Long Tempt Poems
Long Tempt Poems. Below are the most popular long Tempt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tempt poems by poem length and keyword.
The desert breeze
Blowing across sun baked sands
Lifeless eternity going off in all directions
Tracks of wagons show through beneath the blue skies
Centuries of dust lifted into the air by swirling winds
Covering every trace that life was ever there
Heat as hot as any oven roasts even the strongest soul
Water holes that were there one day
Dried up overnight
Surrounded by the bones of horses left behind
And the graves of a few men
Buried by love ones left to suffer
How did they make it?
What made them push on through Hell on Earth?
In the distance there were mountains
Maybe a day away
Most likely a month
Snow covered peaks tempt the soul
Plush with the tallest trees draw them to the west
With rivers flowing like strings of jewels
Rolling down moss covered rocks
Toward the deep blue green sea
The smell of the pine
The clean scent of a waterfall
Drifts across the empty sands
Filling the few left with hope
People and horses struggle
Suffer through pain unimagined by others
Hours, days and weeks more
To stand at the foot of the Rockies
And get a look at the Promised Land
So they will suffer no more
DOES HE
Does he touch you with deep cabernet dreams,
or is it all white wine passion?
does your heart race from his nearness?
is there surrender in his scent?
does he tempt you?
does he leave you breathless?
are you tantalized with jalapeno kisses,
like butterflies stinging spicy pleasure on your inner thighs?
does he entice you?
do you feel wicked and waxened?
do you scream bruja's incantations
moan verses of ancient runes?
is your ****** seismic?
does he read like a mystery with a hint of gypsy blood?
does he consume you?
can he make you laugh in color?
does he feed your madness calm your storm?
does he feel betrayed by your shadow?
is he envious and jealous of your light?
does he sit in stillness while you listen to your muse?
does he make you feel whole?
does he?
does he?
i once did!
didn't i?
2/6/18
You Curse At, Strike, and Kill Me, My Sons and Daughters, Yet You Claim That Your Actions Are Just and I am Wrong, Unjust and Deserve Your Retribution.
My Father’s Have Spilled Blood In Defending Their Land, Acquiring New Territory, and Protecting the Land which was Given to Our Father Abraham and Promised Through His Son Isaac to Israel and all his Descendants.
I am a Gentile.
A Son by Adoption.
For I Believe in Yeshua or Jesus Christ.
I Believe that He is The Son of the Living God, and that He Will Return One Day For his Bride, The Church, To Redeem His Inheritance And Claim His Rightful Throne As King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
So If You Continue to Persecute His Children, Descendants and Fellow Israelites ,Do You Think He will Not Take Notice and Defend His People?
Then, You Are Greatly Deceived and Very Mistaken.
Do You Think that The God of the Universe, The Creator of The Earth and All that Dwells Therein, Will Allow You to Take Advantage of The Fatherless, Widows, Orphans, and Helpless Forever?
Choose Your Steps Wisely My Friend, For they May Be Your Last.
The God of the Universe Does Not Sleep, And He Does Not Slumber.
He will Not Be Mocked, and Will Defend His People.
So I Ask You to Stop Persecuting My Fellow Jewish, Brothers, Sisters, Mothers, Fathers and Adopted Family Members.
If You Do Not Stop For Your Own Good, and the Good of Your Children’s Children, Then My God Will Come For You, And Will Defend His People Israel.
My God Is a God of Peace, But He Carries A Sword For A Reason.
Do Not Continue to Tempt Him.
His Mercy, Patience, and Tolerance For This Activity Will Not Last Forever.
Sincerely,
Adopted Son of The Family Of Father Abraham, And His Many Descendants.
Author Paul Cumberbatch (May 24th, 2021)
Fish and chips and a pint of dark brew.
Malt vinegar and lashings of salt.
A fish dinner served up
by a truck in a newspaper cone.
That was then, that was before
taste buds got hard boiled,
before the bowtie culture wars.
Pickled onions are now too small
they should have stayed big and brown
something saucy and sour to munch on
while walking around London town.
Peas pudding, jellied eels,
pork pie to tempt our eyes.
Mostly all gone
or not the same.
Shame,
for now we are cosmopolitan
even here in the Midwest
we are upscale in the fine dining fare.
French, Italian, Bolivian, Mongolian,
Mexican and Estonian, it's all good
or can be, but
fish and chips wrapped in newspaper,
nothing better!
Mixing paints and inventing colors,
enticing watercolors' bright hues.
Captivated--one of their lovers,
I sense magic awaits colors' cues.
Paper ready--fresh and inviting.
A splash of lilac on garden wall.
Then, coax shadows to be exciting,
twilight's bluish-red-sienna sprawl.
All colors drawn to dampened papers
that tempt each watercolor to spread.
With juicy brush and colors' capers,
midst their mingle, a painting is bred.
Wait and watch colors find each other,
lilac, aqua, green gently caress.
Suddenly they form a new color!
Magic occurs as they coalesce.
October 10, 2022
for Julia Ward's "Captivation Poetry contest"
Quatrain
Some Glimpses of childhood Memories
The town where I grew up seems much the same
Its many features yet retained
Still central fountain that caresses the sky
Its hazy droplets against the winter dregs of sun
Gone, the regiment of poplars that shaded the green
Gone their sinewy boughs that claimed the bright
And at the head a red bricked hall
That governs and oversees it all
New Morrisons nestles to one side
A steady human trickle to color its doors
I lived at Campers Road where terraced housing still exists
A council house domain when in its prime
I poked sticks in pavement tar with fascination
And wondered about its composition
The chalked insult scrawled upon the path
Removed by soapy water enforced by parent
Written because she rode her bike across our yard
Its final remnants ‘Mrs Knot is a snot’ now fully gone
The same old store stands across the narrow
Where handy for forgotten items to obtain
But gone the candy shop beside
And in its place a show of artefacts to see and buy
No more the jar line up of colored sweets
To tempt wide eyed children into its confines
Across the road a spinney existed
Where entangled undergrowth harbored climbing trees
And in the center the finest enchanted tree
Spread its woody arms in welcoming pose
Sap glistened from its spiral hollows
While light between the parted clouds alighted on its verdant leaves
Now further to brave a walk beyond the hump backed bridge
Where swings abound in a field
And I could see above the clouds
And flee to other worlds afar.
And dream of what was to become
Across the town exists the pits
Where flooded lakes mask dug out holes
And there to while the day by azure blue
To watch the ripples embrace the skeletal crane
Corroded wreck that bore the deluge
Raindrops falling on windowpane
cloudy grey sky with lightning vein
Upon close look, a lilac hue
and tiny pockets found of blue
Rainy days tempt poets to write
of roses in bloom, stars at night;
of golden leaves as Autumn fades,
or shadows found in dappled shades
Dawn that breaks with pure golden skies,
adds crimson touch as a surprise.
deepened sunset paints scarlet hues,
touch of iris in purple-blues.
Nature's watercolor pages
filled with poems for the ages--
words that poets find to capture
nature's most glorious rapture.
Nature
April 1, 2022
form L-LAY New Poetry Contest
by Constance La France
How Many Syllables.com
FIRST PLACE!
Light hearted glimpses into the shadows
Where hues of tenderness
Tempt me to grow with faded philosophies
Beliefs that linger through the intimacy
Of teardrops and grace flowing on the edge
Of sanity, rationality, safety
Feelings erase the mystery of kindness drinking in
Silence and suffering - with reflections of silver
Stars shimmering in the night
As dreams laugh, bouncing off the hopes
Savoring the dew kissed thoughts
Gentling wild desires - with memories afire
Vagabond dreams inspire my soul to drift
Into the rainbow visions of a rich and vibrant
Caress from rain falling - Songs of love calling
This melody of creativity imagining, praying, praising
Wandering through my mind, illuminating the soul’s hunger
The ache for a dream that does more than haunt
Vagabond Dreams Poetry Contest
Sponsored by craig cornish
August 26, 2021
Stiff and tight the pages
of the newly open book
require exertion to freely move and flow.
Long on the shelf it stayed,
yet patiently awaiting
its turn to receive both thought and pen.
Suede like feel to the covers
with embossed messages
to tempt the eye, the mind and hand.
Read on dear friends,
gently turn each page
anticipating a flow of words and poetic verse.
Don't be disappointed, come what may
thoughts and revelations
are displayed of this heart and soul.
Etched among the lines and hidden
in between the words
all is humbly awaiting to be set free
with the hopes of the inner pondering soul
the poet loving, screaming, unwrapping writings
in search of everything believed.
suddenly it was as if someone had put a dark cap on the sky
we went from balmy and breezy with a gentle wind to tornado alley
oak leaves had been dancing and tittering
Now their branches were bending in half
and their maniacal laughter had stopped
our weather turned instantly from frolickingly fun to serious
I ran inside the house to fetch our car keys
Raised the garage doors and parked both cars
My husband was sleeping, he is a shaman
storms put him down as if he had been bundled by his mama
Before those garage doors were down cold hard rain pelted me
It was as if I was being doused with freezing anger
I watched the hail from the windows
Remember the old fashioned 1960 square ice cubes?
They looked like those, only asymmetrical
Thunder warned of further storming
I crawled into bed too
there is no reason to tease this kind of storm
both dogs jumped up and hid their faces in my covers
we live in Kansas; no reason to tempt the wicked witch to come get us