Long Vales Poems
Long Vales Poems. Below are the most popular long Vales by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vales poems by poem length and keyword.
I preached to my flock, "you voted them in
"The knaves and fools who did freedom in.
"I know a new place to settle upon
The hills and the vales of Avalon."
"We'll take a stout fleet, built for you all
We'll leave our mistakes; we'll stand again tall
It's a magical place, where wishes come true
There's no other choice, no more we can do."
"You've took rights for granted, now you grieve
Come to the island, you won't want to leave
The stars will be silver, the moon will be gold
The veil will be lifted; the magic take hold."
We sailed out of Boston, and out of Maine
Took cover in the clouds, hid in the rain
Then we saw it, rising from the sea
A green pleasant land, where men still were free.
But a man rowed out in a hollowed kayak
He got close to my sailboat, shouted "turn back".
He spoke to me; his stern face made me shiver:
"Don't promise what you cannot deliver."
I said "we have nowhere to go, freedom fell
"If we must storm, we'll storm gates of hell
"We take our chances in your bay by the sea
"We've paid our dues; we want to be free."
Over the velvet land was a misty veil
We tried to move forward, but to no avail
A force pushed us back, from that life-raft land:
The wind had become an invisible hand.
Some of us made it back to a blood red dawn
We lost the dream of emerald Avalon
Almost made it, almost found a new start
So close, so far, the pain lasts in my heart.
Is it a reverie or a true slice of life?
Have I landed in Arcadia or an earthly paradise?
All seems so magical, eyes refusing to believe.
Am I dreaming or do I simply fantasize?
I see everything clothed in glistening sheen.
Around me, all I see is beauty and grandeur.
Heaven seems to have come down to earth.
The sky and the Earth, draped in great splendour.
Covered in a cloak of sparkling dewdrops,
The verdant leaves seem studded with emerald gems.
Glittering in warm sunshine, they look so gorgeous,
Amid them, flowers dance on delicate stems.
Bees fly humming in subdued tone,
Teasing even the weeds that wear a flower.
The bunnies feeling the breath of May,
Nibble at tender grass, so eager it to devour.
All about me is liquid silver’s dazzling glow,
With eddy swirls and falling beams.
Above me is the vast panorama of the sky,
With chiffon clouds straying far into the seams.
The boughs of trees droop with blossom’s weight
Leaves tremble in the might of passing gales.
Tickling rills and somersaulting cataracts
Give a heavenly dimension to half lit vales.
The meadows are dotted with violets and bluebells.
Also, clusters of flowers that never seem to fade.
Lovely birds are heard singing from every bush and tree.
Golden sunbeams play, filtering through the shade.
No doubt, this place is closer to Coleridge’s Xanadu
Far off from world’s sick hurry, this seems a heavenly sphere.
Anyone who lands in this ‘Elysian Field' will loudly exclaim,
‘If there is a Paradise on Earth. it’s here, it’s here’!
That I could soar and glide effortlessly
o'er snow-capped colossal mountains,
watch my visionary dreams pile up and up,
contemplate the winding harrowing paths
that led to chilly but charming cascades,
with their aquatic pleasures, all exquisite bliss.
How my exuberant heart would delightfully sigh
like a whispering zigzagging mountain breeze!
Would it lose its rhythmic beat, as it grows taut with desire?
Its moans echo among the vales and crevices,
while meadows are covered with yellowish narcissus
all fanning fragrant and sweet perfumes.
So I sat still and contemplate the beauty of life.
Placed 1
3 February 2023
Writing Challenge - C Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
There's an obscurity on the threads of darkness
dare I peer beneath the starless shroud of midnight's veil
as I walk through the misty breath that beclouds my vision
in hopes it leads me to the temple of your soul? My dearest
my comfort is there, yet I feel a quivering in the flames
beneath these gusts that prevail through inaudible voices falling
winded in the distance where these shadows walk between us
I feel discernment in memories as these bony fingers reach out
my heart shudders beneath the orchestra of night as it beckons
a samba from the angel of death as it spans its wings before me
I shiver breathless in its cold as the flames grow dimmer
yet this time love, I fear for you as dissolution ascends above me
Muddled mind ventures through vivid vales of scepticism.
Slowly subsiding to my knees under the shadow of moonlight,
crows gathers as helpless hands clench decomposing soil.
Sapless lips gasp for oxygen, shivering in illusory mistiness.
Death's harbinger stands before me, an uninvited hooded eclipse,
holding me prisoner, strangling my soul with naked tree tendrils.
In silent steps he walks towards me, I have no will left to fight.
He has no mercy, content on me kissing the mouth of the earth.
Words hidden behind metaphors, surface upon shores of regret,
flashbacks are like daggers, reminders of unspoken, unwritten words.
My love mourn for me not, as I fall into the graveyards of poets,
in death we still connect, as my words will always live through you.
A Collaboration with Silent One~
There, beyond the garden wall,
are fronds of grass and weeds grown tall
A wild rose pleads for a breath of sun
just like a child who needs some fun
A greedy shade has kept her shunned
She is watered, fed, by pearls of dew
hidden by the scattered hues
of red, and green, and swirling blues
where no one has seen, her beauty, true
While blushing pale, of velvet blooms
she fills the vales and afternoon
with fragrant gifts, that lift the gloom
She shifts and winds her tendrils loom
to trail her vines with sweet perfumes
prevailing through the twilight, soon
She's has lost her petals one by one
Tossed by evening's billowing tease
They land beneath the willow trees,
which band together, if to please
the sun that gathers with the breeze
in carpet for the birds and bees
________________________________________________
1/21/15 For the contest: Interlocking Rhyme
Sponsored by Isaiah
It is thy wanton gestures that contrive inside long auburn
curls -
Wherefore to diminish the pleas of a warm, lustful
breeze!
For though gilded rays shall grace all thy sunlit days
Tis Moonstrucks cast beams, your mischiefs,
That did so deceive.
Happily ye wander through Midnights velvet vales...
Thus to bathe in the still of deep glades shimmering pools;
Gently smile as the White Hart confuses at the Nightjar,
Laugh joyfully as he gleefully barks within a Huntresses
muse.
Whence, entwining abouts your lithe-liken limbs,
Enchanting currents that confound upon like curvaceous
streams:-
Flawlessly proportioned, highbred, temperate form
Of palest earthborn Athenian figurine.
And ere those coy sighs should but just once countenance
Mortal compromise
Through your countless ages of fair queens and fabled kings -
Then, at some singular point in trickling sands spatial time,
If my heart beat against thine...wouldst thy charge me astride
Great Pegasusus wings?
So recline thou, betwixt sharp earth and Heavens eternal
skies,
Thoust art serenaded by forlorn winds that forsakenly
Beseech upon your divine name -
For the raging fires of burning stars were lit to blaze
In thine eyes
By thee fearful architect who moulded immortal clay
To thy perfectly sculptured frame!
Brecon Beacons
for pony-treks
Cumbrian fells
& bubbling becks
Dartmoor
with rocks rain scarred
Lake District views
beloved of bards
Northumbria on moor & hill
where Roman echoes linger still
Stone-bridged hamlets
in the Dales
with enclosed leas along its vales
Snowdonia one thousand yards high
reached by slow trains up to the sky
Pembroke with its distant trail so long
heritages for us to protect & prolong
National treasures to preserve & enjoy
by rich,the famous &hoi poloi.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007
Brandishing the lightning lance, the sun arrives,
The mighty, majestic monarch of the day.
Kissing the mouldy mountain rows, he comes
Banishing mist and frost from night’s blotched brow.
In what rich ruby ring of radiance, he appears
Smearing and splotching liquid gold, he gracefully moves
With sparkling splashes, the world becomes bright
The prompt and punctual rooster raises his raucous revelry.
Birds and beasts wake up from their slumberous sleep.
The feathered folks tweet and twitter in harmonious notes.
The verdant vales below send up a welcoming sign.
The leaves stay bright tipped with dainty droplets of dew.
Morn, the bashful, mousy maiden with modest grace,
Peeps and peeks through half drawn curtains in the East.
Removing all trace of a tarnished yesterday,
The day arrives making me smile in burgeoning bliss.
Winged Steeds of Mist
Out in the vales of freedom,
of rippled hills and plunging canyons,
there is nought but wind
to carve through the wild horse
Light mane, nostrils flared,
veins like sacred rivers;
heart with a hawk spirit
flight strikes music from
bright pinioned hooves
Coats of shimmering autumn,
pied shadows, blinding snow
Time and mist have scribbled fear
into the sinews
Winged at the first breaking
sounds of intrusion
fear of capture awakens a scream
far older than the sound it emits
escape,escape
pound,strive, wild horse
snort fire and acquire
the secret of flying
“When I felt lonely and betrayed, God’s words, ‘Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God’ fell into my ears as a soothing zephyr” By Poet
Night fades away slow and steady,
As the sun makes his triumphant entry.
Zephyr wind comes to caress me,
Mischievously tangling my hair.
I feel her breath upon my whole body,
On my cheeks, in my hair and on my face.
She comes like a magical genie,
Somewhere from a hidden covert.
She comes on unfurled feathery wings.
Her arrival gives such a calming feel.
Sometimes she blows with wild abandon.
With no physical form, she is an invisible spirit,
An unshackled flow of current.
If we try to harness her,
She will slip out of control.
She is subtle with power.
All I can feel is her soft touch,
And all I hear is her soft susurration
As she passes along vales and dales.
She dances among the leaves of trees
Sings to flowers, beasts and birds
Makes them pulsate with life
Gives them their resonant song
She curls the still waters into silvery folds
Croft and fields await her presence
She makes the hot day sweet and balmy
She is warmly welcomed in scorched lands
But she won’t stay long to cheer our frayed nerves
She seems to belong to the gypsy tribe,
Never pitching her tent in a place to belong.
From far I hear the fluting song of reeds,
Suggesting she has withdrawn from my presence.
She is like the spirit of liberty, wild and free.
None can fetter her with a rope or string.
Oh Zephyr, so breezy, lovely and cool
Of all the winds, I love you the most.