Long Wind Poems
Long Wind Poems. Below are the most popular long Wind by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wind poems by poem length and keyword.
"Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand"
Capture the change as time goes by,
Capture every moment the day sculpts,
Archive moments that gladden the heart,
Let those that sadden the heart fly away.
Relish in nature’s embrace.
Open the windows of your chamber,
Disperse the gloom that pervades,
Exhale the turbulence that permeates,
Walk in the newness the day brings,
Bask in nature’s bloom.
Treasure glee moments,
The night comes to everyone,
Just as the sun has its sinking spell,
Take this meandering road,
It leads to redemption.
Listen to the symphony in the dancing wind,
See yourself with new eyes,
Speak to being the unseen that thrills,
Good times will wheel to us,
If we let our mind take its wheel.
Cyrus Neff
1842-1914
You will never find me and the missus,
Not back here amongst the roots and the scrubs!
We are among the forgotten dead of Mt. Olive Cemetery!
Our graves have disappeared, completely
Eaten away by time and rain and wind.
I bought these cheap graves in a potters field, my friends.
Mt. Olive is nothing more than a cheap graveyard,
Just a donated acre of Quaker farm land,
Given over to the community to bury the poor,
And the early dead; those poor pioneering souls,
Succumbing slowly to the poisons of diphtheria in 1887.
But we survivors are snoring away still, out here,
Behind this dense crowd of whispering walnut trees,
Which bend a little in the September wind,
And dutifully guard the grave of Greek George, over there.
Truth be known, me and the missus loved it here in Whittier.
We had a nice house on dusty Penn Street,
Over by the spreading Hybrid tree,
And enjoyed a brace of decades under the California sun,
Living, working, and then dying.
My friends, you are all invited to our graves,
The missus and me, well, you won’t find us here.
For we are now one with the roots and the scrubs!
But you are invited to come by, sit a spell,
And listen with us, the missus and me,
To the whispering voices of the walnut trees.
What devils inside me insisted
The weak shall be lead by the strong
A labour of love, torn and twisted
Oh! How can a life go so wrong
As I lie here, consumed by the silence
And the sound of your breath on the wind
While the rain pours, with sickening violence
Each teardrop as proof that I've sinned
A potion to end all the heartache
Lies cooking right there on a spoon
Drawn deep in the heart of a needle
Then flows like the blood of the moon
A love lies below, in the distance
The cruel light of dawn then awakes
Where emptiness holds no resistance
In a world filled with ladders and snakes
Sweet Jesus! I'm down on my knees
With barely the clothes on my back
Blinded by loss and disease
Blaming you Lord, for all that I lack
The screams of the angels they smother
The torment felt deep in my soul
This body lies crippled and broken
Subdued by the weight of its toll
Oh God if you hear me at all
Please forgive and forget my mistakes
Each step I take clouded by lies
In a world filled with ladders and snakes
How long, on the edge, can I live
An end is in sight, if I hurry
No sins nor no time to forgive
No hardship, no strife, nor no worry
Oh! Why is a picture so perfect
Only ever for others to make
While I live in the shadow of darkness
In a world filled with ladders and snakes
An ode to addiction...
I walked the path
worn and familiar
the wide open space
now overgrown and tight,
brushing against my shoulders;
the foliage dark emerald glistenings
of warm rain tapping on the leaves
slow and steady, fast and restless;
a rush of wind
gusting, tossing aside the growth
closing in from a night of rain;
new growth spurts release
honeysuckle vines stretching and curling
wrapping spindly to entwine the lilac
a panoramic view, leftovers of spring
greeting the summer storms;
gray skies disturbances suddenly alive
taking on a life all its own
threatening, challenging the status quo;
and I alone
walking slow along the path
cooled by warm droplets
waiting for the quiet lull
rest while walking in the rain.
She waits in a dream.
Stone clouds hang motionless, swallowing a star.
Millions of dull green blades dance to a false wind.
Dead flowers dot the horizon—
patches of absolute nothing.
How can a flower be void?
How can a sky be still?
Across the fields there is nothing.
A perfect array of lies.
Yet someone walks.
Her feet brush the grass, but it does not bend.
Her clothes refuse the wind.
Only her hair stirs.
Dark eyes, dark hair.
Pale skin, pale clothes.
She smiles, though I do not know her.
How can I miss someone I have never met?
Still, she smiles.
She waits in a dream.
Your warmth on a cold December day.
Always makes me shiver at your touch.
Dark clouds are ligher with you.
Cold sun made better with your beating heart.
As your eyes I longingly peer into.
The blackness of your pupils expands.
As I put my lips to yours and feel your hot breath exhale.
You murmur with excited antisipation.
My arms enfold your body holding you warm.
We part and inhale we are out of breath.
Laughing at the intimate kiss almost unto death.
So now we see the snow begins to fall,
Turning into tears on our wam skin.
As we walk along the floor gets slippery.
So we hold each other tighter and close.
We dont care as the wind begins to blow,
The snow is larger now. We better get home.
So we can cuddle up and enjoy the love.
An embrace to tease the heart
To make it flutter like a butterfly.
And all the while minds and spirits entwined.
Making our seperate lives sublimed.
Is it a dream or a reality with burden
do we know what we are with certain.
Two as one or one being two.
Will you always want me.
will I always be with you.
Only time will tell what is pure.
Alway I will be for the truth even if poor.
The stars revolve around me and you.
The moon so bright with a sun so dark.
And yet are naked love so stark
others will wish they were us.
We dont care for them we never make a fuss.
My commitment to you always will be
your blindness will forever see.
I am perfect for you, Thats all you need from me.
Till my last breath to my last thought.
There is a secret symphony in the whispers of the wind that caresses the earth,
a profound mystery hidden in the dance of trees bowing their leaves,
the ocean does not ask the moon why it pulls it with unseen force,
but we, made of stardust and dreams, seek answers in the shadows of time.
We ask the sky why the sun retreats into the abyss of night each evening,
why stars burn only to extinguish in the cosmic silence,
why hands part like waves from the shore.
But have you ever tried to catch the rain in your palms,
begging it to remain as an eternal memory?
Some things are meant to pass through us like the dream of a sleeping god.
Being alive is not about having stone-cold certainties,
nor being devoid of fears or feeling whole.
It is to dance in the moonlight knowing the music will stop,
to love like a flame, knowing hands will let go.
It is to walk through the fire of life and call it warmth,
to embrace the night as a river that holds the endless sea.
Why do we cry for the passage of time,
when time has never shed a tear for us?
You hold a moment in your palm and feel it dissolve into eternity,
you speak a name and its echo is lost in the abyss.
Life was never meant to be caught in chains—
only felt in the intensity of each moment and lived with an open heart.
Dawn does not bring promises written in stars, nor do waves make eternal vows,
the simple fact that you are here, breathing, is enough to create magic.
The universe owes you no meaning, but here you are—breathing, feeling, laughing.
You are the miracle you sought in the silence of endless nights.
Let your voice resound like a song of the wind even when it trembles,
let your hands create worlds even when they waver,
let your heart open like a night-blooming flower even when it fears the unknown.
What is the purpose of life if not to be touched by its mystery?
Hold the light tightly, even when the sun sets in the arms of night,
sing the melody of your soul even when your voice trembles under the weight of emotions.
For being alive does not mean to endure forever like a star,
but simply to exist, to feel deeply, to be part of the miracle of creation.
I hear them whisper your name,
those mighty winds that blow.
I know that you are close at hand,
the winds just told me so.
The direction from whence they blew,
I am not sure I know.
For only when I hear your name,
am I sure the winds did blow.
Caressing my face with a whisper...
calling out your name,
the winds of delight entice me.
I will never be the same.
I will follow the singing wind,
where it leads me I do not know.
For the winds that blew you from me...
will take me where I must go.
Upward into the hills,
calmly across the sea,
Hold on my love, I'm coming...
The wind has beckoned me.
Free to wander and search this earth,
no matter how far that may be.
Free to follow the whispering wind ...
until it blows me back to thee.
I hear your laughter on the wind.
I try with all my might,
to reach out and touch you
on this windy night.
You must be getting closer
for I feel your whispered love.
I reach out my hand to you,
please find me, my sweet dove.
You grasp my hand in yours
and softly speak my name,
out of the whispering winds
we are together again.
#13 Motivational Series
Thank you to all of those visiting my motivational series and leaving kind comments
Hearts So Pure
I walk with the sun on my back, following my shadow
Across icy patches, eyes watering, from cold wind as I go
By snowbanks above my head on the sides of the street
Where pavement is shining wet, beneath my feet
Then I turn around, with the sun shining on my face
My shadow follows me, through this beautiful place
My heart beats with strength, as I walk up the long hill
Faith stronger than ever within me, to follow God’s will
To shine in the coldest places that I may forever arrive
To never give up on what I believe, to continue to strive
You can do this too, for we all have a shadow
But without learning from the sun, we wouldn’t know
How to overcome the darkness, we all may endure
The choice to love always reachable, in our hearts so pure!
Heidi Sands
2/17/19
I wish to break through, to heal my soul with the whiteness of words,
But they hide in my shadow like shy animals.
My story is a forest where the echo of footsteps has been lost,
And my pain is the thin river that springs from the underground.
I could tell you how each moment has engraved storm carvings in the stones,
How the same wind that brings leaves in flight has stripped my trees bare,
I could weave before you the tapestry of bitterness, of helplessness,
To see your gaze skimming over the water of my story, not reaching the bottom.
I want to open Pandora's box of my heart and show you how each feeling is a myth,
How my gods and monsters fight in a bedding that does not sleep, a struggle smothered under a smile.
The unwritten story bleeds onto invisible pages, but the heart beats in a language foreign to the world.
It's an ocean, and each of my waves breaks the solitude of rocks into unheard whispers,
But you do not hear the symphony of the waves, you do not read the poetry of the rocks,
My horizons are aurora borealis on a sky too foreign for your eyes.
Here I stand, with a treasure of emotions drowning in my heart,
Sunk beneath the silent sands of my inner desert,
In search of a soul explorer, someone willing to unearth the relics of feelings.
My words get stuck, a melody in the throat that cannot find its way out,
It hurts in a murmured crescendo, a concert for which all are afraid to buy tickets.
And I sit - a library burning silently, its shelves unstudied, its flames unquenched.
I remain, with my story heavy as lead, waiting for the brush,
To draw upon the canvas of silence a fresco of understanding,
I am the source of a hidden river waiting not to dry up for the mouth of the sea,
I am a poem born in the twilight of a world that refuses to hear the magic of wise words.