Long Vale Poems
Long Vale Poems. Below are the most popular long Vale by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vale poems by poem length and keyword.
High above in the pristine Colorado sky a majestic eagle wheeled.
'Neath its graceful wings the grandeur of The Garden Of The Gods was revealed!
Awakening flowers nodded to their neighbors prodded by a gentle breeze.
The glorious morning was rife with the soothing drone of honeybees!
The pleasing fragrance of lilac blossoms wafted throughout the park,
And in a nearby stand of aspen trees was heard the trill of a lark.
In a copse across the vale I glimpsed a doe and her newborn fawn.
The resurrection of spring was God's gift to me on this wondrous dawn!
Colorado spruce that a short while ago with garlands of snow were spread,
Now hosted frisky squirrels, gentle doves and rowdy blue jays instead!
A beautiful vixen and her kits peered at me from the seclusion of their lair.
Ah! All of this and fresh mountain air! I'm as rich as a billionaire!
The sunshine brightens the crimson hue of the ancient rock formations.
The Garden Of The Gods was an Indian rendezvous for many generations.
Perched atop one formation is seen a couple of passionate mammals.
With a little imagination you can envision a pair of kissing camels!
Yonder gleams America's Mountain, Pikes Peak, in the rising sun.
Rills and rivulets of melting snow from its summit have begun,
To rush down the mountainside to hasten the rebirth of spring!
You are welcome spring! What joy and beauty to God's earth you bring!
IN THE VORTEX OF TURMOIL
The seamless sky called life glazed in cloudless serenity,
in the rhapsody of the zephyr floated a butterfly free.
On its wings I painted in colors the motif of my identity
for flowers of the valley bloomed in all seasons for me.
The dawning horizon splashed the spectrum of ecstasy,
to blossom budding dreams I was on my course to fly.
Virtual euphoria took me to realm of fathomless fantasy,
I didn’t see clouds gathering at the dark edge of the sky.
Splintered in flickering ambience of tarnished twilight
in the vortex of turmoil I saw debris of my adoring sky
disappear with my dreams in the storm of sulky night.
Demolished, I was sucked in the virulent void of its eye.
The flushing vale turned into tormented pallid wreckage,
destemmed flowers didn’t see the new sun rise in the sky.
Torrent of tear drowned the pleasing past in storm surge,
washed away colors from broken wings of the butterfly.
December 2, 2018
May 17, 2020
Contest : Brian's Choice J
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Across the sky ghostly ashen clouds sail
whilst the dark night tells a tale;
for the world grows cold and very stale,
and the moon wears a dark veil.
October thirty-first, leaves a trail
for All Hallows Eve that never does fail
to make pompous spirits turn pale.
The darkness unleashes a banshee wail,
as all the unearthly creatures trail
of the beaten earth shale.
Their mouth shriek and flail
about searching around the vale.
Witches pass their flask of witch hazel ale;
a special brew they've mixed in a pail,
as they inhale a magical spell and exhale
the roving lethal cocktail.
Jasper, their black cat sits on its tail,
thoughts of wickedness did assail
as it hunger to feast on a blind quail.
The timid garden mouse runs into the deep dale
and hides; he has his own story to tale.
Don't be afraid and tears drop down like hail.
Mummy is here with her own fairy-tale.
10/26/2021
Halloween Monorhyme Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
A lone man come to ponder
in the grieving of a night
why joy had disappeared
with a lady wearing white
Happiness his memory
hoping is pipe-dreams
remembrance a legacy
warming salty streams
Laughter left the lines
that scrawl across his face
now her life has left
a pall lies in its place
Eyes of sightless glass
gazing through a time
hands begin to fumble
tapping with no rhyme
Shaking with a moan
pain streaks into sight
what he would have waged
to see his beloved wife
Leaving him to pine
she left this earthly vale
traveling on ahead
now hes alone and frail
Two Hearts blaze as one
as veils of sadness part
and joy will live again
within this lonely heart
The pampas grasses' tassels start to show
Creamy white against green
Behind the Crepe Myrtle's color
Banked like a sunrise preened
Gray clouds tinged with luminous light
From clear to magenta
A somber morn parenthesized
By stillness; fear enters
Silvery blanket drapes the woods
A foggy damp surrounds
Crickets sing a chipper melody
'Pon the damp, cool ground
Roosters' crows fall flat in the vale
Weighted by the moist air
Birds begin to awake and sing
Songs of love ending fair_
What will this day's purpose reveal?
Good, evil or neutral?
Only God knows ahead the events
Even the unusual
Parallel Lives
Is there such thing as living two separate lives?
I lived in a vale called the “Valley of the cobblers” were everyone
wore wooden clogs, a dead giveaway if you have been out late,
I have many friends there know me by my first name.
Have a homestead rising donkeys of the sturdy, strong type,
also sold miniature donkeys, children especially liked them
I had a man who looked after the animals when I had to return to
city life, but as time passed I came to believe my real life was
in the valley, because I feel like an intruder when I walk amongst
modern man – it could be the clogs- people stare at me
think of me as an abstraction a painting once seen on the wall of a café.
Went on a bus to get back where my friends were, the bus drove and drove
and when it stopped I hadn`t reached my destination.
Have to try again I miss my real life and want to come home.
Sitka’s vibrant euphonious voice,
as alluring as the violin tune,
the musical trail to beauty symphony
of the country north to the future.
Nature there blooms like a flower,
the sunset splendor sequestered.
The twilight rays of golden thread,
the auric frill between trees,
emerald tapestry weaved in Totem Park.
The gilded splash of the ripple rows
on the jade frame of Beaver lake,
the sapphire sky’s mirror in glacial vale.
Mount Edgecumbe, the dormant volcano,
the standing sentinel in lavish landscape
with crimson crown on snow-clad cone.
The northern lights of surreal Sitka dusk,
the living paint on kaleidoscopic canvas,
the captured amazing scene awfully wonderful.
___________
June 5, 2023
I nodded off : in a splendid Light of Glory, Lenore : Came to me
Her Youthful face, Her Wedding Gown; brought back sweet Memories
The transparent White Vale; She wore that day, was not wrapped around Her Eyes
My LOVE forgive me , four years ago, I was robbed aged Yellow Vale : Their prize
I awoke in the mist of Midnight, Computers Smashed ,Vale gone : My Heart still Cries
“My Everything, My Forever ; I look through the portal between Heaven and Earth
March 21st when YOU asked Me to be YOUR Wife: ; for the eons of Eternity “I Do”
“On YOUR Birthday, on MY Birthday, I look upon You, Years to You, Seconds to me
“Still I await Our Entwinement For the Eons of a LIFE FOREVER made in Heaven”
“I see Your Love Has found someone new, Please : Love Her as I LOVE YOU”
“As YOU LOVE ME : for Eternity : for days beyond Tomorrow, I LOVE YOU”
To Be Continued
YOUR Liege, With LOVE ALWAYS and FOREVER…HG (Harry)
DEDICATED TO MY LOVE : BARABARA JEAN GORLICK
Regras Essenciais para Prosperar nas Crises
Mais vale
negociar oralmente
do que por cartas,
e por indicação,
de terceiro
do que sem.
As mensagens
são melhores
quando se deseja
provocar resposta escrita,
ma, quando se quer
obter uma venda
tratar o assunto pessoalmente é bom.
Na escolha dos intermediários,
é melhor optar por pessoas francas,
que farão aquilo de que foram encarregadas,
e que transmitirão fielmente o resultado,
do que escolher pessoas hábeis
em tirar proveito dos negócios alheios.
Escute a Conversa ao Pé da Fogueira de Hoje 21/02/2018 e saberá mais.
Regras de 1570 – Francis Bacon, in 'Ensaios - Das Negociações'
dear poetry,
you take up almost half
of my waking hours.
i read and judge so much of you,
i rarely write my own nowadays,
but I intend to change that.
i pray that you keep
the ink in my pen full and flowing.
i walk hand in hand with you
through this vale of tears.
i often carry you in my backpocket;
nothing can tear us asunder.
you are but a voice
from my heart,
the gift that keeps on giving to me
so that I share with all and sundry.
you're the skeleton key
used by readers to unlock
the door that is me,
the moonbeam piercing through my darkness;
you enrich and rejuvenate me.
i seek refuge in you,
and through you,
i explore myriads of possibilities,
i venture into the terra incognita
and touch an unreachable star,
I muse on people,
beauty,
and art.
I express love, in all its forms,
i travel without movement,
i beat through nature's undergrowth,
i soar the limitless sky
with the mightiest of wings,
i plumb the depths
of profound emotions,
i vividly capture
moments and images,
i express myself freely.
i celebrate life,
its highs, lows and in-betweens.
oh, how much you mean to me!
how therapeutic you are...
with just a pen in my hand,
i reach and touch many a soul,
you've allowed me...
to heal myself
on a blank page;
i owe so much to thee...
thank you, poetry!