Long Swan Poems
Long Swan Poems. Below are the most popular long Swan by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swan poems by poem length and keyword.
In elegant gait, you drift with me
My heart- swan precious as river, fresh
Like an eternal wave of devotion purely warmed
As our necks entwine through nature aligned:
Your flutter of plumes ignites my soul
While creamy beaks cleanse each other,
Making us flit into the dew of moonlight as one--
This ballet performed in circles
Enthralls an audience rounding the pond...
I ask then, are humans mated to life like us?
Could our dance show them just how divine
We glide together bobbing as one?...
And so, in the stream of waters fine,
Take me across the lake and allow
Such pleasure of our movement, whole
To be gently fed by all seasons' charms,
While I , in winter's chill, bestow upon YOU
My grace, my oath ...of time evermore.
Love Story Contest sponsored by Viv Wigley
11/11/2017
Eyes still closed ...
Our sated mouths slowly parted,
And what was once cold and unyielding in my palm,
Now stood, blooming as the softness of warm lips ...
Exquisite bows of pink, supple sublimity.
Our eyes opened, and met, knowing ...
Where to first? I asked her ...
She crimped a tiny smile with her lip edges -
The rain, she answered, eyes giggling ...
Where else, silly boy?!?
A hesitation and backward glance,
(To make sure I would follow), then ...
She leapt out into the weeping eventide ...
A brief rest in the wedge of light under a streetlamp,
Then she raised her arms and twirled on one foot -
Flawlessly en retire' ...
No longer gangling and squat, but elegant and shapely -
A swan, caught in a sultry summer shower ...
Birthed of one true and faithful kiss,
Now ... my princess.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Fairy Tale" Poetry Contest, Alexis Y., Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Late May 2018 Standard Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
The Moon, The Swan, The Rose
I see an enchanted image that you’ve never dreamed of
With reflections twinkling while dancing on wave drops
Of a dreamy blue lake that is a mirror of one white swan
A dancing beauty with a pureness that blesses this water
She floats like a princess with such an elegance and grace
As splendor ripples through a lens of her divine existence
A canvas painting as one masterpiece beyond compare
As the moonlight manifests a sweet rose in my dreams
Beautiful to desire now that nothing shall be disturbed
Within a frozen memory a brilliant diamond illuminates
As the full moon’s image enters the depths of her soul
And a sad, certain loneliness leaves her spirit exhausted
Arising before my eyes on the wings of angels I see all
Clearly now with an excited, fluttering magical heartbeat
Believe me—that this eternal blue sky is incredibly real
With a golden orb of light colors reflecting so exquisitely
Now as majestic images of God’s Heaven appear above
I see His very image of the Moon, the Swan, and the Rose
Anne-Lise Andresen, Gary Bateman, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
September 2, 2015 (Unrhymed Tercet)
Rejoice me in Rainbow Colors
For Love,
So sheer White like Scarlet Rose
With Blackening Stem and Naval Petals
Through Yellow Jail Bar reflected
I despair the green sunflower yields
Beyond the silver discarded cut grass
The Blackening dove's overpasses
In turquoise circles
Returning to harlequins tartan Rainbow
Artist easels blush in Pantone Stroke's
Craving Colors
Dancing and reciting lines from Swan Ballet
The likes of which
Silent movies and Black and White
Star's
Could only Dream of
Above and beneath
Our Sun , Sea & Star's
Drawing in Inquisitive passing
Allien Shimmering
Flying Saucers
Wishing only a Self-Portrait of there very own
To hang on the walls in there Space Ship
Ring with no feather in my cap only envy
at handsome man drakes with bucks,
who could bank on "hot chicks" willingly
aligned in arrow emitting clucks
fluffing their respective tail feathers amidst
loud squawking out quacking
establishing pecking order like ducks,
or any other foxy fowl billetted
within walled din noisy hen house
preening, each be solder self flux
sing wings and waddling, flirting, casting...
webbed wide good lucks
at the growing flock
including male friends relatives,
minus yours truly, whose presence,
would merely generate a yawn,
though even a distinct black swan
received royal carpet treatment
particularly one named Shawn
encompassing another honorable guest
with illustrious surname Rawn
guests underwritten by Cupid,
whose presence surreptitiously withdrawn
(invitations distributed widely explained,
just beak cuz gerrymandering redrawn)
even provoking deer interest
of stray doe eyed fawn
hence lacking bravado and brawn
this bird den some seedy,
yet dove out crow kissing Avocet
trundled off to parts unknown you bet
far from boys stir russ, raw cuss, diss cuss
ting clacking clique, and thus this solitary fret
full ostracized, rejected, unwanted egret,
who heron there experienced many a let
down, not simply because of stork disparity
with the Aves and havenots,
but I never met
any other species so set
in their ways, hence off
on a wing and prayer
in search of other gulls,
whom this dodo bird they will coe vet!
Mithila’s Descent
Mithila walks, sleepless,
Across the hills of grief.
The burning fire of memory trails her...
A shadow of mist,
Uncrossable,
Like an uncertain, fleeing cloud.
Time ignites in envy’s blaze.
She floats on sweat water,
Her sixteen-year youth
Nurtured in fatigue.
Bones,
Muscles,
Tremble in the humid air...
Mortality’s edge sharpens
Around her fragile form.
The endangered time of mortality
around Mithila.
Lost in illusion,
She journeys alone—
A swan without a companion,
Adrift in the wreckage
Of ruined nostalgic desire.
Puberty crossed without lust,
Her memories, treasures locked,
Clutched like kin.
Adversity hangs the balance of life.
Tonight, Mithila stands alone in the dusk...
A desolate figure,
Adapting to realms unknown:
A realm of quicksand in the dark.
Drowning,
She dies to survive.
And at last,
Mithila bloomed to be eternal!
( The 21 years college girl was recently found hanged inside the flat, as told victimised by a wealthy, powerful businessman in Bangladesh)
A bottle green, I’m lost at sea,
A cup or two of shamrock dew.
An emerald green, the forest queen,
My silk is spun a leafy hue.
An alpine white, tread polar ice,
The frosted hold of winter’s cold.
A snowdrop white, the spring moonlight,
A swan, a dove, or so I’m told.
A regal blue, and turquoise too,
The fragrant sigh of summer sky.
A cobalt blue, teal velvet view,
Cerulean and lazuli.
A furnace red, cold rubies bled,
The trees must learn autumnal burn.
A merlot red, the Sun’s bloodshed,
The flowers flare and blush in turn.
A tender grey, clouds hush the day,
You’ve silver-lined my burnished mind.
A lover’s grey, my pencils pray,
Soft feathers sleep, our sky is kind.
~ The Swan King ~
(Key To My Heart)
Dream
Within
A dream
Breathless
Symphony
Castle********Of dreams
Romantic King of Bavaria
King Ludwig II was that
Yes was that and more
Tender hearted tortured soul
Unforgettable
His visions unique
Forever
A gift
that keeps
Giving
Thru the years
Misunderstood
Not mad
Sleep in
Peace sweet
King
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp200
copyright@2011
September.19.2018
~Authors notes:
~My very humble tribute to King Ludwig II of Bavaria~
King Ludwig II or Ludwig Otto Friedrich Wilhelm, was King of Bavaria from 1864 until his death. He is sometimes called the Swan King and der Märchenkönig, the Fairy Tale King. He also held the titles of Count Palatine of the Rhine, Duke of Bavaria, Duke of Franconia, and Duke in Swabia.
-King Ludwig II or Ludwig Otto Friedrich Wilhelm (25 August 1845 – 13 June 1886)
-'Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.'-
- Mark Twain-
~Author's notes:
The 'Key To My Heart' is a poetry form or style created by Dorian Petersen Potter aka
ladydp2000 in 2010.
The air was pure and bright. A sea-salt tingle
hovered in an easygoing offshore breeze.
In mesmerising rhythm, wavelets sloshed
and swished along the timeworn jetty wall.
The bay was sparkling in the morning light
as early gannets hungrily patrolled
their crystal-clear domain.Slight movement now
within the overnighting boats, safe moored,
serenely sheltered at the break of day.
A swan flotilla, now near fully grown
and all in a row, in silence glided by,
exploring weed and tidal offerings
under a careful matriarchal eye.
The year was moving on, the midges gone,
and still the little ferry ploughed its course
across the bay, its passengers intent
on finding peace and personal content.
The cafe at the pier, with clinking cups,
was heralding the day, with early starters,
few in number now. The summer throng
dispersed and homeward bound, to feed
on memories. For some, like me,
a fitting epitaph might be
“He lived his life in thoughts of Arran “.
There’s a little girl crying in the corner and she doesn’t want the world to see
An outcast but she’s still somebody’s daughter
Afraid because the pain that her life brings
There’s a little boy too ashamed to go outside
Children are always pushing him down
His mother’s never home because she’s on dope
And the father is no help and no where to be found
so please take care of your babies
tell them when they are young
they’re special, precious and pretty
can you give a little love?
There’s a teenage girl who hasn’t bloomed
The boys overlook her and the girls are cruel
And she has no friends to look out for her
She rather not exist is what she prefers
There’s a teenager boy who brings the pain
He shows them no mercy, they think he’s insane
He just won’t let up until they say please
Until that day comes, he knocks them to their knees
There’s a grown woman and she’s insecure
Never learns to trust she’s so unsure
Relationships a must to validate
But that empty hole is filled with hate
Then her eyes opened and she saw the lord
And the love she always wanted was there all along
You better be careful about the bridges you burn ,
The spirits you break, and the hearts you hurt you
Hurt, you don’t know God’s purpose
Or what we’re here for
Cuz the one you picking on
Can grown into a swan