Long Well out Poems

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


Premium Member When Child Mimics Faith

Not feeling well out of vertigo’s affliction, I requested our special son to pray for me:  “Please ask God to heal my headache.” After gesturing with his branded “praying hands” amidst unintelligible supplication, he affectionately hugged me, then gently kissed my forehead.  Confidently, in sign language, he thanked the Lord, then clapped with earnest glee … affirming that I would be alright.  Grateful to the Saviour, my heart leaped with bliss for this child in our orphanage, who at 9 months old was declared “to progress toward retrogression” due to infantile spasm epilepsy, global developmental delay, and cerebral palsy. Now, he is 12 years old and triumphing with milestones along unconditional love, while constantly being prayed for and lavished with kisses whenever he is sick.

faith* in the Lord shown
mimicked by child with delight~~~
beatitudes at work

*Galatians 3:26 For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus. 

November 29, 2021
2nd place, "Haibun- With A Message" Contest
Sponsored by  Charles Messina; judged on 12/17/2021.
Form: Haibun


Slip Sliding Away

What a beautiful day it was, with the waves crashing on the beach
The sunshine creating quite a buzz as for the next wave I now reach 
Riding it right up to the shore, but not quite to where I was before
For I had drifted a little bit more the ocean temptress being my lure

So as I swam back out I had to turn to see how much I had drifted
For in my mind I had doubt just as if my confidence had been sifted 
But there each time I turned were those flag to the left and the right
Stay in the middle I had learned so lifeguards can keep you in sight

And I needed to continually check, for you can drift so quick and fast
For if I just said who gives a heck, well out there I just would not last
That's what the Lord pointed out to me that no one is turning around
That many are adrift out at sea, many of whom may never be found

Turn around and look for Jesus' Face in Him you will never drift away
Our Salvation just one act of His Grace, but a million more each day
So just turn around and take a look at where you have now landed
All the devil stole being a crook, but the Lord, He won't leave you stranded
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Learn Guitar My Son

There was I in my early twenties
sitting bored on a Sunday afternoon
mu mum suggested, get a hobby
but being a loner was well out of tune

My mind was blank till mum said
learn guitar, my son, well maybe
so I bought an acoustic guitar
then got lessons to learn my key

As I started learning some real tunes
it seemed I should've begun while a teen
but some progress I was actually making
after a year thought what might have been

So gave it up, wonder why?
probably not dedicated far enough
but now really appreciate class
guitarists playing real splendid stuff

My experiences make one appreciate
the skilful play of these in master class
like Bream, Williams, Romero and the like
inspiration they do bring, pray not to pass

(I recall here my early 20s and making effort to learn guitar which was not to be but learn to appreciate those who could especially in the classical field.)
Form: Rhyme

Homeowners Association

He had a statue of the Blessed Mother right there on his front lawn
Oh how God's Light reflected upon Her in the early morning dawn
But then one day he heard some knocking on his front door
It was the homeowners saying, hey, you can't have that anymore 

Not that we mean any sort or type or even any kind of disrespect
It's just that not all tend to agree with the views that you reflect
She will have to be taken down and kept well out of public sight
For this is not the type of town that are in the words that you write

And that flag that is there just hanging off of your window 
Well I'm sorry to say Sir, but that too will also have to go
It's not that I don't love that old Red, White and Blue
But we as American's must respect everyone else too

Oh and about that Pro-Life bumper-sticker that you just got
Right now, to get rid of that... we can't really do a whole lot
But  tomorrow is coming and it is going to be a whole new day
Maybe it might be for the best if you just packed up and went away
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Haunted

While checking out a supposedly haunted house
I made my way down into a crypt-like cellar.
All I could hear was the scurrying of a mouse,
but it felt spooky, as though the shadows had eyes.
And I wasn't so sure my being here was wise, 
this decrepit old house might still have a dweller.

All the other kids warned me to stay far away,
vehemently swearing screams were heard late at night. 
I thought I'd be safe in the middle of the day,
but I can sense an evil presence lurking here.
And my pounding heart's pumping fast, fueled by fear
as I run and don't stop till it's well out of sight.


(Rhyme)


3/30/2018
Form: Rhyme


Inside My Head- For Contest

Hello there, do please come inside- no need to wipe your feet
excuse the mess, I fear you'll find it isn't very neat.
This place is always untidy, victim of my disorder
from old hang-ups to memories, I'll admit I am a hoarder.
In here hanging like mobiles, noisy, at odds with my feelings
are life's little distractions, niggling, swinging from the ceiling.
Careful with your torch,  don't shine it underneath the bed
beneath it there is lurking a dark sprouting creeping dread.
Most people couldn't live with it, a disturbing thing to some,
as it cowers in the corner from the things still yet to come.
Tread lightly in the corridor, just mind out where you walk
you'll trip on my anxiety that bobs up like a cork.
The fire is stoked, the hearth is swept and logs stacked in a heap
my warmth to all well tended (well, except when I'm asleep).
Cardboard tubes in disarray, and more you cannot see-
plans I drew up in the past, none ever meant to be.
Mannequin in veil of black, arms raised as if to dance
with all my past relationships that never stood a chance.
This rocking chair, my temper, that sometimes I must sit in
and you'll notice that the varnish of my patience has worn thin.
My sense of humour's in the loft, protected by my hats
seemed like the right place for it, since my friends all think I'm bats.
That one small window by the beam lets my faith's light shine in
I'm sorry it's not brighter, window dirty from past sin.
Still, I can  climb and open it to aim my telescope
for somewhere in the darkness lies the faintest glimpse of hope
that keeps me living here in peace and shelters me from sad;
you wonder why I live in here? Well, out there-
its just mad!

September16th 2015

For contest 'Inside my head'- sponsor John Lawless
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Going Forward

Don't it sound like              
Th' old is about to die?  
Take them happy stories     
And say goodbye               
      We were going forward until you left me behind   
We were going forward, through the best n' the worst of times  

Change of season                             
As even the clocks unwind            
When you would come around like
A friend of mine                                     
      We were going forward until you left me behind
         You would come around, Claude, and we would unwind

Didn't we have enough of the stuff of life, Claude?

Long way to go with 
Abrasions on the knee               
Take aim at the target though it's          
Well out of reach                                    
       We were going forward until you left me behind    
              We were going forward until you left me

Didn't we have the worst and the best of times?
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I've heee'rd

I've hee'rd some say you just; must not go, visit
That brazen faced man..Who's a maverick Joe..We thought he wasn't.??? But the way some things panned.? Just leave old Joe well out of your plans.' He resides in the deepest depths we know.' Where the cold is like knives.? Or at least a stubbed toe.! He's an old bush-wacker..Ask anyone here.. He ain't real tolerant either dear.' With him up is up.' And down is down, and left.? Well it sure ain't right.! What other faults are to be found. Un-right??? I think a toilet roll is needed.? The waxy type..Much inking must not be impeeded
And it'll remind me he's not a luxurious type, stubborn and pig-iron headed, this is
Streching like tripe, or India rubber, oh yes
There there..I feel most vindicated as i wail and  Blubber....)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Lady Hood Ornament

Oh she of many lovely looks and names
reflects the golden glories of the day.
Her mythic face points to the western way
an intrepid mascot for freedom's winds
this flying lady lives well out in front.
Seeing her heading across these vast skies,
a vision of an ecstasy divine,
adornment to the delight of deities.

Oh she, the figurehead who we admire
a shining seer seeing journeys ahead
keeping all of us far from fear and dread.
She who holds my love wears a bonnet badge
on the bowsprit of my heart while we
float haplessly away in fantasy.




Free Verse Sonnet 14 Lines  98 Words 12/7/22
This is a colored pencil portrait of my wife Jean
as a young woman ( artwork by G. Gaul).
It tells of how she navigates life and her influence
on me. The ornament on her sun hat represents 
hood ornaments on automobiles and figureheads
on vessel bowsprits used as symbolic help to see
the way clearly.
© Greg Gaul  Create an image from this poem.

After Love

Already there it is nearly gone, 
no magic, no music flat waves.

I am, because of you and trusted how we, two lovers met.

And other people, 
lost along the beaconed way and we cannot see to use it.

You were the miracle all saw, because I am simple, of me.

It was found as well out in the wind, 
and I found it out in the sea - come to me, 
it is splendid, it is not, as for me.
Tidal pools, see ours the fish swim in circles, 
as they wait to get out.

Great is the ceremony, look to the coastal side, 
wherein I was brought up.
But however the pool it looks, 
in the dark by the moon, it was safe.

Safe from the storm, 
life was for me, you looking out from the sea.
Then if it is bitterer than the sea for want of peace, 
after love you are the price that I paid.
Form: Acrostic

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace