Long Well chosen Poems
Long Well chosen Poems. Below are the most popular long Well chosen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Well chosen poems by poem length and keyword.
You lift me from mundane reality,
with wondrous flights to lands of poetry,
where there, my simple visions come to be
expressed with chosen words of imagery.
Implanted in the heart and soul of me,
your brilliant gems become the words I see.
My clouded concepts there to you transferred
to be refined through vetting of each word;
to shape so artfully my thoughts conferred
that mirror passions of my heart incurred...
reanimated with your words preferred.
No turning back once our sojourn begins;
surrendering...the only choice that wins.
The hunter and the hunted, we like twins,
bind close together through the thick and thins
as words and thoughts unite in final goal...
all fragments melded to create a whole
and we together merge in heart and soul.
You soon present your gift of polished thought;
each word alive, well-chosen, sorely sought...
so bittersweet...my muse...poetic art.
My poem shines in your finality;
a diamond, honed from visions undeterred.
Through mazes, it encountered many spins
composing imagery through word control,
until your tranquil spirit knew you caught
that inner feeling deep within my heart.
As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
She flitted from flower to flower, and I thought she'd landed in my hair
Perhaps the sweet-scented spray attracted her, this lady butterfly, so fair
Then, she flew to suckle the white jasmine blooms, on delicate wings
I was mesmerized and felt my heart beats as if they were flutterings
Quite still I stood as she hovered before gently landing upon my finger
Each flap of her beautiful velvety wings made me wish she would linger
Upon the morning's breeze she was carried until resting on a marigold
I chased away a bumblebee who got near to her. I thought, "How bold!"
I watched the Monarch lay her eggs, each tinier than a mustard seed
upon her well-chosen birthing place, a tender green leaf of milkweed
She hovered for a while longer, as if she pondered about her decision
to leave her precious offspring, but she'd given them new life's provision
Food to eat when into little caterpillars they'd develop when hatched
She'd done all she could to assure her eggs had been firmly attached
It was very intoxicating for me and of the experience I had to write
about watching a butterfly do flyovers in my yard before taking flight
I admit having watched her as if she were dancing around me today
kept me on the lookout for predators that might steal her eggs away
1st Place Winner
As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
She flitted from flower to flower, and I thought she'd landed in my hair Perhaps the sweet-scented spray attracted her, this lady butterfly, so fair
Then, she flew to suckle the white jasmine blooms, on delicate wings I was mesmerized and felt my heart beats as if they were flutterings
Quite still I stood as she hovered before gently landing upon my finger Each flap of her beautiful velvety wings made me wish she would linger
Upon the morning's breeze she was carried until resting on a marigold I chased away a bumblebee who got near to her. I thought, "How bold!"
I watched the Monarch lay her eggs, each tinier than a mustard seed upon her well-chosen birthing place, a tender green leaf of milkweed
She hovered for a while longer, as if she pondered about her decision to leave her precious offspring, but she'd given them new life's provision
Food to eat when into little caterpillars they'd develop when hatched She'd done all she could to assure her eggs had been firmly attached
It was very intoxicating for me and of the experience I had to write about watching a butterfly do flyovers in my yard before taking flight
I admit having watched her as if she were dancing around me today kept me on the lookout for predators that might steal her eggs away
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2025
I once did join the race for hollow gold
unaware of what truth it would unfold...
later on, my heart learned about God's grace
in pursuing genuine meaningful race.
Triumphant for every well-chosen fight
my faith glows to delight in divine light...
strengthened against hardship-blow and sorrow
endeavoring well for blest kindness' show.
Leaving the race for hollow gold, I flee
toward higher drive of heavenly spree...
smiting selfishness, sharing love with zest
doing right, surmounting arrogance-test.
Onward life-building with eternal worth
while creating hope-filled heaven on earth...
now, my soul exudes compassionate bliss
bursting from illumined spirit's abyss.
The race for hollow gold indeed is vain
with its doomed failure along struggles' pain...
promising ephemeral ecstasy
that lingers with skeptic hypocrisy.
*1 Corinthians 15:10 But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.
June 23, 2026
1st place, "This Or That, Vol 39" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 7/13/2026
Botticelli takes a warm bath.
Springtime in arcadia,
The Grace chicks are a threesome.
I tend to ignore the other stuff that's going on.
For triplets
they each have their subtle differences
The girls are demure,
yet they seem to be hoofing a sexy gavotte.
We need a Maypole,
I guess the Italians outnumber the English
in Elysium.
They are as soft as a pillow dream.
I wonder if they ever pillow fight -
a pajamaed affair designed
to arouse Pan and all his
goat faced minions.
It's lambing time
and the ladies
are bouncing merrily.
One day I might take note
of what else is happening
in the painting,
pull it all together
with a few well-chosen observations.
Probably, even then
there will be some odd twigs,
or bendable twists of green
I can't weave together,
no matter how hard I try.
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Well chosen words conveying your feelings
Of love but also your fears
Fears that a loving romance will fade
And become so very routine
To keep love alive must remember each day
Show her how much her love means
Show her by all the small things that count
That prove she's a special lady
The one you've chosen to be with forever
No ifs, no ands, and no maybes
Amazing how they keep the fire burning
Small things that mean so much
Things that may seem unimportant to some
As simple as a gentle touch
Don't get me wrong, I'm surely no expert
When it comes to the secret to fidelity
But after many years of studying about love
These things are written indelibly
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Chosen words that promise love forever
Through all of the coming years
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Well chosen words conveying your feelings
Of love but also your fears
Fears that a loving romance will fade
And become so very routine
To keep love alive must remember each day
Show her how much her love means
Show her by all the small things that count
That prove she's a special lady
The one you've chosen to be with forever
No ifs, no ands, and no maybes
Amazing how they keep the fire burning
Small things that mean so much
Things that may seem unimportant to some
As simple as a gentle touch
Don't get me wrong, I'm surely no expert
When it comes to the secret to fidelity
But after many years of studying about love
These things are written indelibly
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Chosen words that promise love forever
Through all of the coming years
Disarmed
Bullets fall silent
against words
well chosen
Their caliber
muted
— the target on fire
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Stuck In Gear
Motion
not an absolute
The world
is never still
Inertia
tries to write the law
Where stop and start
are nil
History
at the speed of light
Consensus
in the math
But standing
here
While stuck in gear
— the notion leaves me flat
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Before The After
Don’t bog down
in research
Spontaneity
the thing
Truth
is most elusive
And joy
a passing Spring
In flashes
of an instant
What’s timeless
will appear
Thinking often
kills the goose
That lays
— both far and near
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Deafening Silence
Things most often named
before understood
Then never renamed
for the bad or the good
‘Particles of light’
we now know as waves
But ad infinitum
their reference stays
A ‘Tablet of Paper’
consisting of sheets
Two ‘Bolts’ of lightning
fused Franklin’s belief
A ‘Softball’s’ still deadly
meant to careen
And ‘Deafening Silence’
— spurs wonder indeed
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
is only just for me.
It is full of cheap
trinkets
and gadgets
that a teacher (me)
can giggle over.
They are quiet useful,
just ask 'The Cat
in the Hat."
Marry Poppins
carpet bag's got
nothing
next to my
smaller, cheaper
version, and
there is no lamp
in mine.
It is essential
in a loud
classroom
of laughter,
crying,
and daily mayhem.
Within my blue
happy bag, I conceal:
one pink clicky pen
with a plastic
watermelon on top
that I press down and
the watermelon goes up
and down
when I click, click, click!
The second pen is magenta
with a pineapple on top
with the same
whimsical style and
silly practicality.
The third one is teal
and fat with sparkles
dancing all over it.
It also writes in rainbow
colors, for less than serious
teacher anecdotes.
The fourth impressively
well-chosen treasure
is 'Dual Action'
generic Advil
for mind-numbing
hourly headaches.
This is crucial
to success!
The fifth is a blue
compact mirror
that shows
me just a little
bit more of
my face than
I ever really need
to know about,
and how much
older I've become
every Monday.
Lastly, I have
a dainty pink bottle
of watermelon-scented
moisturizing hand
sanitizer.
I ran out of band aids,
or they ran out on me.
Either way.
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Well chosen words conveying your feelings
Of love but also your fears
Fears that a loving romance will fade
And become so very routine
To keep love alive must remember each day
Show her how much her love means
Show her by all the small things that count
That prove she's a special lady
The one you've chosen to be with forever
No ifs, no ands, and no maybes
Amazing how they keep the fire burning
Small things that mean so much
Things that may seem unimportant to some
As simple as a gentle touch
Don't get me wrong, I'm surely no expert
When it comes to the secret to fidelity
But after many years of studying about love
These things are written indelibly
The charm of a well written love poem
Can actually bring one to tears
Chosen words that promise love forever
Through all of the coming years