Long Take for granted Poems

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


Premium Member restless spirit

empowered 
to shape illusions 
we frolic about
in dreams within dreams
until reaching 
point of exhaustion 

silence infuses
rapture of magnetism 
to which we then
get addicted
and so secretly seek
the enlivening bliss current

in timeless time
bliss gets embodied within
an ever present heartbeat of love
which we then take for granted
as an attribute we own
reverberating in permanence 

it is clear we continue to invoke 
subtler layers of vibrations
slowly assimilating what we imbibe
shape shifting like a chameleon 
that presence stripped of ego imprints 
its unique footprint in the void


Premium Member Raindrops

As
rain
starts to fall 
pitter-patter-pitter
beads of water combine
together creating puddles of
water. Children squealing, laughing
as  they play and  jump into them
splish, splash, splosh, happy fun
memories are newly
born.


As
droplets
of rain begins to 
fall giving  life to all, 
grass is greener, plants  grow,  
oceans, streams, rivers fast flow.
animals, aquatics, people thrive
lifes basic requirement to all. 
those precious drops of
water.


A
drink 
of water
a cup of tea,
coffee with bit of cream. 
A bath, a shower, washing hair,
cleaning clothes in a machine. Water 
a valuable and precious source we
often  take  for  granted 
life drops of H20.


                 18.08.21
Form: Concrete

Premium Member My ''Dark'' Journey

my Journey-
coming     is bleak darkening blackness-
but erstwhile I hold onto the light
fleeting and passing

starless    gloomy    and black

anddarknesswillcome
there are days even now obscure
days of shadows
dreadful
scary

oh for a world bright-wonderful

my eyes
will one day close forever in blindness
gloomy    and     black
I must memorize all the beauty
all the faces I love

from sunrise to sunset and
the flowers
treesandfallleaves
and
     the
         blue sky and clouds
all the things we take for granted
all the shadesoftheforest
all the tones of rivers and streams

I fear the nighttime most of all
gloomy
and
black

my steps    unsure
dreadful the shadows lurking
I never go out alone
at night anymore

I recall   that day
telling my boyfriend Henri
he was quiet     said little
next day    gone-

I was     and I am
a girl with Tumbling-hair
                  a picker of wildflowers
                                            pretty weeds
and big red garden roses
                                  through my veil of twilight-
with eyes so sorry and sad
I am waiting
                  for my forever night to fall-

____________________
September 15, 2017

Free Verse/My "Dark" Journey
Copyright Protected,  ID 939981

Premium Member Starbucks



Oh golly,the welcomed feel of that warm paper cup in your hand!
That aroma of both the cup and the paper, to me, is just grand.

The Barista made the coffee just so perfect to your liking.
You carry it down the street, and the morning starts to your liking.
,
That nice snug little lid keeps your coffee perfectly warm.
As you walk into your office, unaware even, there was a storm.
.
Such pleasant little things in life we take for granted.
Ah, that whiff of Starbuck's beans, each day by millions...wanted!!

                      January 22, 2020
                            6:30pm  PST
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Freedom

Freedom isn't something
We should never take for granted
It's a feeling resting deep inside
It's roots are firmly planted

From birth to death we struggle
To always do what's right
And sometimes lose our focus
The goal seems out of sight

Lose sight of what's important
Get hung up on petty things
At times forget there are some folks
Who don't have anything

Homes destroyed in an instant
Feeling terror every day
Is this the day their life will end
Ruthlessly snatched away?

The real measure of one's freedom
Is buried deep in our soul
Reach down deep every single day
Be thankful of your role
Form: Rhyme


My Door Is Open

My door will always be open to those who are in need
sharing the wealth of goods and time, I will concede,
but do not abuse my giving nature until I bleed,
or I will slam my door in the face of abusive greed.

I'll loan you that proverbial cup of sugar, my friend.
Ask nothing in return of you. I'll charge no dividend.
If it's a shoulder you need, then I will gladly spend
all afternoon with you, until you're on the mend.

I'll lend you my time, my shoulder, and my sympathy.
Return again tomorrow and we'll have a cup of tea.
But don't you take for granted, my offered hospitality
for if you do, you'll find my door locked...permanently.
Form: Rhyme

Beautiful Simplicity

Bringing me to a place of solitude, shrinks my problems away,
I can open the door to simple joy, the things I love everyday,
My mind wanders off to another world into the art of beauty I see,
And I realize all the problems and worries don't mean anything,
I'm grateful for the sunrise that lights my eyes by day,
And I'm grateful for the moon and stars that shine in darkness way,
I'm grateful for the beauty that many take for granted,
I fix my eyes on the design of this life, and thank God that I have it,
For when the hurt of this world surrounds me, this is where I hide,
In the arms of my God and his creation, and all the treasures of love I find,
I was that silly little girl that would purposely play hide and go seek,
Just to run away to say I'm spending time with my king,
They would search for me until dinnertime right when the sun was going down,
They never found my special spot or the treasure I had found,
So in this game of life that is played, there is a simple rule,
That you take time to notice details and value simplicity in all you do

Baby Doll

Someone called me baby doll today
like it was nothing,
like it was just a name
tossed casually across a workplace aisle.
But it wasn’t nothing.
Only two people ever called me that
One is still here,
alive and breathing
on the other end of a phone call
I keep meaning to make more often.
And it scared me
how quickly love becomes a reminder.
Because life is short.
Because tomorrow is not promised.
Because one day
even the voices we take for granted
become echoes.
And then my mind went to the other.
Her anniversary is coming up
like a quiet storm on the calendar,
and grief hit me the way it always does
unexpected,
unfair,
sharp in the middle of an ordinary day.
I miss her.
Later, I passed the flower display,
rows of softness
wrapped in cellophane and sweetness.
I used to say
I don’t like flowers.
Not because they aren’t beautiful,
but because they die too fast.
Because they remind me
that even the prettiest things
are borrowed.
But maybe that’s the point.
Maybe the beauty of life
is that it doesn’t stay.
That we are meant
to notice it while it’s here
to hold it,
to smell it,
to love it loudly
before it wilts into memory.
Maybe flowers aren’t tragic.
Maybe they are proof
that something can be breathtaking
even if it doesn’t last.
And maybe grief
is just love
reaching for what it can’t touch anymore.
So tonight
I will call and tell her I love her.
And I will whisper baby doll
into the quiet,
as if she might hear it
somewhere in the place
all beautiful things go 
when they leave too soon.

My Time

This story is not about what you have
It is all about what you have been given
Things you take for granted
This story is not about what you have achieved
It is all about what you have not achieved yet
Things you do not appreciate
Finish that sentence

As the sun goes down in the evening
And the time slips through your fingers
Know that I am what I am
As the sun rise up in the morning
And the dreams keeps on
I am what I was born to be

This story is not about what you know
It is all about what you have not known yet
Things fall in the right places
This story is not about who you know
It is all about who you going to know
Things have a way
Conclusion has begun

Premium Member Weather Wonders

Golly,how I longed 
            for summers heat!
            And now that it is here, 
            I cry, retreat?
            We human beasts never 
            satisfied.
            Each season, we complain 
            ungratified?
            Rarely grateful, just to 
            be alive!
            Do you thank God to see an 
            artistic sunrise?
            For any state of health, you 
            take for granted?
            And to see the reflection of 
            moonlight, in your cat's eyes, 
            mystically green and slanted!





                            5/16/2021
                               ~1~
Form: Quatrain

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