Long Weather Poems

Long Weather Poems. Below are the most popular long Weather by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Weather poems by poem length and keyword.


The Dark, Dark Room

The Halloween Party was in full swing
Witches, wizards and an alien thing
with tentacles and one huge eye
Flourishing a laser gun shouting "Die".

Alison and her friends Ada and Jo
Were all dressed as feline kittens "meow"
Carl and Simon had laced the fruit punch bowl
As the evening drew on it took it's tole.

Drunkenly a bet was stupidly placed
Who of them would last and not be outpaced
A nightly vigil at Haunted Creek
Where rode a phantom horseman, there to seek.

Everyone there all knew the awful tale
Making in unison a quick inhale
It was long ago in 1702
A mounted stallion there cast a shoe

The rider's name was Squire Abraham Knight
Was set upon and put up a good fight
He was then butchered for a gold doubloon
Was then thrown in the creek and found at noon

Unexplained sightings, that then disappear
have been recorded, it is very unclear
Warnings come from parents to their own child
No-one goes there, it is left to grow wild

With youthful bravado they all met there
Torches flashed around, as the trees stood bare
Alison and her friends huddled together
Shivering in the inclement weather

Bart and his brother camped down for the night
on a hillock, keeping the creek in sight
Joining them was the terror gang of four
Troublemakers, who all acted hardcore.

Two hours later it started to snow
Huge flakes falling and wind began to blow
"I've had enough of this" said Alison
"I'm all for going home. I'm all done!"

Eagerly agreeing, walked back in step
Suddenly Jo tripped up and in pain wept
"Can't go further, my ankle is wrecked"
Leaning on shoulders, onwards they all trekked.

"No, I can't, please, you must stop", poor Jo wailed
"It's agony! she gasped and then inhaled.
"Come on Jo, we can stop at Adam's place".
"We will make it there at a slower pace.

Adam's place was an old abandoned farm
"No, not there!" said Ada-May in alarm
"Afraid of ghosts and ghouls?" mocked Alison
"More like rats and spiders and not much fun!".

Giggling they arrived at old Adam's place
The moonlight showing fear on each girl's face
"We have to go in there, we have no choice"
Jo jumped. "Was that whinnying of a horse?"

On that retort they threw open the door
Stepping inside, they all dropped through the floor
Not one of them survived their dreadful doom
Trapped, without rescue, in the dark, dark room.............
Form: Rhyme


Pages - a Shape Poem

  THE NEWS 


____________________________________________________________
Life Defined by Moments Blindsided
written by The Broken Hearted

Read the news today. There is blues                  Obituary    
today. Agony in whatever we choose              His life was extraordinary. 
today. Is there no  other  way  than              Proud family, wife named Glory
to escape the day? Why did you have            His children Edward and Tory
to end your life this way? Too many               Died Monday first of July
have  to  question  there  own sanity             Police give no reason why
taking  your  own  life,  is  it  vanity?               Service will be held at one
Trying to control your own calamity?             a potluck diner after it is done.
Why didn't you just converse with                ________________________
somebody?  Isn't  that  how  it  is 
suppose to be?   No one is suppose             JOIN THE ARMY
to feel so alone that they end their
own life. What are we going to do                 A Bright Future
as society? It is paralyzing to think                Awaits YOU! 
of what could be, when we take to 
the destruction personally. It is not               ______________________
suppose to be that way. Pages ripped
away, the book is close and can't be                    oil change
replayed. A story over and its gone.                       14.99
___________________________________________________________                        
 POLICE BEAT 

Police arrived on the scene shortly after hearing a gun shot fired on the second block of Hayes Road. A male was found deceased with a self inflicted wound to the head. 

Cat in a tree on Main street. Firefighters, paramedics and officers dispatched. Cat is safe without injury.

_____________________________________________________________

WEATHER                                        Lottery Numbers
Partly cloudy with  chance of
thunderstorms. 85 degreess                             6, 42, 66, 81, 89    01

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Folded away, tossed aside, no longer in view.
Nothing else printed, nothing else said about you.
We'll probably move on, we'll probably heal,
and we'll never have known what you feel.
Form: Shape

Humdumpty's Great Fall

Humdumpty was an analyst, a Cambridge Ph.D.,
A noted bio-atomist, whatever that might  be. 
Indeed, from earliest childhood it was his single aim 
To analyze no matter what might enter his domain. 
He analyzed his father's watch and next the neighbour's cat. 
Ah! Little more was seen or heard of Felix after that. 

Astounding learned pedagogues, hard pressed to keep his pace, 
Humdumpty grew up daily--in knowledge if not grace. 
And then at university his intellectual power 
Decimated Einstein and the works of Schopenhauer. 
With ease that was amazing he romped a Double First, 
And yet, for all his learning, nought quenched his burning thirst. 

Despite the storm, and tumult that marked his inner life, 
Humdumpty found the leisure to woo--and win--a wife. 
He loved her--Oh! so dearly, his idol and his joy! 
Alack! How oft our dearest 'tis we ourselves destroy. 
One day in stormy weather he raised his eyes above, 
And posed himself the riddle: "What constitutes her love?" 

One night--to angels' weeping--the dark thought seized his mind: 
"By scalpel and analysis the answer I shall find." 
Full soon she took a sleeping draught, and when the time was due, 
He set about his gruesome task, inspired by love so true. 
How tenderly, how lovingly, he cut into her heart. 
With what profound emotion he set his spouse apart. 

To isolate that molecule in which all love resides 
He scrutinized each corpuscle, and did much else besides. 
All data was computerized, and ere a while had passed, 
A reasonable hypothesis was imminent at last. 
How tantalizing is the truth, how far--and yet, how near! 
'Twas in the corner of his eye--and then would disappear. 

It dawned at last upon him, his efforts would prove vain, 
Unless he somehow managed to join her up again. 
Of every art that served this end he tried the whole range through. 
He first tried biophysics--and his last resort was glue. 
Alas, alas, Humdumpty! There is a fateful law: 
Some things men set asunder no mortal can restore. 

They did not need a hangman or Madame Guillotine. 
Before another week had passed, he died of bitter spleen. 
Now some say he's in Heaven, and others, he's in Hell. 
I'm not a theologian, it's difficult to tell. 
For sure, he cut his dear wife up, and who would call that right? 
But was it not his quest for truth that brought about his plight?
Form: Didactic

Premium Member Ragnarok: the Storm

With the end of days upon them
Nears the time of final battle
In the halls of high Valhalla
Asgard senses its death rattle

In the forest crows the rooster 
In the sky the sun does darken
In the cave the hound is howling
To these signs the Aesir harken

Heimdall blows the Gjallarhorn
Dark the rainbow bridge is turning
Vivid lightning cleaves Yggdrasil
Then the central tree is burning

Aesir watch in fascination
See volcanoes spew like fountains
See the heavens splitting open
See the oceans climb the mountains

See the continents convulsing
See the forests burn to ashes
See the sons of Mim awaken
In the fatal lightning flashes

As the winds consume the wasteland
From the south Surtr advances
With his minions tearing corpses
Bright his sword and sharp his lances

Aesir then prepare their weapons
Eyes are clear and arms are steady
The Midgard serpent Jörmungandr
Upon the battle plain is ready

With his heavy hammer Mjolnir
Strides the mighty god of thunder
To do battle with the serpent
And to rend the world asunder

June 30, 2014

N.B. This poem is an Epyllion, a brief narrative poem with a romantic or mythological theme. It is written in trochaic tetrameter, like some of the ancient Eddas.


Glossary:
Ragnarök - Final battle and death of the Aesir
Aesir - The Norse gods
Asgard - one of the Nine Worlds and home of the Aesir
Valhalla - a majestic, enormous hall located in Asgard, ruled over by the chief Norse god Odin
Heimdall - A Norse god who blows his horn to signal the beginning of Ragnarök
Gjallarhorn - Heimdall's horn
Midgard- Middle Earth, or the world of humans
Bifröst - the burning rainbow bridge between Midgard and Asgard
Yggdrasil - The sacred Norse central tree that holds the Nine Worlds
Mim - an Asian renowned for his knowledge and wisdom who has been beheaded. Odin carries around Mím's preserved head and it recites secret knowledge and counsel to him.
Surtr- a fire troll with a flaming sword who sets the world on fire.
Jörmungandr- The world serpent or ouroboros that surrounds the earth and grasps his own tail. When he lets go, the world will end. Jörmungandr's arch-enemy is the god Thor.
Thor - The Norse god of thunder
Mjolnir  - Thor's hammer and principal weapon
© Roy Jerden  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Epyllion

Romantic Serenade

It was the Halloween Ball
In the season of the fall
A mysterious bachelor called
To the attention of us all

The biggest mansion party
The cooks food is hearty
The host is definitely tardy
For most of his own party

The musicians play the last dance
The men try to romance
But don't stand a chance
For the host is here! They glance

To a man dressed in black wear
In Old Spanish attire bare
The women began to stare
For he was a young stallion, a Mare

From a top the stairs he walks
The ladies gather to stalk
The man who doesn't talk
Like birds they came in flocks

He wore black clothes and a red sash
White trim and a black mask
To find a dancer is his task
But who will he ask?

The only girl not drawn to attention
Is sitting alone no words to mention
He takes her hand There is no tention
Soft as a doves wings a cool sensation

The proceed to the middle of the floor
She doesn't know what's in store
A lot of musicians come in..there is more!
Some of them rich, some are poor

He takes his tunic off then starts
The music is written from the heart
The stand at attention far apart
Then the solo with the silver harp

The drum beat starts going 
They come together emotions flowing
His risque' dance he is showing
To her mind he is boasting

They move and dance like magic
For five minutes the song's romantic
The crowd watching in motionless static
The songs end was very tragic

The last beats were hard to miss
They drew close and started to kiss
For her it was a mystical bliss
His every movement caressed her lips

The awkward silence he starts to leave
The young lady can hardly breathe
She starts to faint...she can't see
The wings appeare and she falls asleep

The girl awakes in her bed it seems
In her school clothes it was only a dream
The sound of water foils the scene
Her eyes still blurry it's hard to see

She wanted this for real
Her heart is sealed
Then fate will have to deal
Her new loves appeal

She notices something on the ground
It's the wings and mask she found
And a CD blank is bound
She puts it in and the sound...

Is the unforgettable song
It was to her so long
But there was something wrong
Where did this come from?

In the CD case is an Old Engligh letter
It said "Undoubtedly for the better
I am gone with the weather
Your kiss I will always remember forever and ever
Form:


Premium Member 'before My Pen Is Hushed'

Before my flowing, poetic pen is hushed in Quietus,
And I have reached my journey's end with folded hands;
            Departed into my dreamless sleep beneath violets,
Let me write one everlasting, eternal, immortal verse;
                  Of the ravaged garden of my life.

      I want to hear a bird song when I quietly glide away,
With a sigh, I will lay my pale form down peacefully;
            I have willed my Keepsakes and my musing poems,
The Angel of death, will take my hand into another realm;
                  And the drums of time will cease.

      Oh, it has been a life full of happiness entwined with sad,
I have travelled many different roads to get to Tranquillity;
           The chapters of my life are full of the dead and undead,
Memories of childhood, family, friends and pets I loved;
                  The scars of life stab my soul.

      I do not fear death and I am ready to go through the gate,
But I will miss nature, the woods and the waters moving;
            And as I walk the silent passage alone to my eternal night,
Think of me as being set free and soaring high up above;
                  I lived a life weather-stained with tears.

      Leaving life is something we all must do; it is written,
I was held by a thread in this earthly realm until that last gasp;
            Now, all I know is the peacefulness of a leafy tree above,
Drifting blue clouds and rain falling gently on my resting place;
                  I was a shadow on the wall of time.

      Do not weep over my eternal grave heartbroken my dears,
I have followed the beautiful Angels footsteps to heaven;
           My poetry is timeless, ageless, and will always remain,
I have shed this earth bound life and I am a butterfly set free;
                  I drank from the deep blue cup of life.

      So come, dear hearts and plant some pretty flowers in Spring,
I am at last united with all my beloved who have gone before;
             Touch my name and remember me for my beauty,
And although my life was but a whisper, I loved every moment;
                  Now, I exist in another realm.

____________________
August 26, 2015


Poetry/Epic/'Before My Pen is Hushed'
Copyright Protected, ID 15-1216-704-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Submitted into FGI  Blog Special - Epic
Brian Strand

Podium Place 1
Form: Epic

The Morning Soars With Skylarks Singing Repost

The morning soars with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow.
Form: Verse

The Morn's Alive With Skylarks Singing

The morn's alive with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds loud, 
and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow!
Form: Verse

The Path I Seek

I seek not to be a presence. Forces beyond my control dictate the interactions I will have with those who come across my path. These forces disturb me in ways that I cannot understand, yet I react to them with efficiency. 

Subtlety is not one of my traits. Even now, I am poised to move in the direction to which I am called. It is a direction that could have great impact. Although I may waver in the course set before me, I am nonetheless committed until another force impedes me. 

On the path I seek, I can see farther than one can imagine. Even though I only have one eye, it is an eye that is clear, an eye that makes a statement. You would think that having only one eye, any spinning and turning I do would make me extremely dizzy. Nay, say I, I move ahead on the path I seek. 

On course, on time, and always considering my wall. It is not a wall to jump over, or to keep me from something or someone. Instead, it is everything and everyone else who would need or want to have a wall equivalent to mine. Theirs would be a wall to keep me from them. 

The path I seek can be strewn with objects that tend to slow me down. Nonetheless, I struggle against them, and keep surging forward. I depend on my own wrath and fury to keep me moving ever closer to my stated purpose, whatever it may be. At some point, I know I will lose all ability to continue down the path I seek. 

Along the path I seek, I watch events unfold before me with my one eye. It is an eye that, while surrounded with moisture, does not blink, shows little mercy, and does not cry. It does not cry even as my wall begins to crumble. The crying is only left to those dear beings I leave behind along my path. 

I wish I could feel the lives I touch but, the harsh truth is, I have no feelings. I am a creation that will never know what a feeling is. And thus, no love, no hate, no joy, no sadness will stay me from the path I seek. 

Alas, my wrath and fury are destined to die a slow death as I continue along the path I seek. I will not be missed, but I may be remembered. I will surely be cursed and called a monster. 

And before my eye finally sleeps, I get one last peek at where I have been. 
Still, I cannot cry over the destruction and anguish I have wrought during my passing. I only know that I will come this way again, because that is what hurricanes do along the paths they seek.   
END
Form: Narrative

RAIN SHINE

   
Placed 1st in Contest 


rain shine so divine 
sprinkle blessings kissings wet ~ 
feet in leather boots
           ~~~~~~

Rain-shine sound patter 
mad hatter
Alice lost in whimper drops
coatless with Rabbi Rabbit
ruling
                    \|||||||
              ////||||||||,,,,,
        ///////.////////||||||||||||~~the r
                                          Ain in
                                 sPain   f
                                            Alls mostly
                                       on the    //////~~_____?•
plain rain is my gain                    drip
to refrain                                  D
from disdain                               r
                                                     O
Keep                                                p  dripping 
          Ing
         everyone 

SANE                 planting  \\// \\//  grain  …..
                                                             ::::::::::
torrential rain potential 
Puddle      H
                           Ubble    Oo00orainnoshame
huddle close

    s 
            H
           O                                       * * * 
               wers  for blue flowers    | | |

so they cower 
in    ROYAL   tower  /////|||||||::::::://///\\\\\\
                              ///\\\\    a shimmering sleet
                                         of rain glimmering 
                                         on street
                                                        rainbow sheet covering
a fleet                of   SHIPs
                                2 dip  so neat 
                                                     sweet      
  
   RAIN AGAIN                        bleat bleat
SODDEN EARTH 
joyful mirth
                   |||||\/\/::::::::||||||•••girth birth water 

w a t e r   FILTER     b
                         R
                              OK
                              en
G.  R.  A. T. E. F. U. L    4.  RAINDROPS
                                           buckets of rain 
           there’s a hole in my bucket
    rain  s
               E
                  e
                     P
                        s 
                               sneaking

holy   r   A  i  N    
   
Rain     S.  h.  I.  N.   e.      ••xx
ON  ••

_______\\\\________
Form: Other

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Reflection on the Important Things

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Hide Ad