Long Wavers Poems
Long Wavers Poems. Below are the most popular long Wavers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wavers poems by poem length and keyword.
She waits in traffic while running her errands
singing along to the car radio,
then waits in lines at various places
smiling at faces she doesn’t know.
Evenings, she waits for her husband
cooking dinners she knows he will love.
Later, inside a room made for waiting,
she writes poetry prior to the appointment that alters her life.
She next finds herself waiting week after week
for the chemo to take its effect -
waiting and puking night after night,
but still always tucking her children in bed,
Bible stories read and nightly prayers said.
Soon her strength wanes, but she waits for good news.
It’s not in her nature to wait for the bad.
She waits, and her strength never wavers.
In the end, her husband is waiting on her -
hand and foot, like she’d waited on him.
They’ve laid her to rest, and her family all know
where she’s gone, she waits there for them.
Written Jan. 27, 2016
for the Becca's Inspiration "Waiting" Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
In Himalayan heights blue glaciers feed
A pristine lake encased in a tranquil basin,
Dense sky descends with aquamarine lid
On water, stillness wafts in the air thin,
Nature paints divine scene I haven’t seen.
By the lake I stand soaked in joy it brought
Crystal water offers the calmness I sought,
My body in placid reflection I could trace
Etched on the serene lake I see me float,
I feel content for I found my desired place.
A bird flies too low, the crisp air it wavers
The water layer breaks, ripples for short time,
My despair concealed so long, it flutters
Stillness returns, mind hymns mute rhyme,
I blissfully submerge in an ecstasy sublime.
The lake water is so very clear and so virgin
Looking at depth is like plunging deep within
Feel the pangs abate vents of agony release,
My mind opens, the inner search I begin
Detached stilled soul sinks in fluid peace.
November 11, 2017
Form : Dizain. Syllable count : 10 each line.
Written: August 31, 2023
______________________________________________________________
With your feet rooted deep in the earth,
And your mind soaring high into rebirth
Claim your excellence, embrace your worth,
Subsume the duality that governs your mirth.
For it is in acknowledging both light and dark,
True beauty and growth can embark,
The vitality you emit will aid self-acceptance,
A journey toward inner balance and transcendence.
With your heart resonating with divine beauty,
Arrant alignment with your true destiny,
Connect with the vibrational vitality of the universe,
Invoke within your spirit a sense of purpose,
Shine your light upon your soul's deepest desires,
Agape doors of wisdom and claim your acquires.
With every step you bear, grounded and aware,
Let the earth's embrace guide you without despair,
For within its roots lies the wisdom of ages,
An ancient connection that never wavers.
And as your mind soars high in the endless sky,
Let your dreams and aspirations reach raw heights,
It is in the vastness of neoteric that options arise,
Where limitations dissolve and greatness lies.
With your feet rooted deep in the earth,
And your mind soaring high to its worth.
Embrace the duality that exists, and empower.
For it is the key to unlocking your true power
With this balance of opposites, you shall succeed,
Unleashing the potential that lies within your creed.
A jerrybuilt jumble, so shoddy, diminished;
just cubes of grey concrete with windows and doors.
It started to crumble the day it was finished.
Franco’s “solution” for gypsies and moors.
It’s called “La Dehesa”, the pasture, the grange.
The old ones say once there were orchards here, too.
It’s undergone quite a formidable change:
there’s nothing but concrete obscuring the view.
Like rabbits in hutches we live in our flats,
with neighbours on both sides, below and above,
surrounded by dustbins and children and cats,
and noises of squabbling, noises of love.
Each Sunday, some woman (I can’t tell you where)
starts singing, as morning creeps in through the shutters.
Flamenco, like woodsmoke, just hangs in the air,
and laps over drainpipes and outlets and gutters.
She’s clearly a gypsy. I can’t say I’ve seen her,
but singing is thoughtless, as easy as breathing,
and something about her, her aural demeanour,
is caught in her song, which comes seeping and seething
through windows and clothes lines, as if by osmosis.
She sings for herself. She’s not grabbing attention.
There’s no petty ego. Aesthetic hypnosis
is selfless. Seduction, without condescension.
She sings of her pain and her ecstasy. Both
can be borne on the air, like a children’s balloon.
Her art is unconscious, leguminous growth,
yet as hauntingly lovely as the light of the moon.
Gitanos, gitanas – delinquents and whores.
Well, maybe – but, seeing those ravishing eyes,
or hearing The Song as it wavers and soars,
I know in my soul where my sympathy lies.
We are witnesses to the final act of a mad and incendiary project,
an experiment of a world bound by invisible and shining wires,
the reckless belief that we can always be connected, always alight,
that electric power, like a river of light, can flow unceasingly
for eight billion souls dreaming under the same dark sky.
I imagine how each cable vibrates like a nerve of the earth,
pulsing with promises of progress, but also with unseen shadows,
while cities open their neon eyes to the dark horizon,
and the stars, once sisters of desires, disappear under a veil of light.
We feel how night and day merge into a dance without pause,
how sleep becomes a relic from times when silence was a gift,
and our thoughts, like captive birds, fly in infinite circles,
seeking a place of rest in a world that no longer knows peace.
In the depths of this network, we dream of connections to soothe us,
but we forget the roots that bind us to the earth that nourishes us,
we forget that beneath the brightness of cities, the earth weeps iron tears,
and that the echo of these tears resonates in our hearts thirsty for quiet.
Now, at this crossroads, facing the mirror of time,
we see how the world wavers under the weight of our burning desires,
how each light bulb lit brings a deeper shadow into the soul,
and how the consequences burn like a fire that cannot be extinguished with bare hands.
Let us turn our gaze to the sky beyond the screens,
to rediscover the stars that listened to the stories of our ancestors,
to remember how to breathe in the dark without fear of the unknown,
to let silence surround us, like a balm for weary souls.
Thus, perhaps we will learn to truly live again,
to connect not just through wires, but through hearts beating in unison,
in a world where light and darkness share their place with wisdom,
and where the dream of being always alight is replaced by the desire to be alive.
Untamable Silent Slumber
Under the sunset, as it melts away into the twilight favor
Swept away into the cave’s hypnotic pool of emerald green
Obedient to the graceful rhythm of the growing waves
Bridge of vague shadow, wavers yesterday’s light scene
Falling limp, eager to surrender, in the harmonic roll of the undertow
Drawn to a knoll of grass and leaves that crunch under the weight of our souls
Cocooned in a state of consciousness, untamable silent slumber, reborn a butterfly
Forever residing in the unattainable exotic futures control
Open to a moment of silence time of the universe
Splendor eternal, coiling through the deepest parts of unbounded mind
Myrrh sweetness taking my breath away feeling alive
Lyrics, verses, and melodies of dreams unwind
4/6/2016
A warning
National day, every country has one, when they are allowed
to wave their flags, get drunk, and indulge in latent xenophobia
When the people (otherwise kept in the dark) are allowed
to think they are the free people, the most democratic
the beautiful people in the whole world.
These free people, full of propaganda, not seeing they are sold
down the river to the encroaching fascism in Europe
This country that wants to see a green and pleasant land
wants to eradicate petrol-driven cars and replace them
with electric-driven cars has, nevertheless, been induced to pump
more oil from fields in the North Sea by Europe’s fascist regime
to fight -and as always, the Russians, leaving the small country
squeezed between great power politics.
The flag wavers are not told of the betrayal, but a few are aware
their demonstration is drowned by the day of jubilation.
The mild spring weather continues, and the sun smiles from a blue sky
for now, but if this fascism takes hold, the skies will be murky
and the air will smell of death and cordite.
“If thou put the brethren in remembrance of these things, thou shalt be a good minister of Jesus Christ, nourished up in the words of faith and of good doctrine, whereunto thou hast attained.” 1 Timothy 4:6 King James Version of the Bible
Revival cries my soul in need
Struggling against guilt of sin-breed
Then comes heaven’s refreshing light…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
My heart craves for mercy and grace
Longing warmth of divine embrace
Then responds caring kindness might...
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
Faith wavers due to mocking doubt
Leaving me with skeptical pout
Then Your cheers smite unbelief’s blight…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
My hope hides discontentment pain
As hypocrisy inflicts strain
Then flow supplies from blessings’ site…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
Receiving pardon from above
Grants me Your precious gift of love
Then peace seeks me in prayer flight…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
Thanking You, God, in praise-filled bliss
Never Your fellowship to miss
Then now I say midst service-height…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
March 23, 2023
1st place, "Writing Challenge - 'N' Words" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 3/23/2023.
"You smell like sunshine and gunpowder." ~ Deeks says to himself after his partner (and future wife) walks out the room. From the TV show NCIS: Los Angeles.
Sunshine and gunpowder
By Michelle Morris
18/04/2026
You smell like sunshine and gunpowder
Two of my favourite things
You shine and you burn
You make my heart sing
Never before you
Did anyone reach my heart
Somehow you overran it
With sunshine and gunpowder art
You filled it to overflowing
You completely blew my mind
Every day is an adventure
A meeting of fate and time
How did I get so lucky
How our opposites attract
We're blessed to overflowing
We're blessed to have each other's backs
So much in this world is uncertain
But with you it never wavers
It's a constant in constant change
It's everything I ever prayed for
You smell like sunshine and gunpowder
Two of my favourite things
You shine and you burn
You make my heart sing
I love everything about you
And I thank you being you
Our hearts are free and forever taken
By sunshine and gunpowder true
© Michelle Morris, 2026
It's so dark outside, my eyes can't distinguish where sand meets water. Somehow, dusk has come and gone, plunging the evening into darkness.
But even as my eyes yield to this opaque absence of light, my other senses heighten. I can hear the crash of waves as they abuse the shoreline, sending foaming water up the beach in icy streams. I'm lulled by the sound of polished pebbles colliding like marbles as they recede with the waves. I can feel the sea's cool mist against my face, taste its salt on my lips. The scent of seaweed drifts on the breeze in gentle wafts - and then, slowly, the faintest whiff of smoke.
I glance over my shoulder, where a tiny dot of light penetrates the darkness. It's a beacon on this cool night, and I walk slowly toward it, digging my toes into the soft sand with each step.
dim moonlight
peeks through thinning clouds--
fire crackles
He's still there, stoking the fire, feeding the flames until the heat is tangible. The air wavers between us like a veil - a line I want to cross. He stirs up clouds of smoke, stirring feelings within me as I watch his busy hands. I wait patiently for him to notice my approach, and when he does, my breath catches.
rainbow flames
burst from seasoned maple--
blue eyes sparkle
I watch golden light flicker across his skin, softening the lines of his face. He abandons his task, moving around the fire until he stands before me, smiling as if he knows my heart is thundering in my chest.
He waits for a painstaking moment to pass. Then he kisses me with toasted marshmallow lips, pulling me down into his lap to watch the sparks rise like fireflies into the breathless night.