Long Velvets Poems
Long Velvets Poems. Below are the most popular long Velvets by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Velvets poems by poem length and keyword.
Under a blue moon
He becomes my dream
A secret uncloaked
Emotion unveiled
A mystery revealed
Existence of warmth
between my subconscious
and implicit knowledge
..And it is there
`Neath the soft spot
of this heart
where crimson bleeds
its velvets
upon his bare breath
It is there
where my blushed lips
loose their virginity
Where my fair cheeks
suffuse with rosy glow
It is there where
fiery needs are fulfilled
Fervent desires scorched
Candlelit pleasures beheld
It is there
where alluring visions embrace
my suppressed memory
and take over this barren soul
As his ardent voice calls
in an enticing whisper
and a unique accent
into my left ear
My love...
Mon petite fleur..
Mi amor...
That is a preserved time
An uncloned moment
where my unwholiness
becomes whole
That is the minute
His glancing eyes
capture my own
Only until...
Mr Sandman leaves behind
Dry proposals on wet sand
Early mist envelops the bridge
Aurora glows in new awakening
Last zephyr breeze
fades from my cheek
Then He is gone
Forever gone
A revised repost~Not for the rose contest..but thanks for Vie's Roses contest and wonderful Rose poems
I decided to revise this post and repost,till the muse plays along.
The isle of britian..It shudders and shakes.' All is un-certain.' As up and down go the
Drapes.' The theatre is of shadows and brassy seems the glint.? Of crowns in a recess..And i feel the velvets become now as lint.' The actors and heros, well that cast never has changed..As a bridge stands on
Great columns, any strong country is the
Same, its the people..Who find fortitude if
The times become tough.' Who will stretch
Out and deliver..Even when the cost is too much, then there are some other actors like ' lowe and farage ' a skit on punch and
Judy..And they're playing it large.' old lowe
Is into ' fake meat ' he's invested some cash.' And farage sqealled upon him, mate
They row a spinning barge; of trash.' And the
State.? Well did i tell you? Anyway its locked up ( the truth ) and robinson works for zion..Now hows that for a boost.? Andrews been ' naughty and old mandy too ' I can see a real great upheaval
Its chilling but true, the king into wrong
food.? Maybe thats why he's been sick.? There is rumour of abdication.' Just what will do the trick.? They have bashed up the farmers.' Always a bad move.' Its like a disco? Yet theres no records.' Well they're hoping you'll forget..What else can't
They do.?
.
I found it between freshly cut buttercups
and a cerulean sea
Splashed upon a canvas
of a painter' s fantasy .
I am colour blind , yet since I was a child
I could feel, I could taste, I could hear
I could smell ,all that I couldn't see .
And its green. It is so green to me.
I smell it through the brewing pot
and pouring of a morning Indian tea
I taste its sugar from the maple leaf
And its green , it is so green to me.
I feel its velvets on my neck's nape
from the early buds of Spring
I hear it through the sheep bells
grazing on the hills.
I see it 'neath the harvest moon
when they drink white wine and sing.
I am colour blind , yet since I was a child
I could feel , I could taste, , I could hear
I could smell ,all that I couldn't see,
And its green. It is so green to me.
This colour of serenity
Makes me one with who I am
It is in tales and genesis
of Eve and every man .
This nature where I roam through
Far from envy, wild and free
Far from the climbing ivy
that chokes society.
Between freshly cut buttercups
and a cerulean sea.
Its Splashed upon a canvas
of a painter's fantasy.
Beyond those blues and yellows
Is it green that I can see ?
Its verdant fields I sleep on
wherever I may be
P.S - Inspired by Silent One 's Green (Colours United Contest )
bur not for the contest.
Though I'm not colour blind, this was inspired by
someone close to me who is colourblind to green and brown.
As I lay myself to sleep in the dusk of my heart,the wintry sky still shines
Luna streams its porcelain glow through my bedroom blinds
It pours honeycombed warmth in these almond eyes
And its there that I think of him,a soft sweet descent on my pillow case
a golden tint of firefly's radiance cascading gently upon the velvets of my face
It is there that I ache for him to fall once more
like last fading stars in the desert of my arms
It is there where his fingerprints mark these forgotten lips
and his lavender kiss embraces every inch of my slight curved hips
But when the night is over,like a dewlushed leaf in early breeze
He is swept away...So far far away
So far too gone to utter words I so wanted to say
...And with every breaking dawn tired footsteps lead the path
to the old oak tree which once witnessed our dream
our shared peach,our holding hands,our blissful joy and distant tears
There,in the shade I sit alone but not in solitude
by a mossy stone which owns his name
Secretly I whisper to his soul uspoken thoughts still kept at bay
'My only love,You are gone,but never gone
I might arrive late,but never too late
I feel your absence in my bones like cold air on a rainy day
But tomorrow, Somehow,Somewhere Spring-kissed gardens
bloom fresh blossoms by the promise of today.'
A revised and rewritten oldie...
Inspired by the song -'If tomorrow never comes'
White, green or pink Christmas trees only seen on TVs and snowy countries
Hide and seek within the soft or spiky branches and leaves of religious boundaries.
Your white, red or green clothes that match the snowman's winter chills
Soft as cotton or frozen as candy bar that fills
One at a time a tree grows
Mountain or flat ground where a tree blows
Energy you can feel with your existence
Paying homage to all who've lived with persistence
Embodying growth and resilience
Outlasting obscure and odd ways of living
People from everywhere who never tire of giving.
Lending hands that groom a stronger line
Evergreens that bloom with a story line.
Naked as trees are Christmases
Every tree that gasps for the masses
Voice that sings your favorite lyric
Each word that sheers your beauty so angelic.
Running on streams so red under your skin tone so majestic.
Beliefs that trees come and go
Each leaf that sticks and falls like a Lego.
Life in every tree that stands
In your eyes you don't see, but lands.
Every step you make, moving around
Velvets you wear or used clothes that sound
Every detail spoken in different patois astound.
In every tree or home where Christmas may not reside
Natural or never watered, arises aside
"Christmas" is the word that will always stand
Holiday above all, unspoken or uncelebrated that spanned.
Resonating merry from branches and leaves in qi
Iron-made or wood or plastic of modern ki.
"Santa" not everyone believed was real
Tripping and awarding people of all ages with gifts and meal.
Mistletoes on doors that knock each day
All day telling you that Christmas is everyday.
Savor the sweetness of the Yuletide...
Christmas you may not know, but lingers
in your mind!
I never saw your writing
against the silent wall
I never heard those footsteps
walking to the door.
Like a sunset shadow
you faded in the dusk
Hanging upon my door knob
Just your venetian mask
A mask with many faces
and unforgotten past
A thousand million secrets
Questions never asked.
No please, don't go reminding me
of a time before
Of merry wistful moments
this spirit won't recall
The stonehenged shrine of my heart
is over six feet tall.
Through cracks, light filters in
but the wall resists to fall.
No please,don't go reminding me
Of a time before
Of merry wistful moments
this spirit won't recall.
Was there ever a vision
with the beauty of your eyes
Was there ever a fire
with the embers of our nights
Was there ever a sweet warmth
where velvets bled their rose
Was there ever a sea-shore
where these fingers brushed your toes.
Was there ever a tree-trunk
where stars carved our dream
Was there ever a stream-walk
where our lips weren't sealed
No please,don't go reminding me
of a time before
Of merry wistful moments
that now I don't recall
The stonehenged shrine of my heart
is over six feet tall
I never saw your writing
against the silent wall.
Just a lyric poem inspired by music.
The Bowman's Shaft
Solo archer gathers mist of amour clouds, dipping venturous arrow tips in a veiled concocted potion, drowning its mettle in a whimsical bliss of a dreamt liquefied mirage that defines the elixir,
Cupids errant arrow is liberated openly o'er the arc of a rainbow, exuberantly hunting its e'er sought Terra, whereto, it scarcely flutters passed feathered twain turtledoves,
Trifle off-track as projected, titillating a canine whose tail waggles unceasingly as its tongue laps remarkable welcoming faces,
Then piercingly redefines a right-angle course, that mids passionately, a well-managed bramble with shoots flowering in vivid red velvets,
Calculably sailing o'er gray-haired couple, whose one hand hugging canes and their free hands locking each other,
Promised target a fused-kissed envelope proffering treasured eloquence of, Missing You, in numerous expressions, introducing assorted confidences perceived by yearning intrepid bluish eyes whose heart grows e'er fonder.
2019 November 04
*2nd Place*
Metaphor of Love
~~Bobby May
Too many cold nights
would follow these hours
FIrst frost will destroy
the blooming moonflowers
Because,WInter goes and WInter comes
Snowflakes melt our paper hearts
I want to preserve moments
before they' ll be the past
I just want to hold you
and make each second last
I want to taste your sweet words
breathing velvets on my lips
I want to feel your kisses
treading softly on my hips
I need to hear your lyrics
whispered in my ear
I want to let my hair down
cascading on your tear
I want to beg for your love
Be fondled by your touch
Want you to give me butterflies
Tickle and make me blush
I don' t want to make memories
But you won't be here
One day I'd call your name
pretending you're still there
Too many cold nights
would follow these hours
FIrst frost will destroy
the blooming moonflowers
Because,WInter goes and WInter comes
Snowflakes melt our paper hearts
Wet rain will cover palm prints
in the forgotten sand
New fingers trace your laugh lines
where I no longer stand
Stars wouldn't recall our waltz dance
and places that we've been
They won't remember falling
in once upon a dream
In times encrypted on the membrane of the universe, beneath the cold veil of unknown realities,
Humanity, with eyes welled with tears of questions, will gradually unravel the mystery from symbols.
A thick curtain of incomprehensibility will disperse, like fog on the lakes at sunrise,
And in the embrace of weeping mornings, the truth will shine, once concealed, now serene.
In this vibrant tableau, our conviction will struggle like a silver fish in an unyielding ocean,
Allowing us to understand that, since the creation of the world, the truth has been a wandering star,
Inseparable from hidden destiny, on our inner sky, traversed by nameless ships,
Ever gazing towards the pole of the wise Abstract, where those Lords of the Dawn wander, silent and rare.
They have always been among us, like the wind carrying pollen in the depth of spring,
An order without pomp, caressing weary foreheads and igniting the holy flame in hearts;
Whispering in the language of eternal secrets, watching like guardians hidden in ancestral times,
Destined to find our way back to the lost consciousness, through thicket of dreams and hopes.
They, the few but growing like an old forest of green stars in the night of the soul,
Open the gate to the kingdom where all is known, yet nothing is spoken.
On that day, our hearts will sing symphonies of light, glowing through the morning dew,
Reconciling the world with the divine, in an eternal embrace of the soul with those dreamt realms.
Thus, the human race, on a clear white day, when all symbols will take word and shape,
Will cross the threshold between worlds, with meaningful and dancing steps,
Freeing themselves from the heavy velvets of the unfathomable in a moment of self-discovery,
Rebirth from the ashes of time, understanding paved with the sparkling diamonds of knowledge.
In that magic and melancholic moment, when the veil will fall and eyes will see,
Every pixel of life will gain intensity and color, redefining our eternity,
We, a certain small number of souls who wander through grasses misunderstood,
Will be the counselors of the coming days, the keepers of the flame in the temple of relearning divinity.
Early rain falls gently
like his fingers running softly
through her tousled hair
The wind breathes lightly
like his lips treading velvets
on her cheek,along her neck
and across her peach-creamed skin so fair
She dances,she sings
by the cabin down the valley
She feeds little birds
and keeps on humming merrily
Pansies sway in silence
as she walks down the lane
She strolls over the bridge
then cross it back again
She watches the Tuscan sun
set down beyond the prarie
She lays in verdant fields
and dreams of the lost fairy
With noisette eyes so full of love
She follows fluttering wings
of tiny fire-flies
which glisten in night sky
like little lantern lights
Through fragrant vine-yards She runs
and tastes blushed-scents of wine
She journeys through distance
through moments,n memory of time
She holds on to a star
to the edge of glowing moons
She reaches the oasis
beyond the desert dunes
She reaches to the dark woods
to the still sound of his cry
She let hm see her magic
where freedom's kite soar high
She enters in the universe
of his thoughts soft 'tender part
to the cascading passion
in the alley of his heart