Long Winds Poems
Long Winds Poems. Below are the most popular long Winds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Winds poems by poem length and keyword.
In God's fertile earth the American farmer casts the seeds,
To grow the grain to meet the hungry world's needs.
From the good earth springs forth a bountiful cornucopia,
Of good things to feed the starving in places such as Ethiopia!
Oft I have pondered who discovered the essential element of fire.
Was it a cave person who witnessed the lightning setting a tree afire?
"Warm" thanks to the feller who burned his fingers to keep an ember alive!
Sans fire to warm our feet and broil our steaks, how would we survive?
We know not from whence cometh the wind nor whence it goeth!
But how we relish the soothing sound of a zephyr as 'mongst the trees it floweth!
In ages past, billowing winds drove sailing ships across the raging seas.
Today, wind power is so useful as other energy sources it doth ease!
Water, water everywhere but is it pure and safe to drink?
Mankind must save it from pollution, you would really think!
From the operation of the mighty Hoover Dam to a single glass of water,
'Tis necessary for our survival and we must conserve it - we really oughter!
We've squandered our precious rescources over the course of time.
Perhaps 'tis time to rethink the matter or our lives won't be worth a dime!
Entry for Barbara Gorelick's "The Four Elements" Contest
Alone the bones of the room
bear no weight of responsibility
nor does it bare its breast of secrets
a broken pane
provides a breath with a pang of lavender
a wistful inhale
inhabits the lungs of this space
as the room tries to embrace...
oh embrace the breathing breeze
to squeeze a semblance of life into this place
but the breeze— a gypsy whisper-warm
needs freedom to come through and sweep-swirl
sun-dust into whirls of pinprick-stars...
then leave softly recede not beholden to bones
stoic and standing still
not beholden to dust stranded midair
only to fall in despair— abandoned
with less a good-bye
as bygone laughter and lullabies
are held on lath-tongues
behind horsehair plaster walls
but mute memories linger
they mingle in fairy dust like fireflies in dusk;
her May-time suckling coos and her mama’s ooohs
the woes and throes of Winter’s rocking chair nights
a weep of April tears and seep of mud puddles thawed
the reborn dust lifted with green summer breezes
—a colored canvas that minions of time
would rather gesso white
in its bones the room
remembers its worth as a womb
nurturing a baby’s breath
beneath blue-skin-skies
where rows of purple spires grow
till Mistral winds blew hard and cold
and flew her lavender soul
far from her earthly home
oh the loss of life
wind-crashing-seas-onto-rocks
loss of life
skeleton-ribs-of-the-crib-stripped
of-her-lavender-sprig
loss of life
He trudged the woods aimlessly.
The birch trees were devoid of leaves.
Cruel winds blew and wrecked havoc.
He did not even gather the twigs that fell,
Little caring what warmth they would shed when lit.
His body trembled with icy atmosphere.
Alas he woke up too late.
But now with spring, he feels the warmth again.
Something burns in his heart.
He is determined to find her.
Easier said than done.
He asks for her but receives cold shoulders.
Then he remembered she often worked on a mountain resort,
During the warm days of spring and summer.
So up he went hoping against all hope.
But she was there, a smile on her face.
“The usual dry red wine?” she asked.
“Of course, laced with a kiss.”
Oh those cursed Ides of the 15th
they brought Julius Caesar death
the soothsayers warning unheeded
mamuralia chased beaten out of city
His clothes animal skins and rags
they set about this scapegoat with glee
hitting him with large wooden sticks
once he was driven out feasting began
All the while in natures ways
comes the madness of march hare
watch as they circle the fields
frequently stopping to box
All this to attract a mate
or is it just wind up their tails
be as may the sight one that stirs
and those mad winds bluster and roar
March arrives full of fury roaring displeasure
and soon is time to sacrifice the Ides Sheep
to bring forth Spring on the vernal equinox
and wave goodbye as march leaves like a lamb
This year the vernal equinox is not on my birthday but on the 20th
Vernal Equinox heralds in spring and the poor Mamuralia is an old man dresses in skins
making him a scapegoat traditionally beaten out of the city to kill off evil the 15th of march
is the date of Caesar s death as foretold to him by a soothsayer
A spirit flies alone there's no love true without saying goodbye
soul searching deeply without sacrifice your gone
walking golden sands inside the heart all wars are won
Hand in hand slowly strolls on golden sands footprints left
as you're daylight played warm tricks our destiny ties us beyond
put under one spell lost in lonely you one beautiful memory
Drowning inside your Heaven drifting faraway tears
to hear the winds breathless whisper softly howls out your name
holding you dream magic as your voice enters feelings flow
An aura of beauty appeared within reality coloring a rainbow
or was it just a figment of imagination never existing
strung along believing in something real
Salted from the deep ocean waves crashing currents
rising emotions turning tides weeping is it wrong for me in the scrapyard
among'st twisted metal to want to hold you love one last time
(Terza Rima in unrhymed Tercet poetic format)
The blizzard is gaining strength,
the frozen pond is turning white,
trees bend and frightened shallows hide;
I put a yardstick into the freezing snow,
bend forward and measure its length:
ah, it reaches up to my knees, what a stride
to be buried into tons of snow...
while blizzardous winds blow!
I shout, " I don't wish for snow on my birthday,
it'll fall on the sixth of February! " But the weather
is inclement, should I make a plea
with Nature trading my gifts for no snow? Has anybody
ever asked for this and got rejected? I would surely
get mad if she didn't listen or agree,
I might be even trickier than her:
get a snowblower and send it away!
Remember when you learned to ride a bike…how the world was all brand new?
Have you ever stopped to think about the all the changes you went through?
Close your eyes…think back..remember how it feels…
You started on a tricycle...then a bicycle with training wheels
Then came the day that changed your world, we all must face them as we grow
The day you knew it was time...for the training wheels to go.
Remember Dad or Mom running behind you; hearing their encouragement…their groans…remember seeing them in the distance…you were riding on your own!
At that moment you were alive and you thought...this bike riding is a piece of cake.
till you remembered they taught you how to ride but forgot to teach you how to brake.
It turns out life is a series of changes we experience along the way
for, like it or not, everything is changing, every second, every day.
Of course we are aware of this...but once in a while we’re a little more attuned
like when Sunday merges into Monday or May turns into June.
And every now and then we take a moment from our normal circadian climb
to think about the changes we’ve encountered within the passages of time.
A baby changes daily and in no time at all is learning how to crawl
as quickly as the summer breezes give way to the winds of fall.
We blink and that crawling baby is a child, then a teenager on the go
as quickly as the falling leaves of autumn turn into winter snow.
Blink again and that teenager becomes an adult with all the responsibilities that brings.
as quickly as the winter snow lifts revealing the flowers…the colors of spring.
Change engulfs us, it’s inevitable...and though we may not understand why
without it…not one caterpillar would become a butterfly?
Since life will not slow down for us no matter how we’ve tried
I think learning to ride a bike has helped prepare us for the ride.
After all we need to keep pedaling to stay balanced, we learn from our mistakes,
we feel joy knowing we can ride and knowing when to hit the breaks.
“Oh that’s ridiculous! How can riding a bike prepare us for life?” you laugh…perhaps you scoff…
It’s simple really, it prepares us for all those days…
when our training wheels come off.
Sweet Daphne Odora
Beneath midwinter’s misty veils of rain and snow
Sweet Daphne Odora thrives
Evergreen when silver winds bid Orion return
Winter’s child blooms through short days and lingering nights –
Harbinger of crocus and of snowdrops –
Deep green spear shaped leaves edged in yellow -
Prophetic sign of spring sunshine –
Like a delicate bridal bouquet
Offers dainty nosegays in clusters
Of iridescent white satin or silky pink
Edged in royal purple robes,
A January Valentine
When icicles drip with midwinter tears,
Peeks through the icy breath of frozen air
Spreads a perfume intoxicating and unforgettable
Superstar of the barren season –
Finicky and feisty
Warrior of the bleak winter garden
Sweet Daphne Odora!
3/12/21
Contest: Flower or Flowers in Imagism
Sponsor: Constance La France
I have a slavery folktale of my own
I am Mae Rock, and I was once a slave
Always taught being black you must behave
How did I get the name Mae Rock?
I was named for Unbreakable, Unstoppable and Strong as a Solid Rock
The Plantation owner named me that for that very reason
I would often rebel after being beaten and refused the plantation ways
I knew I had to getaway
During those slavery years, you would find me reading the word and praying morning, Noon and night
One slavery night, I tried to escape
I crossed the river that was in South Carolina on state line heading for North Carolina
Ever so close leading to the North
When morning came, the plantation owner discovered I was gone
They had their dogs to track my scent and foot prints, but because I went through the river, they loss total track of me
I was determined to never go back to the plantation nor slavery live again
Sometimes I would tire, but knew I had to push on with all inner strength I could muster
The Lord guided me throughout my journey
I met fellow slaves along the way
In my Southern Draw is all I knew
I encouraged the other slaves to make their way North and escape to Freedom
Mae Rock’s words were, “You have to live and breathe as any person walking this Godly Earth. The Heavenly skies spells “Freedom”. The ways of the oppressed plantation owners could no longer being tolerated”
Suddenly a crack of Thunder, Flash of Lightning came along with the pouring rain and a rush of the mighty winds
It was decreed at that very moment that all slaves had to be free
It was as if that was God’s decree, and he had spoken
Freedom came loud and strong
All the slaves knew where they belonged
Head North for a better life
Mighty and true
Success in pursue
Mae Rock’s Legacy for generations to come, “Live out your dreams with spirit and destiny. Be true to yourself and to others. Don’t ever be silent, but always vocal. Time will come in your favor, but you must believe”
A Slavery Folk song says “Dance before the Lord as he is the melody through circumstance, and breaks all barriers. Enrich your mind and voice on one accord. It’s assurance that comes from the Lord”
O'Sweet immutable night, come and embrace me, for it is because of great vexation that I have communed with my heart and soul.
O'Sweet immutable night, it is with true sorrow of the iniquity and vanity done under the sun that I seek the comfort of the night to be consoled.
O'Sweet immutable night for it is my languishing heart that I wish to escape the pollution of the evil inflicted spoils of mankind.
O'Sweet immutable night, propitiate my mangled mind.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not my weary soul be susceptible to the failings of another day of limitless debauchery.
O'Sweet immutable night, I beseech you to claim my yearning spirit with your compelling offer of release so that in my inwardly pining I will be free.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not my flesh again feel the burning desires of the sun.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not my eyes see, nor my ears hear the suffering of the weak in this world of rigorous agony being spun.
O'Sweet immutable night, let my burning compassion for justice cool under the unceasing comfort of generosity.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not another day that my body be a sapling bending to the implacable winds of injustice and atrocity.
O'Sweet immutable night, let the flesh of my body fall to the dry earth and not under the sun.
O'Sweet immutable night, let it be done let it be done.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not the memories of affliction impede me from this good night.
O'Sweet immutable night, let me rest here for the sunder of the holy rapture and the holy night.
copyright 2017Looking At The Light From The Bottom Of The Lake.