light and warmth
safe...and sound...close to me forever
You who I am lost to...the vessel-ed seas

O how I long for the sea...O the sea...the sparkling sea
in its emerald greens and topaz hues 
it's passions, powers …a relentless muse
I long to place it in my heart...
my heart...O my a thousand times broken heart
so the pieces can wash away and I can float free 
into the wind...O the wind...the wetted whipping winds that billow the sheets hung in my yard 
whispering wild and wondrous things to dreaded demons 
washing them away with the rain
...the rain...the falling rain that fell and fell and fell again 
keeping you from my door...O my door...that blessed door that opened 
to your face -one cold crisp morn...
So blessed by God ...O My God...My Gorgeous God! 
if only I could hold you in my soul…O my soul …my sodden soul
that I would not get so often lost in my shadows ...O the shadows
my small and tall...wide and slanting shadows and the darkness
...O the darkness...the black coal darkness 
that chases me down alleyways of night and telling taunt me under the slivered moon...
O the moon...my beautiful mindful midnight moon...my crescent and my full moon
O my love ...my love....my eternal love 
if only I could sprinkle you like confetti...upon the earth 
and every life
O life...the very thing life...the breathe that enters that which wasn't and so then is till cradled in death
Death....O death...O damned-able death!
if only you were not so draped in confession that I must pray
I pray...O how I pray that the vastness...the vastness...the great and cosmic-ian vastness beyond is more splendid still than Earth...
Our Earth...our blessed wondrous Earth
perfect hungry sad beaten tarnished dirtied Earth...O MY EARTH
...how I love you!

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