Long Unclasped Poems
Long Unclasped Poems. Below are the most popular long Unclasped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unclasped poems by poem length and keyword.
I held the broken pieces tight,
Afraid of what the empty space would bring,
Confusing the shadows for light,
And clinging to a bruised and brittle thing.
I prayed for eyes to truly see,
Then turned away when truth began to speak.
Making excuses, bargaining to be
The anchor for a bond already weak.
How easily the heart defends
The familiar ache of carrying what is gone,
Calling it love when someone bends
The spirit until quiet peace is torn.
Yet mercy worked beneath the grief.
The sudden silence wasn’t cold neglect;
It was a shelter, a swift relief,
A sacred wall the Father did erect.
Not every traveler along the way
Is meant to walk the path where grace resides;
Some doors are closed so we don’t stray,
Some hands unclasped to stem the rising tides.
So now I loosen every plea.
I yield the ache, the wondering, the strain
Trusting God, who rescues me
Who never creates a hollow space in vain.
© Deborah Seale 2026
Transports of hereafter
pass one leaf to unclasped heaps.
Flirty winds rearrange the hedgerow plumage,
wisp in gentle whispers.
Chipping sparrows play hid and seek
with a watery sunlight.
Business is flourishing for the snuffling groundhog.
It’s the narrow part of the day,
a shoaling light ripples where squirrels dart.
A Blue Jay raps his usual rib-digging oldie.
Felicity flutters the loose and drifting:
the soft green carousels of evening,
the pirouette and circumvolve promenading.
Leaf bundles are ransacked by delving voles
but gently.
Seeing all this
I paint the hedgerow again with this eventide wash,
watch it all spun into dusk
from these owl bright eyes.
Their intimacy is gloved,
moments dovetail
in a tea-room.
I color-in implied gestures,
listen to the ambience
of undertones.
They enter a confessional space
lips linger over shared visions,
oracles only they can read.
Lipstick on China cups,
the twirled edge of a napkin,
the unclasped mouth of a purse;
pieces arranged on a white tablecloth
of magnetic intimations.
They are both attractive
yet in different ways,
together they impart
a comforting confidentiality;
bring to this small space
a delicate allurement.
I sense a wry tilt into humor,
a deeper conversation surfaces
as they settle the bill.
Leaving the warmth of the tea house
they kiss
but only lightly upon cheeks,
no flamboyance,
yet the inferred diffidence
is far more telling.
One of them seems to carry
the other's onus of care
sheltering her body from the cold.
I have a brief impulse to follow,
to stay awhile
in their mutual life raft.
These observations I record here,
are moments
to be contemplated only later
with closed eyes.
What later will be filled with squeals
And peals of childish laughter,
In desolation thus reveals
What comes before and after.
The vacant swings, with chains unclasped,
Hang waiting, so forlorn.
The silver slide, unoccupied,
Gleams dully in the morn.
The jungle gyms or monkey bars
Seem bare and incomplete.
They’ll only come alive when tamped
By scores of tiny feet.
The benches, ever patient,
Bide their time, unsatisfied,
‘Til that moment when some sitters
Will enjoy what they provide.
The meat of day will change it all –
The park will thrum with *****;
But in the empty hours
It’s as silent as a monk.
I saw her once on a summer's eve with the breeze softly blowing
She was clad in silken white with her long lush hair freely flowing
She seemed to tiptoe through the air and twinkle as the stars
The garden flowers bowed to her and the moon's glow was large
I did not know if she was real an aberration or trick of mind
But never again in the garden did she appear through time
I dream of her smile and her eyes so blue could they hold a soul
I think of her now and then wondering to me what she bestow
She twirl with grace her arms unfurled and looked me in the face
My heart was capture by her beauty as it begin to race
She wore pearls around her neck so smooth and pure
Playfully she gave her hand and I was so self assured
As I reached out to take her hand she waved it away
And I heard her laughter in the wind as she begin to fade
Was this imagined or true was she spirit or flesh
Too much wine a playful mind a fancy or a wish
But I unclasped my eager hand inside I held a pearl
Bewitched forever was she even from my world
Funny how on rainy days I think of her the most
The rhythm of the rain to her it plays host
I wear her pearl on locket near my heart
For to me this precious being haunting won't depart
How long ago on a summer's eve a beauty supreme
Came to me just a spell and forever lives in my dreams.
I learnt to climb after thou cut the rope...
When ruin claimed the realm of hope;
When silence spoke where vows had been,
And faith lay cold where love was seen.
Thou wert my dawn, my tender creed,
The saint to every mortal need;
Thy smile, a light I deemed divine,
Till truth unmasked that smile of thine.
With trembling trust I gave thee all,
My heart, my soul, to rise or fall;
Yet gentle hands, that once did save,
Unclasped their hold and dug my grave.
I saw thee turn...no tear, no word,
No trembling sigh...my anguish heard;
The rope was severed...swift, complete,
And I fell through air where dreams repeat.
But lo! the fall became my rise,
The pain, my breath...the hurt, my skies;
For in that void, 'twixt grief and flame,
I learnt the measure of my name.
Each scar became a psalm to keep,
Each wound, a vow my soul would reap;
And though thy love was false, untrue,
It taught me strength I never knew.
Now I ascend where angels weep,
Beyond thy reach, where shadows sleep;
The heart thou broke hath found its scope...
I learnt to climb after thou cut the rope.
So rest thee well, thou fickle flame,
Thy ghost is naught but a whispered name;
Thou gav’st me loss, yet through thy art,
I found the power to mend my heart.
“Embrace and Release”
In the quiet of night, I pondered—
the art of severing ties, like pruning a tree.
The weakest links, once tightly bound,
now set free, like a maiden’s unclasped bra.
2024 dawns, a canvas for transformation.
Covid’s grip loosens, and clarity emerges.
Meltdowns yield to focus, tears to savings.
My sex life, like New York’s winter, chills.
Raw verses spill forth, unfiltered and true.
Yet my smile softens toward strangers,
and I find myself liking humanity anew.
Trust remains distant, a horizon to reach.
Biblical tales echo vulnerability—
the weaker devoured by the strong.
Have I surrendered my worth for fleeting moments?
No tears stain my words; they remain silent.
As I gaze upward, pondering thoughts,
my brain’s triad—forebrain, midbrain, hindbrain—
collaborates, yet sometimes drifts apart.
Do I know myself anymore? Today, I listen.
Goodbye, old lover; hello, new friends.
Life’s tides carry me forward,
and I embrace the journey, raw and unafraid.
May vulnerability be my strength, not my undoing.
In twilight's quiet, 'neath the sky's dimmed hue,
Two hearts murmured low, as love's frail seedlings grew.
With every beat, a yearning, in every glance, a tear,
A bond as deep as sorrows, a stream of hope unclear.
In your eyes, a cosmos, stars veiled by somber lace,
In your smile, a longing, a cold and distant place.
With hands unclasped, a journey, through time's vast, mournful sands,
With you, my heart seeks shelter, in love's forsaken lands.
For love is not just spoken, it's felt in every scar,
It's the silent lamentation, the soliloquy of the heart.
So here's my heart's sad sonnet, its verses raw and sheer,
With every line, I miss you, with every word, I fear.
O’ Mother!, take me back at last, receive
—(unclasped arms as vast as mine)—my embrace;
this longing, laughing love, the proof and grace
of my abiding for your shores.—I grieve
the lasting loss that shear struck—do believe
my grave and groveling art of disgrace,—
when ten years had but barely found their place
in my life. As with you then, now I leave
behind the home I’ve called as such awhile,
and answer your unbroken imperative:
anew with you! once more to your sweet heart!
I—through my candid, unshadowed smile—
effervesce—(so this is what it means to live!)
a new part! a chance for a novel start!
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand
Rolling them over and over and over
Leaving this reality behind, far behind...
I know not where I'm headed to,
the sage's advice, my only clue :
"Enlightenment is now in your hands,
take much heed when you let it land..."
One magic rock was crimson blood,
turned fiery hot when it glowed--
I could not help but drop it,
the ground it struck was lit
The flames began to form images,
of war, of humanity enraged,
showed what happened when anger ruled,
when greed turned men to fools
The second rock was pearly white,
turned ice cold when its light died,
my hand stung, and so I let it fall,
rippling the lake, and I was enthralled...
Distorted images came to view,
of moralities askewed,
it chilled my soul to realize
this world has been desensitized
The last rock, alas was bleak and grey,
rough in my hands where it lay...
I wondered what other horrors it had in store,
so I knelt on my knees and prayed to the Lord...
I sought for forgiveness, for times gone astray,
asked for strength and courage, to find the way...
thanked Him for all the blessings I often neglect,
then ended with praises, and a genuflect
I unclasped my hands, the grey rock slipped below
it landed with a soft thud, then it started to glow
It showed me a place where three crosses stood,
then it was clear to me, I fully understood...
The plainest rock was the most precious one,
a silent witness on that fateful day
when the Son's blood was shed, so we can all be saved.
**The first three lines are not my own, but that of Constance La France's...