Long Watchful Poems
Long Watchful Poems. Below are the most popular long Watchful by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Watchful poems by poem length and keyword.
prayer is an incense
of a quiet spirit
this strength of fellowship
in a tent of meeting
personal
private
a place
of communion
with Him
truth in every symbol
in the presence
of the Holy one
among sinners
a simmering light
a seven branched stand
we change He does not
word for word
duty for duty
this undeflected God
our substitute
&propritiation
a presence
at the centre of our lives
devoted
to detail
persistent
ever watchful
ever caring
marks His presence
bringing near
on
eagles
wings
My Lord, He is so good to me.
In every breath my Spirit breathes:
Thankfulness and gratitude
Renewal for my attitude.
Revival in my soul’s abide
Mysterious joy I cannot hide.
A longing He alone doth fill
Peace He bids, “My child, be still.”
Comfort through my deepest loss
Strength when mine appears is lost.
Assurance when I doubt His call
Restored to break through any wall.
Faith reveals His mighty power
Belief can topple any tower.
Inspired to emulate my Lord
His precious blood, who can afford?
Yet He so freely gave His all
Poured out for us, He took the fall.
Forever in His watchful view
Adoring Him from plight or pew.
Worshipping with fervent singing
Angelic hosts, their harmony bringing.
Heavenly praise that brings into view
A spectacular promise, of what awaits you.
Performers of the Night
A journey around the centric Sun,
dawning light until day is done.
A hooting owl swooping on nested prey,
a harmony of crickets,
flickering, firefly lamps.
The Moon views with a watchful eye,
a confident sentry of the night
revolving, eastward in the sky;
leading with illuminating light.
the star studded dome
a symphony of planets ~
synchronized rhythm
~~~~~~~~
Crystalline syllable count: 9 and 8
Kimo syllable count: 10, 7, 6
Quatrain syllable count: 8, 9, 8, 9
Haiku syllable count: 5, 7, 5
March 27, 2022
For: A combination of forms Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Syllables verified on howmanysyllables.com
Rhyming words verified on Rhymezone.com
Placed 8th in contest
Alieu A. Bah Ask:
How art thou faring bard?
FEMALE BARD: Love art faring well in my heart.
IT WAS you, the master of wit and charm;
With masterful words you have stirred my heart to become
Unburdened, by the keeping OF it!
I can now release the beauty of the love once hidden there, UNLEASHING POEMS FROM MY SOUL IS ONLY BROUGHT FORTH BY ONE WHO'S EARS ARE DIRECTED TO RECEIVE THEM.AND YOU MY YOUTHFUL AND MOST NOBLE BARD HAVE BRING LIGHT INTO MY DARK CORNERS.ASHE'
MALE BARD: Truth have been issued for your blessed heart. Unleashing with such might that I fall prostrate at that power of love. The bard shall thru' eternity sing thy praises of love.
FEMALE BARD: The bard be too jolly if he only sings of love. LOVE lands on tender ears...and my warrior will be weakened. Deceptions of love can blind one’s eyes my Admirer be my Admiral, my warrior king, must be equipped with the sword of two edges.
One to protect me and one to cut deep into my core. Bow my noble bard to no man nor woman, but with a slightly tilted head and a watchful eye. Protect your heart from folly. Really you cannot afford a weakened state not even for me. My lover must be not only a jolly Bard but … My vigilante.
MALE BARD: Aye! Hearken O seeker of the Ideal love of man. Hearts have been pierced into for in the most ancient of sapiens did testify to this... Be warn not to undermine that power which is but God unto us... love shall make thee of the insane. man, truly can transcend that might.
Female bard Oladeji: Love transcends all boundaries/ and true love is just what happens as we communicate/ i will share my heart with you. until we are strangers no more. i will hold this poem close to my bosom and adore you my noble youthful bard.
FOOTNOTE:written around 2013
IMPROMPTU WE JUST MET!
Alieu A. Bah from the Gambia.
West Africa 21 yrs. [at the time]
old / and mamma Oladeji 64 years old [at the time]
AKA VICKI ACQUAH
POETRY AND LOVE / KNOWS NO BOUNDARIES
Some soldiers receive medals for their bravery in war,
Or praise for their services on ships, air, or shore.
Men and women fight for world peace,
Continuous battles that never cease.
Make love, not war is an adage,
Where is the love? when wars are savage.
Wars cause death and destruction to all.
United, we stand, divided we fall.
There are no medals or words of praise,
Or sculpture busts or honour flags were raised,
For the victims of war, who through no fault of their own,
Have lost their homes, livelihoods and families,
And struggle alone.
Alone in a world that is alien to them
A world where you lose trust in your fellowmen.
Doubt creeps in, and the truth seems to hide,
But with their strong faith that comes from inside,
These courageous, faithful, stoic folk,
Even when they are down and broke
Soldier on and endure it all,
Until they hear a ceasefire call.
Unsung heroes everyone
Who, without cover and nowhere to run,
Lived in fear every day
Praying their enemies had gone away.
The world should give a rousing cheer,
A cheer that men and creatures hear
No medals made of solid gold,
Or regimental marches to behold
Was expected from these human beings
Who are the salt of the earth
Their fight for survival
It showed their strength of character and worth.
The survivors of these war heroes
It will not be recognised.
They had to suffer in silence,
As there were so many watchful eyes,
They would not want medals,
Medals would not be right
The world could raise a glass to them
That would bring pleasure and delight
A glass full of praise and friendship, too
A symbol of unity, a vow to stay true
To each other as much as we humanly can,
It should be the purpose of every man.
A groovy many galactic bodies circle the sun.
Yet wandering almost, different stars spun.
Wander aimlessly, sobbing in sorrow.
Memories weep tears as we gently harrow.
Men are obsessed with their dignity.
Dread losing it as they acquire it utterly.
Peas are picked under an extreme storm.
Rain is falling on the smokestack form.
In adoration, trust requires alert and reserve.
It guarantees any other freedom swerve.
We ought to be watchful while looking for our mates.
Since applying one's will is frequently relates.
Thunder is heard at night when the sky is lit.
It's lenient to imagine how loud squeals can hit.
I miss you both
Your guidance being my oath
It seems like yesterday
You both went yonder far
Beyond my eyes
Up in Heaven having a look down
Your words through your wisdom
Wise and true
You would say today, Grandson you are doing what we advised and that’s pursue
You would be proud
Sometimes when I get into a struggle, I feel your whispers in what I should do
I feel your friendly breezes from outside
Your warmth on the inside
Your disciple being harsh and firm
Life’s preparation I needed to learn
Hard knocks from your experiences
Grandma and Grandpa truly knew
It was life to go through and making break throughs
My tears often fall in reflection
But never forget your lesson
You taught me how too preserver
Overcoming all the fear
I see greatness in the skies
I know you both are observing in watchful eyes
Inspiration you gave me
Being my very best
Always being in my corner
Tomorrows that became
Appreciative in take aim
Remembering you both now and forever
Thank you in the natural and the spirit
Love you both
Heart to Heart
Your Grandson to cherish
Until into the atmosphere
Your Grandson
Oh, scarecrow with your watchful gaze
guarding autumn’s harvest season -
hanging down o’er golden maize.
Oh scarecrow with your watchful gaze;
fraying, flapping straw under blaze
of pumpkin sky in full season.
Oh - scarecrow with your watchful gaze,
guarding autumn’s harvest season.
Beads of cold sweat surfaced on my skin
Here and there coalescing in tiny streams
Throes of passions; the source of human sin
Regrets the envy of my thought, but not it seems.
Now comes the low murmur of the lazy surf
Along the marrow the passage, the acquainted place
This illegitimate struggle, this timeless sleepy curse
Disguises the throes of this serried power, I pant in disgrace
Surrendering to this pulsing watchful eye
As the lean, dark-eyed man wipes his fingers wet
I am the black bird, infatuated,as the clouds go by
In the taunting-pate coughs, I’m beset.
Constrained by this liquid fire, my body set aflame
Enchanting are my withdrawing moans, in vain
While yet I play this torrid mocking game
Believing the black bird will relieve my pain.
The Fly in My Coffee
Kevin Davis 2024
At break of dawn on a gloomy day,
I coughed and sniffled the blues away.
I poured my coffee, rich and deep—
The kind that wakes the dead from sleep.
I raised the cup with grateful sigh…
When in it bobbed—a horsefly.
Not perched upon the rim so prim—
Oh no. It backstroked. Strong. And grim.
I froze mid-sip. My soul cried, “Why?!”
That fly looked pleased—I can’t deny.
A choice arose, both grim and tough:
“Just drink it down? It’s hot enough…”
“Surely,” I thought, “the heat will win.
No germ survives what steeps within.
Besides, I’ve built immunity
From gas-station food and mystery chili.”
But then I saw my future self
Explaining this to someone else:
“Yes, doctor… well, you see—a fly…”
He’d blink. I’d sigh. Dignity: goodbye.
So to the sink the brew was cast—
Farewell, dear cup, you didn’t last.
I brewed anew with watchful eye
And glared suspiciously at the sky.
This time I found a sturdy lid—
No airborne swimmer snuck amid.
I let it cool, then took a sip—
No wings. No legs. No water trip.
My throat rejoiced, my mood turned bright,
No buzzing drama, no insect fight.
And thus I learned at morning’s start:
Flies may share the morning sky—
But not my coffee.