Long Whitens Poems
Long Whitens Poems. Below are the most popular long Whitens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whitens poems by poem length and keyword.
light
frost whitens
the frozen verge-
inert below,summer
awaits
under
the hedge a
welcome haven-
down my neck raindroplets
trickle
dozing
on the lawn
St Swithans day-
large round spots splash into
my lap
missing
in action-
his memory
clipped to a bedroom
mirror
a kiss
an affair-
separation
drowns into memory's
abyss
the elk
cub misses
the herd's retreat-
a lone wolf howl calls to
the pack
splendour,
luxury
and much fine art-
in abstentia-the
gentry
a school
of dolphins-
on the starboard
a synchronised swimming
display
winter
turns to spring
high in the trees-
the rookery erupts
in noise
Roasted
chestnuts on
bonfire embers-
forties recollections
alight
smitten
by a smile
the warmth of love
engaged and now lives on
engraved
five toes
and a pad
imprint the snow-
hunger brings a stranger
at night
The limb elongates in the bodies flayed attempt at survival.
Internal struggle, intelligently struggling in the maintaining of oxygen in a Bold yet desperate display. Feeble gravities
Lunging, Lurching behind from within where wheels turn till a grasp,
grips a palm heavy & ten digits stick.
Heaven sent on Godspeed Hell-bound down to stand dim-witted, in await on the Devils' wing.
War-torn legless soldiers tip-toe down the shadow of death.
Then 'Battle Panthers' pounce sunk down well past dawn,
Commence the plan, sharp with a thin edge.
Approach them cold, except.
Accept, Blood flow in the shade of an Assault Machine.
Dust, sleep in those eyes.
Bloodshot and eyesores alike,
litter the land to become paint to my landscapes elicit bashfulness banished to the whitens life behind snowcapped eyes of the irrevocably blind.
Boulders retained locked in pain staking strain.
bare shoulders maintain Bolder in a crushing composure.
In the embrace of enemies,
On the eve' of deceit.
Decompress in a vacuum space, tight, beneath a new peak
a Zizith thread, a Zenith thread.
Found a home where the avalanches' onslaught shifts before rest.
"It's Murder on the Knees".
Got to try it sometime.
If not us then who?
If not now then soon.
Bold Favors; Bold Flavors.
IMAGE PHRASIS 1
Over the stubble,carrion crows,mist
blankets the hedge with fading leaves
where berries rot below the bramble.
As darkness slowly descends a heavy
frost whitens the ground,the daises
hang limp and old and the cold kills.
Nature blinks and shrinks.the yellowed
grass sleeps the landscape cloaked in
a shroud.Spiders cluster in weathered
straw,yellow leaves putrefy,daylight
hours fly stark sensations,simple,
abstract shapes lie as unerased words
in a litter of secret hopes.
From my Twist&Slant 2005
Listen to me recite this part phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthys chiro
THEY graze in beauty on the land
of grassy glades and dewy dales,
and all that's best of tamed and tanned
meets in their aspect and their tails;
thus softened with that tender hand
which Shepherd to mild glen compels.
One fleece the more, one spot the less,
had half-possessed the shearless grace
which wreathes in every woolen tress
that gently whitens o'er their face,
where eyes serenely sweet express
how pure, how dear their ovine race.
And on that rump, and o'er that round,
so firm, so strong, yet elegant,
the baas that win, the hooves that bound,
but tell of days in meadows spent—
a flock at peace with all around,
a drove whose milk is innocent.
The sun breaks through
brilliant bright in a sky of cloudy blue.
Wind racing in the trees
fallen leaves caught wild in the breeze.
Christmas and holidays now over
cold and repressed memories lie on my shoulder.
What a wondrous time of year
filled with rising hope and peace to demolish fear.
If only every day were joyous
but life is not always glorious.
As we age, the years slipped by much faster
as our skin dries and whitens like cold alabaster.
Yet, every step, every road we take
revealed the joy and sadness of this earthly race.
Today the sun, the wind, the sky
reminds me of how grateful I am to be alive.
Growing up in Ohio it was easy to find my Christmas spirit with the snow and cold within my reach…but after moving to Florida I wondered how I’d ever find my Christmas spirit in the warmth or on the beach.
Well I must admit despite my initial reservations…(yes, even I am stunned)
to discover there is that Christmas spirit…down here in the Florida sun.
It’s in a walk on the beach before the sun rises…for no matter which way you choose to go…the moonlight whitens the sand and you find yourself walking barefoot in the snow.
You quickly come to realize you’re not the only one enjoying a southern Christmas-land
as you pause to enjoy a snowman built completely out of sand.
For Christmas lights look to the stars in the sky…as they twinkle through the trees
or to their shimmering reflections they create upon the sea.
When the sun begins to peek over the horizon illuminating the sea and ground…
you find a million different ornaments strewn upon the ground.
Which makes you walk a little slower…more carefully through this ornament surprise…stopping every now and then to pick one up…to admire it’s color, shape or size.
You appreciate their beauty…how smooth they feels…each one a unique sight to see
then you place them back upon the sand…where nature intended them to be
A little further down the beach you marvel where the tide had visited before receding off the land…for in her wake she’s left behind rows of garland on the sand.
And you don’t have to walk very far…to find a topper for your tree
Your can choose between an angel in the clouds…or a starfish from the sea.
It turns out if you walk along the beach in December in Florida…
where your view is unimpeded…unobstructed…
you can find your Christmas spirit…in a Christmas deconstructed.
It’s not the Ohio Christmas I grew up celebrating…
but one walk along the beach makes it abundantly clear…
in Florida…a deconstructed Christmas…is one you celebrate all year.
Where have all the seasons gone?
The seasons of long ago
When summers were filled with sunshine,
The winters white with snow.
We now get snow at Easter,
Blistering hot days in September
Jack Frost whitens the days of May
There’s rain and floods in December.
The seasons are all topsy-turvy
Not just here at home, but abroad,
Scientists blame holes in the ozone layer
Christians, they say “it’s the lord”.
Are the winds of change due to rockets in space
And the building of hyper-stations
Or is it the hell, fire and brimstone
As foretold in the book of Revelations?
Whoever has the answer
There’s one more question needs asked
If the weather and seasons keep changing,
How much longer is man going to last?
colour
attracts a
bee here and there-
but fragrance stops it in
its tracks
over
the stubble
carrion crows-
the game-keeper heads home
for tea
August
shaded gold
becomes monsoon-
berries rot beneath the
bramble.
a drop
of water
upon the ground-
forever lost,without
a sound
inspired by 2 sam 14:14
Kisses
and cuddles
with whispered sounds-
love reciprocates
our need.
sunlight
on the tiles
dusted with snow-
rivulets overflow
the butt
dank fog
envelops
a bonfire night-
the party becomes a
damp squib
a thick
mist blankets
the winter dawn-
necklaced jewels bedeck
the hedge
a blue
plume curls from
the damp ashes-
yesterday's visions still
haunt me
the first
heavy frost
whitens the lawn-
overnight fall becomes
winter
muffled
bells echo
across the square-
sepia memories
surface
humid
canopy
of sultry days-
torrid tempers simmer
inside
A cinqku is an 'English language 'version of a tanka with 17 syllables 2;3;4;6;2
no title and last two(or three) lines being a surprise/comment on the first three
lines ie as in he American Cinquain of Adelaide Crapsey.Cinqku was created by American poet Denis Garrison
Find your fiercest and gentlest passions,
make them shine more than any stars
of the nocturne and mysterious sky;
is there a prodigious star of your destiny?
Whichever name you like to give it:
it'll be written in the book of eternity!
Everything withers and whitens from snow
approaching the winter of fading life,
it perishes on its oblivion and lethargy to declare
that our time has arrived to murmur the last words;
does it mean that your loving and devoted thoughts
of human kindness won't remain intact
in the conscious mind and in the fond heart
of whoever loved you for what you were?