Long Sweetening Poems
Long Sweetening Poems. Below are the most popular long Sweetening by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sweetening poems by poem length and keyword.
Through the music of a child’s laughter
On the edge of a soft, silent whisper
Comes the grace that heals and fills
Hearts with sweetness, kindness, acceptance
Through the song that caresses the wind
When a robin flies over the gentle hills
Breathing hope into the precious inspirations
Of a joy that knows the comfort of imagination
Through the light that lingers on the clouds
Coloring the heavens in flowery signs of a smile
Murmuring merrily amid the grumble of rain showers
Flickering life into the heart of divine insight
Through the blaze of a fiery mystery, a secret
So intuitive and wise that it hangs optimism
Across the seas of understanding, adorning the moments
With beautiful dreams that haunt the soul with passion
Through the blushes of captivation and fulfillment
Linger beauties so alive they embrace the naked emotions
With a sense of enrichment that caresses the desires
Of a nature who reaches beyond the moment into eternity
Through the echoes reaching across the ridges of sapphire
Lightening the affections with simplicity and feathery visions
Lovely caresses of prayers and praises sending out illumination
Of joy, gentleness, feelings so rich and vibrant they’re healing
Through the promise of a God who lives in the heavens
Answering hearts and souls with inspirational messages
Caressing spirits with love so awash in ecstasy it fascinates
The life who listens to the still, small voice who breathes into
The spirit… assurance that His love is always with us
A certainty, assurance, reality… a penetrating tear
Dripping across the senses with fulfillment and softness
Benevolence and wisdom, freeing the soul to listen
To His pure, sweet spirit – calling through the sensations
Of a love that lingers on the embrace of God’s gift
God’s love is always with us – guiding us, filling us
Sweetening our lives and feelings – with goodness
Hope, faith and peace that meets all our needs
Brushes our thoughts with inspiration and colors our
World in hues of vibrant, flamboyant joy from knowing
GOD is alive – and He is living through my life!
They start thick—
not the polite kind you stir into tea
not the mild drizzle on breakfast toast
but the kind that runs hot
slow
dangerous
coating your tongue before you grasp
the price of its pleasure.
They start golden—
dripping off the comb
sun pressed into their marrow
too rich, too syrupy—
gumming up the gears of your schemes
too luminous for hands that flinch from light
too wild for walls meant to contain them.
You want squeeze-bottle love.
Clean.
No bees.
No stingers.
No buzz.
But they ferment in kitchens
where no one thanks them—
same way their grandmothers did
spooning fire into each serving
stinging their own tongues
just to stay sharp—
drizzling down your better judgment staining
Sunday shirts
unraveling wedding vows
spilling past boundaries
no one asked them to obey.
They get called—
too much.
too loud.
too open.
too shut—
like they were born to fit into your grip
instead of slipping right through it.
You try to jar them.
Slap on barcodes:
Best before.
Handle with care.
Discount if damaged
for quick sale.
But wild honey won’t kneel—
it contradicts logic
defies preservation
reason
perfumes the air
wrecks your thirst for tradition.
You mistook raw for reckless
Reckless for ruin
Ruin for something to fear.
You laughed when they wept—
like grief was a spectacle
like tenderness was weak
like softness
was a defect to be filtered out.
But by the time you realize
she’s the rarest thing
you ever tasted—
she’s already sweetening
the hands that never swatted her
And now,
we sit here—
jars without lids,
spoons still sticky—
trying to remember
what it meant to taste something
that never begged to be caged.
Maybe—
the glass wasn’t meant to hold her.
Maybe—
it was meant to shatter—
to let something wild
and feral
flood in
and leave you
pleading
for ruin.
—it’s a reckoning,
unapologetic,
untamed,
final.
By Cherbo Geeplay
You woke me up when I was dead,
teaching the night stars wantonly
to obey the Atlantic; then slashed
my arteries in flight to Lake Piso,
humbling its boundaries, before
fusing them calmly to a gel.
When the elders speak in parables,
it is a mix of pepper soup which the
fufu welcomes and surrounds. As
the deer is trapped in the undergrowth,
so does it wait to be strapped. —These
are the open arms to the farms, mucking
the deserted mansions decked in chocolate
nuts, covered in honey; the lost spectacles
of yesterday is now over. Once gowned with
cluttered cow-webs and peppered with
shrubs, this, before the revival of the
grimy walls, serenade and greened
with lilies whose aroma calls from
a hundred miles to the carpenter
—the tool man and his bride waiting
to be announced as the sun swell
the hilltops, smiling to the boats
sailing on smooth tides.
ll
Moving quietly to fair waves,
the clouds crushed, hovers,
washing the mud away,
freeing her from the rocks,
bathing the earth and taking
away the dust disguised as
chaffs. the yacht’s inviting voice
is heard throttling along—between
hearty murmurs, chuckling to the
weaving currents, curving the
Atlantic surf, dancing fervidly,
where the fires meet the pits of
burning woods. The hearth in a
melody on the placid shores of Sinkor,
intimately as Monrovia grins to the Atlantic.
lll
Bewitched, racing to the beaches
is a sweetening of the surf stones.
The shells humbled under the rocks.
In trance, the turtles are running
with the whales, the currents,
silvery, the smell of saltwater
overpowering, yet elegant. Your
slender sailing finger rubbing
my rough ankles bring comfort.
—You woke me up when
I was dead, teaching
the night stars wantonly
to obey the Atlantic Bay,
like seashells humbled under the rocks.
Copyright 2018, Adelaide Literary, NY
Only those who have not yet met truly love each other,
Those who, in the early morning horizon, imagine themselves as kings and queens without sin,
They dream in the secretive color of amethyst, hidden somewhere deep,
Where the heart, intoxicated by the unseen moon, weaves its untouched desires.
They are like two parallel universes, close but never destined to meet,
In their cosmic dance, traversing unexplored, unembraced circles of stars,
They look at one another, through a veil of comets, with hope in their eyes,
Flashes of potential, of pure love, in the night where silence and mystery intertwine.
Hands reach out towards the moon, the cutter of nights, grasping only dreams and echoes,
In a phantom embrace, through which the celestial breeze passes, cold yet somehow hot,
The longing for a kiss ungiven, under the fluttering eyelid of time that pulsates and waits,
And unformed promises rise like smoke, dreaming of shapes, of completed contours.
In this labyrinth of the unknown, where footsteps resonate like an ancient song,
Lies the sweet elixir of mystery, sweetening every imagination,
Thus, in the space between certain and possible, floats the scent of an unnamed love,
As two souls seek each other among the stars and find each other in the unwavering moonbeams.
They are like two butterfly wings haunting the gardens of evening in a seraphic hue,
Touching only in the breath of wind vibrating with scents of jasmine and lavender,
The purity of an unknown feeling follows its path in evanescent bites,
And in the mystery that envelops them, the love born of the unknown seems eternal and holy.
Therefore, true love ascends in universes waiting to be discovered,
On unwritten book pages, in soundless melodies, it opens the way to infinite life,
For the sake of imagining what could be, they remain truly in their shared longing,
For in the unclear vision of beginnings, the incomprehensible possibilities of pure and undimming love are hidden.
Words on a page, sounds, Mother's calling
soft tones rose from leather tomes sweetly,
through rouged lips they tumble with love.
Lullabies call through the coldest of nights
as frost haloes about the curls, open-hearted,
eager, a child of contested love’s joining.
What would this chimera become now joined.
Oh what would be the result of this clarion call?
Angels wonder at the blend of unformed heart,
as words of Our Fathers resound so sweet
for the thrice kissed lips of child and overbearing night.
May all who come from the light delight in love.
May the child addressed bring comfort, bring love,
grow in service to the higher good and join
the wholesome hearts who warm the darkest night,
for bringing comfort, kindness, and caring is a calling,
which teaches every opened soul of sweetness
and heals the aching angry sores of forlorn hearts.
With words of joy, and a voice full of heart
let her hands touch, and sooth, each pain lovingly,
with the like-minded teachers and nurses sweetening
the balm smoothed upon the brow of man, enjoined
to heed the call, the ancient ever-present call
of majesty in morning and peaceful rest at night.
Each life presents its morning and ends in eternal night.
Each soul stores fonts of happiness and heartache.
Conception buds and blooms, sending out a clarion call
enjoining all who have the healing gift to garner love.
Gentle ones, who plant the seeds, tend the hearts join…
be the humble gardeners of the meek and sweet.
What task could be richer or path sweeter
than that of those who doctor, and nurse, and warm night?
Tender hearts and helping hands come together, join…
in the higher consciousness of he’s and she’s heartfelt.
Raise the banner; fly the unifying flag of healing love,
make this your onward path the Way, the Red Road your calling.
For what is sweeter day or night for each are joined,
heartily we love and live to heed these fine callings.
In his eyes – I see the sun rise
In his smile – I can sit a while
In his life – I learned to be a wife
When I dream of forever
We are always there whatsoever
Comes into our lives, our light
Silencing the darkest of night
Reminding us why we’re alive
Why we’ll continue to survive
Because this love that inspires
Burns with such pleasure, fires
That keep my heart bound to his
Forever, stirred by his kiss, there is
Music that comes to those who listen
Seeking the wonder with its glisten
Searching the heart and soul for love
That exposes kind spirits from above
Sweetening the feeling that binds us
Never weary, never creating a fuss
Leaving the miracle of a love that lasts
Through every fear that worry casts
When I dream of the way we’re connected
With a tenderness, affection that is reflected
In our lives – the kindness that we give away
With the love we share, the prayers we pray
The way we feel inside is uncovered in his embrace
The way he makes me feel is so full of grace
Roused by the gentle beliefs, the sincerity bringing
My heart to life, my spirit to light, his voice ringing
With the sound of a joy that consumes because
He is my husband, my valentine, the one I applause…
As the man I love more than I can possibly describe
With a love that can’t be bought – love I can’t bribe
With a love I celebrate every morning and every night
Love so amazing – so brilliant and wise – a love I must write
In words meant for him, the one who is my life – the one
Whose beauty and brilliance can’t ever be undone
This is the man I love more than I can possibly say -
With a love that I’m celebrating on this Valentine’s Day!
Valentine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
January 15, 2023
Deep within the realms of my inquisitive mind is burdened a thought. Given birth
by silent amazement as I pondered upon nature, its beauty eternal.
Ages bloom and fade like flowers, yet remains this burden, this thought does not
devour!...
Like a lonely flower in the midst of the midnight forest of vast mysteries
I am lost!
I stumble upon thee, a desolate leaf, shrivelled and ebbed of life. It clinches with
what strength remains to its master, a great tree. An ocean of sympathy floods
my soul as I stand here and glance upon thee.
“ Do not feel sorry for me”, it whispers, “ for I myself have no regrets in these
fading moments of my life. Let my appearance deceive you not, for it is infinite joy
not fear that surrounds me. Tis not melancholic darkness but heart sweetening
light that dances within my soul.
Many an idle day have I served my master, my purpose in life have I fulfilled. For
since the dawn of spring, my brothers and I, have welcomed the morning sun,
the light of life to dance upon us. Throughout the duration of summer have we
gathered this light and served our master, our purpose of existence. Now that
autumn has awoken my life nears an end. The breeze of the forthcoming winter
hath blown farewell to all my brothers, thus only I remain. When I go from hence
let this be my parting word:
I have given my life, sacrificed my soul to fulfil thee with life, my master, so if the
end comes here, let it come!...
A gentle breath of wind blew the proud leaf into the distant horizon......
The thought that burdened me for an eternity had finally found it resting place.
What is the purpose of my life?
To serve thee, my lord, my master, the purpose of my existence.....
“Christmas is like candy; it slowly melts in your mouth sweetening every taste bud, making you wish it could last forever.” – Richelle E. Goodrich
Xmas means
the time of winter people love.
Traditions there are plenty of,
especially where Christians live.
A time to celebrate and give!
A time to give to all those who
we love so much and strangers too.
Salvation Army rings its bell.
Donations we should give and well!
Xmas means
the time to think of One who lay
one night upon a bed of hay,
Who died in innocence because
His way of saving us it was.
A time to pray; a time to play;
to maybe ride upon a sleigh.
To hear sweet children shout with glee
and decorate a festive tree.
Xmas means
a time that kids look forward to
and all the wrapping parents do.
White Elephant, my favorite game
and Secret Santa – draw a name!
A time for making special treats
to give the neighbors - mostly sweets!
To plan for parties and to send
cards to every special friend.
Xmas means
a time for songs about God’s son
and silly kids’ songs just for fun
like songs of Santa and his reindeer.
Almost all those songs bring good cheer.
A time of great anticipation
for our children’s great elation.
Special shows for all to see
and pretty gifts beneath the tree.
Xmas means
when family can be together
finding ways to enjoy the weather -
like skating, sledding down a hill,
or making snowmen, too a thrill.
The ham, the turkey, all that food.
The Christmas spirit, the best mood.
It’s sad that some alone will cry.
To share the joy we all must try!
April 29, 2023
for Writing Challenge - Words With 'X' - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
There was a flower with a dream
Within its heart like a sun
And life was like a living stream
That kept rolling on and on
The flower grew each day brighter
And the dream steadfast yet
Like a stamen still sweeter
Golden rose, but could not set
Time grew longer and flowers fade
But a pollen sweetly holds
One dream a stigma to invade
And rise while time onward rolls
For that pollen flourished stronger
When petals shrivelling aged
And could nurse the dream no longer
Against life's sore sudden rage
Each petal knew its day was done
It could not bring still the bee
Its brighter days already run
The nectar dried, dry the tree
But pollens are dreams holding fast
To bring a seed out of gold
The way dreams hold and ever last
While lovers turn gray and old
Their dream to hold hands, dream to walk
The sea's edge kicking the sand
To climb a hill and sit and talk
Or plant and sow the rain glad land
Or like a petal drunk with joy
To dance her in the fresh wind
Holding still the promise since a boy
When ttrembling they halted sin
It was the dream that like a sun
Finally dried up all his veins
The bee to pollen dance and spun
But useless came the bright rains
It sogged him, nothing stiff stayed
When petals shrivel and falls
The flower wrinkles and we fade
And time tumbles solid walls
Only for satisfaction then
They laughed while the waning moon
To its rest sadly too descend
Dreaming bright amidst the ruin
Of love kept O too long apart
Of flowers faded in the sun
Of dreams still sweetening the heart
Of hopes past when time is done
Amandla Stenberg
Prologue
My eyes often
Have been whipped with beauty:
Eyes graced with illuminations,
Smiles stirring emotions,
Lips as of the soft hay,
Caressing the voluptuous day.
But beauties are flawed:
Distinct from yours.
I
Your pupils are like the sun
When peeping at prime of the day-
Liveliness it strikes in turn,
As her gaze touches the summer's day.
Your smiles are like honey,
But not like honey:
Sweetening a battered heart.
Yet, it's your cheapest art.
Your voice is the communion
Of the waves and the sea,
Apt communication,
Driving attention in crazed velocity.
Your steps are like the gazelle's,
A point in time: another the next.
Comportment of aligned structures:
The most contentious infrastructure.
II
All guys would want you:
Those bound by sanity rule
Those whose pupils are rid of scales
Tinted in darkest blackness' shade-
For your makes are of the cherub,
Perhaps you missed your way to earth: once a cherub.
III
And this is your plight
With whom you often fight:
" All men are caught in the spell of my beauty,
And all would come to use and dump me.
Better of, I'll be a gay,
Lesbian or any save lay,
To avoid what will not avoid me,
To keep my virgin dignity."
Well, you've got a point,
But you've missed sundry points.
IV
Amandla Stenberg of all.
Come! We really need to talk!
©2018
#Magicalpen
Josh Berry(Ancestor)
joshuaadeyemi431@gmail.com