Long Trove Poems
Long Trove Poems. Below are the most popular long Trove by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trove poems by poem length and keyword.
Neck a smooth, cylindrical mold
As sheathe with fibers carefully rolled
Pale, satin sheen artfully scrolled
Grace on soft, silky strands doled
In light, silted hologram to behold
Calamus breathes through each fold
Herbal essence from tight pores cajoled
Swabbed cheeks cloud high cheek bone
Naturally brushed with light coppertone
Puffy mounds rise from savory scone
Cherry gum drops brim o'er mascarpone
Cherubic glow of a polished sandstone
Exuding savory Rose scent laced with pheromone
Nature's stimulants, a nurtured love to hone
Bosom, gilded vines on terraced grove
Sprouting cherries, fertile arrow of Jove
Dangling from chest sealing frothy trove
Coarse sifted mounds, plump kneaded loaves
Descending into a deep, musky cove
U-shaped funnel vents steaming stove
Releasing mellow aroma of a sweet clove
Hydroplaning in a Squall
East Horizon Looming Black,
Boiling Roiling All A'Full,
Threatens to Upset & Impact,
Boring Calm Hours Dull,
Most Seek Safe Compact,
But We Launch Our Hull,
Reefing Boom Sail Fabric,
Up & Away to the Full!
Fire Red One-Design Mobjack,
Broad Reaching Downwind,
Scaling Cascading Wave's Stack,
Shaking Bottom Vibration Akin,
To Snare Staccato Click Clack,
Spine Shivers Through Skin,
Like Galloping on the Back,
Riding a Race Stallion Arabian!
White Angry Frothing Waves,
Don't Capsize, As the Boat's Above,
Humming, the Mobjack Craves,
To Soar as Might a Seagull Love,
Screaming Planing Embraves,
Sailing in Full When Like a Glove,
Squalls Challenge Bold Knaves,
To Fit Finger like Masts to a Trove,
Of Freedom for All Daring Slaves!
I give you time, that white wizard,
Noble and eternal in its incomprehensible march of seasons,
Not just any time, but time to triumph, to laugh, to ascend,
Time cut from the magic hourglass to savor the endless moment's fragrance.
I string on a thread of celestial moments, time for thought and reverie,
Time to sculpt from the dough of days works of soul and mind,
Time that is not just yours, but a gift you offer,
A rare emerald in the palm of one who waits, still unknowing.
I give you time, not to run in the mad rush of the world,
But to dance in the whirl of joy, in the laughter of true merriment,
I gift you seconds, strung like pearls on a string, not to be spent,
But to be held close to your chest like a fallen starling in your nocturnal garden.
I show you time to inquire and trust, without seeing the hour as a foe,
I gift you hours to contemplate the cosmos, to grow, to emerge as the person you become,
Time scented with hope and seconds to love unreservedly,
A treasure trove of moments, to find yourself even when lost, each day in a realm of seeking happiness.
I lay in your open palm time to forgive, to cast off heavy regrets,
I bestow it not just upon desire but intertwined with chance and dream,
I offer you... oh, I offer you so much, more than just time,
But the very chance, unique and pure, to embrace life.
Zealousness prevails to amass knowledge
lifequest nsync toward expansive lexicon
extant since yours truly kneehigh toddler
inquisitive mind fired passion to steep me
within inexhaustible voluminous treasure
trove housing increasing bound knowledge
inexplicable to thyself, wherefore heartfelt
ineradicable passion to sequester attention
between newpages of selective genres for
hours experiencing intellectual ecstatic née
orgasmic excitation sustains purposefulness
as explains escapist redoubt within mental
framework, thee singularly soulful asylum
offering me cerebral satiation, sedation, and
solution to cope with unbearable millstone
linkedin with emotional/psychological pain
wrought courtesy neurological mutation all
throughout tender years, when one doth seek
natural predilections in tandem toward naked
lunch (heady salad days lettuce not go there),
quite the contrary this socially malnourished
individual burrowed within reading material
even now tickles fancy of mine johnny come
lately body electric exploring, crafting, and
allowing milieu writing to pacify, gratify and
codify mindset never entertaining delusions
of grandeur hypothetically envisioning to
discover friendship (even platonic) regard-
ding another, who exudes similar love with
words, though accepting fickle human nature
at most hope flickr of ephemeral pinterest
maintains attention of anonymous reader
rabbit nibbles morsel of recondite tidbit, and
synchronizing ever so briefly with logophile,
whose aura, charisma, dogma, karma, persona...
hoopfully nets/ brings even ad hoc “FAKE” smile
courtesy buzzfeeding lapsed adulterer,
whose prickly propensities
no longer promulgated –
illicit flagrante delicto behaviour condemned
nearly plunging papa into divorce court.
“The lyric of dreams on lost love is overwhelming”- By Poet
I breathe poetry of ebullient emotion,
the designer of dreams,
search for the sense of frosted feelings,
as they mingle with my twilight time,
my mind merges with sensual obscurity,
with the instant impulses ingrained.
The crystal path I pave to the realm of retreat
along the contorted contours of deserted desire.
There the roses bloom amidst the spiculed cactus,
within enshrined imagination entrained,
that takes me with the mirage to the oasis of reverie,
with dismantled desolation.
From the splendor sprouts the foliage of fervor,
the canopy soaks the colors of the new sky
like the creative poet’s flourishing heart.
As the twilight sequesters sonorous silence
in the treasure-trove of static time,
the poetry of life flows flamboyant
under the star studded sky
with the sequined fluid passion.
As the mesmeric moonbeam sprinkles silver dust,
my muse drifts across the mindscape
to the mesmerized meadow of dreams.
With the tinsels of emerald longing
it flies in your fervent firmament
on the wings of lyrical zephyr,
entrances me with the rhyme of reminiscence,
makes me breathless with nostalgia as I recite
the poems I write for you.
After working day long, was relaxing mind and soul With a beautiful song.
gazing around,my eyes caught the glimpse Of a bright colored book.
It was my diary ,a vault of wonderful memories Of good and bad.
Sweet music was being played in the heart,when i saw one unfinished poem looking
Sadly at me,saying ,give me a beautiful ending.
A poem,which is treasure trove of unsaid feelings ,but still hold so strong in the heart.
The poem got its beautiful end,and feelings still linger in the heart,even when the
person goes away from us.
Its not that feelings are dead and Heart had dried up,they blossom like a flower
every time whenever they Cross our minds and make us relish those wonderful moments.
Tears rolled down my cheeks Of content and happiness.
Tranquil twilight tuned in a mellifluous brevity,
Silver stars appeared, twinkling, forming constellations bright,
And nightingales sang to honour our memorable night,
As we lay serene. the fine sand willing our destiny.
Blessed indeed were we to find such a peaceful sandy cove
I looked into her eyes and saw how they reflected stars.
No doubt as years roll, the view still will be in my memoirs,
Indeed, it was just our fortune to find that treasured trove.
Lovingly, a soft kiss was like a rimming nightly breeze,
The palm trees swished to the cool brisk zephyr murmuring low,
While the cacophony of cicadas gave us their show,
That flowed gently o'er silvery waves of calm coral seas.
The quiet moon shone bright as it ascended in the sky
We jumped into the sea surrounded with coral glowing
The moonlight glistened as fish swam in shoals over-flowing.
Alas it was time to leave as we uttered a deep sigh.
Up we climbed our small yacht and went to have our well-earned rest,
The gentle soft waves rocked us to a deep refreshing sleep,
Unaware of bright coral or tropical fish beneath,
We had our wonderful honeymoon the ultimate best.
10 May 2021
Writing Prompt - Calm - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Placed 1
14 syllables per line
Zealousness prevails to amass knowledge
lifequest nsync toward expansive lexicon
extant since yours truly kneehigh toddler
inquisitive mind fired passion to steep me
within inexhaustible voluminous treasure
trove housing increasing bound knowledge
inexplicable to thyself, wherefore heartfelt
ineradicable passion to sequester attention
between newpages of selective genres for
hours experiencing intellectual ecstatic nee
orgasmic excitation sustains purposefulness
as explains escapist redoubt within mental
framework, thee singularly soulful asylum
offering me cerebral satiation, sedation, and
solution to cope with unbearable millstone
linkedin with emotional/psychological pain
wrought courtesy neurological mutation all
throughout tender years, when one doth seek
natural predilections in tandem toward naked
lunch (heady salad days lettuce not go there),
quite the contrary this socially malnourished
individual burrowed within reading material
even now tickles fancy of mine johnny come
lately body electric exploring, crafting, and
allowing milieu writing to pacify, gratify and
codify mindset never entertaining delusions
of grandeur (hypothetically envisioning to
discover friendship (even platonic) regard-
ding another, who exudes similar love with
words, though accepting fickle human nature
at most hope flickr of ephemeral pinterest
maintains attention of anonymous reader
rabbit nibbles morsel of recondite tidbit, and
synchronizing ever so briefly with logophile,
whose aura, charisma, dogma, karma, persona...
hoopfully brings even an ad hoc “FAKE” smile.
There are some things in life
That you never forget
Buried deep down in your soul
Your very first kiss
Your first two wheel bike
The very first cookie you stole
Nothing quite compares
To a lifetime of memories
A treasure trove to cherish forever
Your sixty-five Corvette
With a 350 engine
Feelings never equaled ever
Nostalgic these memories
When the world was brand new
Your life was just waiting to be lived
Experiencing new things
Exciting new adventures
You've got so much giving to give
May think my time's come
To throw in the towel
Plan to still be around for a while
Got stuff to explore
Lotsa places to see
Still wide-eyed and eager like a child
© Jack Ellison 2013
In the quiet attic's embrace, where dust motes dance,
A brittle paper whispers, in the dim and silent trance.
Yellowed with the passage of a thousand days and nights,
It cradles laughter, and captures faded lights.
A child's bright eyes, a spark of life's grand flame,
A mischievous grin, where innocence laid claim.
Lost in a world where time stood still, unprimed,
A youthful gleam, in the album of the mind.
A couple's embrace, a love untold, unseen,
In sepia hues, their tender story's gleaned.
A touch, a glance, a moment's sweet refrain,
Their untold love, in the heart, forever remains.
The attic, a treasure trove, a chest of days,
Faces and places, in the softest of displays.
Each creased corner, a memory's stubborn hold,
Moments cherished, stories yet untold.
The sepia tones, a canvas of the past,
A glimpse of yesterday, in the light it cast.
These silent witnesses, under time's gentle hand,
Echo the laughter, the sorrow, the love that spanned.
Through faded smiles and faces of the unknown,
Past lives are glimpsed, and their tales are sown.
In these old photographs, time takes its stand,
A bridge to the past, with stories grand.
The brittle paper, with its yellowed sheen,
Guards the ghosts of joy, of the serene.
A youthful gleam, a dream once lost,
In the attic's heart, where time is not the boss.
For in each capture, a soul does live,
A moment's breath, that time cannot take.
A forgotten dream, now reawakened,
In the silent attic, where the old is newly faked.