Long Violets Poems
Long Violets Poems. Below are the most popular long Violets by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Violets poems by poem length and keyword.
When crimsons are worn and winters mourn;
When time is not a clock, watch or real
And sunsets have lost their appeal -
Then I shall face my doom,
But wake me not before noon.
When you can stretch out your hand
And come with me to a nowhere land,
I will put violets in your hair.
When you can sigh with no despair,
Then I shall believe you rare.
When I stand alone and you go away
Do not dare come ask me to play.
When tomorrow is not neglected, and
finally arrives and someday is a day called now,
then you shall see relief in mine eyes.
When all words care and mountains rise higher,
When trees can breathe and apples are truly red,
Then I shall stop yelling above your head.
When flowers fail to bloom and seven years does
not mean locust, maybe then life shall focus.
When I can find my very own star
Without the need of looking far,
When I lose my urge to splurge and neglect
My search for a still burning torch,
What then .... if when?
Have you ever been so lucky as to have seen
in the middle of the night
a kaleidoscope of butterflies? How beautiful the sight
of violets, blues, black on white
and the royal monarch’s hues.
If you should be so fortunate,
please go outside and let yourself believe
there’s music in the air as the rabble flutters.
Notice that the butterflies are dancing.
The moonbeams shining on them
can create a melody of sweet tranquility.
Listen very carefully; you can hear it.
Fling yourself into the night and join the throng.
If you let your imagination soar,
you too can be a butterfly twirling and swirling
in the middle of the night
when the butterflies dance to the moon’s song.
A paradise of natural nature bouquets displayed:
of yellow, orange, pink, red roses of redolent scented phase.
Lilies, tulips, daisies, daffodils and violets are of bountiful blooms
All these have enchanted scents of fresh fragrant perfumes cues;
bringing love interludes.
On the countryside, new scents of morning-glory flowers are new:
wildflowers are there with colorful shades and hues.
By a home flower orchids, geraniums and marigolds do soothe.
Pinned are carnations at shoulder height level views.
Rhododendron and impatiens of the color purple do muse.
Bowing down their heads are of yellow and white sunflowers to you.
Their seeds are a delightful protein fuel.
Azalea, buttercups, mums, lilacs; soften the mood.
Springtime, summertime and fall-time
has botanical flower gardens with gala venues.
Flowers and bees intertwine to produce pure delicious honey.
Flowers for us are an in-depth botany study.
A local natural land treasury of perennials and annuals do resume.
Dried flowers are preserved as a uniquely lovely tribute.
These are to have for five to seven lasting enjoyable years, to share.
A Green thumb is awarded to the most flowery flower gardens here.
Purposely pluck pretty prickly prime red roses and white lilies for a vase: and then give them to a pretentious precocious loved member.
This a loving memory that will last in everyone heart story.
These are of the "lively lovely flowers in prom,"
Those in one's hands and on upon all lands.
Yet, of all of these: they are but a small reflection of the true, prettiest flower of them all.
The "Rose of Sharon," this who is Jesus, the Christ, the Lovely Lord. The creator of all flowers of whom, I do most admire and adore.
A butterfly you float in my garden at sunset,
Amber silents, daylight violets.
From behind the shroud of hesitant mind’s layers
Custom stares.
Through the surging gale flapping your wings’ flair
Love comes here,
Proclaiming the tenet that unveils the truth…
Love is where there is caring faith.
Driven by the divine desire I try to embrace
Loves committed grace.
Time opens the door to providence creating there
A chance we come together,
Until then I build the poetic image of you all the time
Writing this love letter, caressing rhymes,
Composing a classic love poem of beauty prime
For all times.
When time comes I shall ask in voice you haven’t heard…
Shall we write together “letters” and “words”,
That will close the distance between us, I’ll tell you why
O love of love lets us write nigh.
My mind drowned in distress I say don’t you wait,
Come write with me, cavalry so lets elaborate.
The rhythm coveys the cadence of our hearts in spate,
Shall we, yes we will collaborate…
Sailing on the sound of silence you come, I won’t forget
Amber silents, daylight violets.
From the back of my mind that so ardently cares
Custom stares.
While I feel from the patina of the rainbow colors
Love comes here,
I realize when my heart with yours I swathe,
Love is where there is caring faith.
We drown in the seraphic golden dusts that lace
Loves committed grace.
It’s destiny, the will of God, and can’t be ever
A chance we come together.
The muse in me starts as the bell of longing chimes,
Writing this love letter, caressing rhymes,
To resonate with amorous tunes of my passion prime
For all times.
I’ll ask when we turn into romantic bards…
Shall we write together “letters” and “words”.
On the page of togetherness our hearts shall lie,
O love of love lets us write nigh.
We have suffered silently in the hands of fate,
Come write with me, cavalry so lets elaborate.
Let the epic of love the entwined hearts create,
Shall we, yes we will collaborate…
September 5, 2019
Contest : Let Us Collaborate A Love Verse
Sponsor : James Edward Lee Sr.
Lines of sponsor's poem typed bold.
I set up my canvas, pick up my brush, and begin to paint.
I start with a lot of blue, then move on to some green.
As I’m putting touches of color in everything so faint,
Even leaves in the trees are like nothing I’ve ever seen.
I paint deserts of brown and fields of yellow flowers.
On the tallest mountains I’ll use white for the snow.
This is tougher that I thought, taking hours upon hours,
Creating everything, using all the colors of the rainbow.
I must use black for the depths of the oceans.
Maybe pink for cherry blossoms when they bloom.
I have such wonderful ideas and interesting notions.
My canvas is huge and I have more than enough room.
Now, onto red for roses to grow every spring,
And the violets so purple, a color that I love.
I’ll make sunsets orange, such beauty they’ll bring,
And maybe a light, pale blue for the skies above.
I’ve don’t me best to cover it from end to end.
It’s such a large canvas, a thing of such girth.
I hope it’s enjoyed; it’ll be such an art to defend.
It only took my six days; I think I’ll call it…Earth.
It was just a tiny scrap of paper that I found lying on the floor.
Who would leave a note for me, quietly slipped beneath the door?
A parchment of mystery unfolding in the shade of passionate red.
I searched for a clue of sender as the affectionate words I read.
"Soon I'll stand before you but this little note is my second choice.
I could not speak of love to you, for my thoughts could not find voice.
Although not written about a rose, nor fragile violets of blue,
not sweetened with sugar crystals, but know my love is true."
It was just a tiny scrap of paper without a hint from whom it came.
A rendered heart of crimson paper, romantically left without a name.
Flowers affirm my constant love for you.
Sweetheart, prepare to receive these
from January to December:
carnation, violets
daffodils, daisies
hawthorns, roses
buttercups, gladiolus
aster, marigold
chrysanthemum, hollies...
Never will I let oblivion
vanquish my vow*...
So help me, God.
( A https://www.pinterest.com/pin/578431145904755821/ and 40 words)
*Ecclesiastes 5:5 Better is it that thou shouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.
July 29, 2022
2nd place, "Short verse inspired by pictures" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Lisa YY; judged on 8/9/2022.
I thought I would take a tiny walk about
A field of wild flowers was calling my name.
I sat among the Queen Anne’s lace, enjoying the sun.
She beat upon my shoulders a bit as I gathered violets.
On a whim I began to decorate my hair.
I looped dandelions together and made myself a crown.
I put one under my chin, and knew it would come up butter.
The sun and I laughed as a monarch flittered past.
It’s just you and me I told a brown cow on the other side of the fence.
She was not going anywhere, curious to see what I was about.
I took out a pen and began to write. Then I flopped down on my belly.
Where did all of these flowers go in the winter?
I put a few into my boots, and my boots laughed.
They were in a merry mood now, so I got more carried away.
When I returned home no one said a word.
It is what I do; it is part of being a nature-loving Gemini woman.
Color'in books AND crayO.La looks
with a smile wondering while she
might be craZy or knot.ting a note
hear it ring from a ;ping! and a ling
a long song sing.ing over and over.
Again.
What's the color of my pen?
mmmm...
violettes de toulouse.
Sugar ;)
The flowers, leaves and roots of various Viola species are used for medicinal purposes,
being rich in vitamins A and C. They also contain a type of antioxidant called an
anthocyanin. Viola flowers are also used to make an herbal tea that is used in Chinese
herbal medicine...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Violet_(plant)
purrr pple... be sweet and be well.
Form:
The air has lost that Winter freeze and beautiful nature is awakening again.
Soon we will see baby animals and the yellow bees will be buzzing happy,
the flowers will be blooming. Oh, hello blue skies and warm breeze kisses.
I long to pick a bright wildflower bouquet and watch a bunny hopping and
a butterfly drift. Soon, outside my bedroom window there will be chirping,
I love the spring flowers in Canada. The daffodils, crocus, and the violets.
Not long till the farms will be flourishing and country markets will be selling.
of course, there will be rainfall, but that is why they invented the galoshes,
and umbrellas. I cannot wait till I can garden again with my hands in soil,
it is joyful to watch your flowers and plants grow. The lilacs will burst forth
with a fragrant scent in the air and all will be sun-kissed and vibrant pretty.
and my world will be picture perfect, awake and thriving . . .
rain
washes away the remains of winter -
my garden sighs rapture
_______________________
March 12, 2021
Poetry/Haibun/Springtime Rapture
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1335-862-12
All Rights Reservd, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Springtime Haibun,
sponsor, M. L. Kiser, Judged 04/05/2021
Tenth Place