Long Transpire Poems
Long Transpire Poems. Below are the most popular long Transpire by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Transpire poems by poem length and keyword.
My thoughts I bare center around your love
I climb mountains - I acknowledge trust
Bound to care - the memories on my mind
I am infatuated and I blossom like that of a flower
I blush - when you open those loving arms
In my head - I vision the bud , yet I find
That loving bouquet -I see develops before my eyes
And the garden grows like the beloved feelings , I bare
He listens - he cares about each thought I think
And again my eyes - Love binds with thus a wink
I said , she said - words of wisdom come true to me so wise
I am beauteous - I have a beautiful soul
Your love I see completes me making me whole
I am gifted - I see the light shining down onto me
Then silence! still he wraps his loving self around
My heart it throbs - it pounds - the music plays
I see beauty transpire, I truly remember those days
I sleep ! My dreams in the wild, wild nights
Praise God I met you - in my life it may seem
I boast of fragrance with the aroma of the bud
And thus in my heart , the rose - then too with prose
I meditate! I journal my thoughts with self esteem
And the self love I feel , loving you is so real
At night I blossom with roots of personality
And may the petals on my heart impel me to say
I bless the loyalty of our love , day by day...
Pretty scenes from winter’s ways
Transpire through the days
Snow covered tree tops, slopes, valleys and hills
Dips and drifts like I say, sugar spills
Even the shadows paint pictures across the land
In the slopes of snow, like dunes of sand
Then the wind it puffs and it blows,
Bursts of snow dust in the cold air, it flows
Sparkling, sparkling in the sun
Showing outside to be so much fun…
Chorus:
So yes it is, winter time
Scenes that flow and poems that rhyme
Yes it is, winter’s time to play
In creative ways, each fresh air day
These are the winter times
So join me, yes join me
Take a hold of my hand
And surely we will see…
Pretty scenes will keep unfolding
While your hand, I’ll keep on holding
Brightness will consume your heart
Any darkness there, will depart
Only the shadows with their beauty of art
Will mesmerize you, from the start
Chorus Repeat:
So, yes it is winter time
Scenes that flow and poems that rhyme
Yes it is winter's time to play
In creative ways, each fresh air day
These are the winter times
So join me, yes, join me
Take a hold of my hand
And surely we will see…
Surely, we will see!
Heidi Sands
2/5/22
Heidi Sands
In an Asia city, a new and infamous name began.
“They were called Christians first at Antioch”.*
This species was built upon relationship with its maker; and not disconnection from him.
She fulfilled and bridged the past with the present and all eternity.
Same creator, same designer, and same planer of all species.
For six days He created everything that was made; and then He rested.
Later, there was a world wide deluge; and things were altered; most destroyed.
Generations would transpire before God created a totally new breed of creatures*.
This new species called Christian, was not made from nothing. But being made a new type of human, she would become the new model for all. What a remarkable and revolutionary concept! How different from every human before!!
This species is essentially about loving, not 50/50, but 100% unconditionally.
She’s about giving and not taking; about giving out of love; and not for personal gain.
She finds life through death; she has no room for hate.
No, this new species cannot procreate; but there’s reproduction by proclamation.
She propagates loving God with all the heart; and loving the neighbor as one’s self.
Yes, she’s a new kind of species!
03312016 Acts, Cor. 5:17 (PS Contest,
A New Species, by Anthony Slausen)
I squinted while gazing into the western skies
my attention drawn to banks where willows wept.
Twilight, a melange of magical moments in my eyes,
usually interludes when twilight colors were windswept
just before the juncture where daylight slowly faded
and the reign between sun and moon were traded.
But tonight, "a crimson sky breaks the distant shore."
Appearing low across the horizon as if flames of fire
or a canvas where vermillion paint fills every open pore.
Dusk glows with summer heat as shifts of light transpire.
Silently, the sun sinks, and the transfer of rule unfolds.
Trailing behind are gossamer rays of ambers and golds.
I stumbled last night and today
After a year and 8 months
It started with Chinese cooking wine
It began with the night's emptiness
Wine becomes bad days alone
Beer is weak but fills a belly
Brake all those good days tonight
It isn’t as romantic as I thought
I wanted a proper drink
Giving in to temptation awake
Not like Adam and his apple
The serpent would say finish
Knowledge’s power beckoning
Land of beer and honey
I wanted to swim in my sorrow
I wanted to throw in the dry towel
Anything but watching Netflix
A sanctioned addiction overplayed
A sleep so pure yet sanctimonious
To clink a drink with my sorrows
I wanted a lifeline for today
I remember the year without you
Seeking company in the release
But, that’s an old fantasy revisited
A neuronal spark with no fire
I still have 4 bottles left
I drink in the false morning
Like in the grand old days
Stay dry at least till decency arrives
Tempted again by iteration's hopes
Does it matter if I’m wet or dry?
I should have picked up wine instead
There's more punch in its tannins
Be grateful there’s alcohol in the fridge
Yet, whether the day remains dry or not
The hours with a drink transpire
Wet minds dry slowly as evaporation
If only to be dry as a puddle's remains
Weather the transition scientifically
Rather than take wetness personally
Hop back onto the sobering wagon
Destination health and wellness
Lucid Explanations For Living
Luminous virtuosity that lies dormant all your life
Numerous animosities that combine to form violence and strife
Curious curiosities for the emperors fifth wife
Numerous generosities that involve the back stabbing of a knife
Automatically mistaken for another person by someone you love
Biographically misshapen by the author as the truth is left out to the shove
Colour-graphically laden by the images of heaven from above
Instamatically forsaken by the grapevine from a dove
Elevations of inspiration cascading from the moonlit horizon
Revelations of observation parading bright without the lights on
Celebrations of invocations that serve only to enliven
Collaborations of confirmation that momentum forms only to syphon
Elucidate the concept as you illustrate the notion
Repudiate the precept while you hover above the ocean
Rejuvenate the incept as you maintain the sincerity of your devotion
Recuperate the sunset while you transpire without commotion
By Elizabeth Moroz Copyrifht 2025
So agrophobia,
A most ridiculous phobia,
Illogical impractical and so unreasonable,
The symptoms completely inconceivable,
A fear so irrational like a fear of ones shadow,
Although sciophobia is the fear of ones shadow,
Both more ridiculous than the other what a phobia,
Plagued by a confinement of my mind agrophobia
Agrophobia a fear of leaving my home alone,
I seemed to have lost my mind and backbone,
The very thought of one step outside my front door,
To even consider confuses me to my core,
The fear is so hardcore its impossible to ignore,
Sweating, perspiring, hyperventilating at the open door, Theres a world outside I'm dying to Theres a world out there I want to see and explore,
For god sake I cant even pop round next door,
I have lost the vigour of my mind,
I'm a prisoner held by an intangible fear I'm confined,
My four walls a cozy comforter my pacifier,
A shelter from the danger being in the line of fire,
The verbal gun fire, the glares that seem to transpire,
Amplified whispers with direct pointed gestures
The outdoors a magnified paranoid panoramic picture,
Inclusive of the anxiety of potential social failure,
All to consider if I make it outside the safety of my bunker,
This is just another day in my world of agrophobia.
Thinking Ahead Humor
Miracle Man
November 30th 2023
I’m out of school and now I inquire,
I wonder what life will require?
Will I meet someone that I admire?
If like minded what will transpire?
Can they help me, will they inspire?
I’ll get a job though that seems dire.
One not requiring me to perspire.
To a higher plateau I Will aspire?
I don’t desire to set the world afire.
My one goal is that I don’t expire,
before I have a chance to retire.
I hope my plans don’t go haywire,
But plans I make often backfire.
A man once told me that there is one day each year
that if you sweat, you’ll die, And not knowing what day that was, he took no chances!
Form:
...But his lust for life remained unfulfilled,
’till one day he ran into One-Eyed Bill,
Leader of a group of rough-hewn men,
Grant decided to throw in with them,
They roved the territory, on the prowl,
For ill-gotten gains won by acts foul,
The rush of the hunt, the thrill of the steal,
Doing whatever, whenever you feel,
Made Grant wonder aloud with this phrase,
“Do I really want to settle down someday?”
Until one day when a bank job went wrong,
They were chased by a posse, thirty-strong,
Riding for hours, they found themselves in
The dead-end of a blind, desert canyon,
There the posse closed and opened fire,
A short, lopsided fight did transpire,
Outnumbered five-to-one, impossible odds,
Even for criminals good with a rod,
As Grant fell dying, the sheriff did proclaim:
“We’ll settle those thieves down today!”
Grant was buried there, on that spot,
In a shallow grave covered in rocks,
One day his lover came out all alone,
Carrying with her a small funeral stone.
Said,“I guess I was never to be his wife,
He was too taken by living his fast life.”
Then she placed the stone at his graveside,
Across the front of it she’d had inscribed:
‘Beneath this rock, my sweet Grant does lay,
He has finally settled down this day.”
Silence Listens
In the quietude of a room at night
When all is hushed to stern and strict silence
When the soft chirping of crickets takes flight
When rebounds of the breeze are no hindrance,
A listening silence creeps in around,
A deep quietness invades the surround;
In the serene space where no voice slithers
Silence stretches its soft, sensitive ears
To eavesdrop a desolate folk`s shivers
Gauge the extent of a soul`s inner fears
Listen to pangs of a desolate heart
And try relief and rapture to impart;
The solitary silence of a room,
Seemly spot to delve down the inner self
The seedbed for truth to take root and bloom
A fitting ground to realise oneself,
Lends its kind ears to echoes from the wall
And is a close companion in the fall.
Let the roaring din of the outside world
Entice those who yearn for mundane delight;
For splendid souls who seek serenity
Silence of a room ignites inner light,
Ideal seedbed for enlightenment
And liberation from imprisonment.
Let the ears of silence hear our heartbeats,
Vibrations of our spirit and our soul,
That it may transmit tales of our feats
To the sky where it may wish to unfurl
As silence is the place where we become,
The source from where transpire our sweetest hums.