Long Wist Poems
Long Wist Poems. Below are the most popular long Wist by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wist poems by poem length and keyword.
I am....POET
Looking at me through the eyes of a child,
Always makes my smile seem bright.
No bigger view will let you see better than that,
The heart will find what the eyes reject.
--------------------o0o-----------------------
I grew to love the writing skill when I was really small,
Telling what I felt inside could show me what to know.
Someday I will grow up big and write a story too,
Let people read and wonder free what has become of me.
--------------------o0o-----------------------
Living at the edge of town with no one`s company,
Far away places and open spaces where I want to go.
I live a quiet life with only birds to humor me,
Hermit is my name and that`s what I became.
--------------------o0o-----------------------
Sitting at the ocean looking at the sea.
Far across the waters, that`s where I want to be.
Thinking of a perfect life far away in paradise,
Changing dreams to schemes may someday let me leave.
--------------------o0o-----------------------
Who I was growing up and who I become today,
Was reading books and find the words to show the easy way!
Learning what was post inside to use with all my wist,
Will one day help me grow up fast to reach my bucket-list.
--------------------o0o-----------------------
Look up at the stars tonight to see the faces there,
Each one is a silent soul whose destiny I share.
All my closest family are faceless as can be,
Four little blinking stars will wink right back at me.
--------------------o0o-----------------------
If you want to know my name and why I play this game,
I learned this skill to find a way to show you who I am,
Reading all the posted lines will show you if you look.
One day you will see my name printed neatly on a book
--------------------o0o-----
Now obvi
us is what this poem is about
Dancing fur the last time
if God exist get ready
here i come
i will take the loon way round
can't imagine my anger
no stop would make
when you realise this it not for you
My secrets
squirreled plain as the noose on my
face it
never fit to see your grace
remove the good its starting to hurt the badder
rest your eyes
Good then you wont
see whats next
she was holding back the dark
what if the big rip
is someone hurt so much
he ends everything
literally rips reality apart
what if that's....
all folks........me
writing bibles of dust
that caught the space
as sunlight slipped her con
tours of seconds
if you think of thought twice is that second thought
address the redness embarassed by shout south with thou's
I loved you since i saw you
but i don't think you
new to me
i love misteaks
Annooying with an extra ooh
look at hymn
Thats starting to piss me aff
my head
looking for the wet paint to touch
join lemmings at the
back of my
mind the
step back
i;m the only thing keeping this maniac
Back to life
turned my
lies inside
now the truth can't
just bants
a different s
-------------------l
------------------------a
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----------------------------------t wist a tngoue
R---------------------------------- ------------------------
----a============================e when i coud
---------i------------------------- -----------------l
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-----------------e----------------- ---------m
------------------------a---------- ------s
did anybody lose an ------l
from further length
Upon these craggy hills, I sit and in wonderment, I stare
Gods beauty is reflected everywhere
thundering surf crashing below
It's Thomas Hardy's world we know
The limestone rock formations
Millions of years the transformation
Under the sea, they lay until the continents collided
And here they stand in awe, magnificently divided.
The Jurassic coast of Dorset
Lulworth Cove its corset.
On ancient hills, my feet now trudge
I give myself a needed nudge
A little further up the hill
I feel a sudden eerie chill
The ghost of Thomas Hardy in our midst
Least I fool you with my wist.
I walk upon these craggy hills
The ocean below its froth it spills
How much longer, my feet are aching
The suns come out and I am baking.
A little further, a little more
Around the corner awaits Durdle Door
I punch my fist up in the air,
What I see below is rare.
Durdle Door the famous arch
I reached it finally. I am parched.
I snap the pictures in disbelief
There it stands like a commander in chief
The arch looks like a dinosaur
The thunderous waves roar with encore
My eyes hug the cliffs along the coast
The Atlantic Ocean blue, the sky reflecting in its hue
A ship in the distance is sailing
I must make my visit brief Adele and the dogs are waiting
I quench my thirst with much-needed water
I should have made her come, I should have brought her.
The snaps and video will have to do
I loved my trip down the Jurassic coast and so will you.
The world that once was slumbering
Beneath the quilt of Winter's snow
Is now set free to gladly see
The rays of golden sunlight
He peeks at first so shyly through
The drifting clouds of leaden grey
And then, behold his beams of gold!
A kiss of gentle sunshine
The trees are budding, flowers bloom
And shades of gentle green abound
The birds of spring so sweetly sing
While kissed by rays of sunlight
How father-like the sun looks down
In glorious warmth and light
To see the things his fire brings --
The miracle of sunshine
From east to west he travells on
In grandly royal golden robes
A pilgrim man, that once began
Benignly sending raylets
As here I watch th'unfolding spring
And bask in beams of heaven's king
I think of monarchs, once divine
Whose wond'rous kingdoms once did shine
This sun hath missed not one poor soul
But fondly with a tender touch
Hath kissed the maids that dwelt in glades
Of distant lands now vanished
Now all, I think, once gently kissed
Have sung the praise of heaven's rays
And all, it seems, that Sun hath wist
Have tracked his run throughout their days
His rhythmic climb and equal fall
While heeding Nature's firmest call
His constant change, yet still the same
When once returned from whence he came
A mystery, a miracle
At times a friend, at times severe
But each new day at Dawn's approach
Reveals the kiss of sunshine
I OPENED A DOOR OF GOLD AND SILVER.
SOMEWHAT SURPRISED AND SOMEWHAT BEWILDERED.
FLOATING IN AIR AND TURNING SLOWLY
GAVE IT A PRESENCE OF BEING HOLY
THIS WAS A SWORD OF BRILLIANT DESIGN.
I THOUGHT TO MYSELF "I WISH IT WERE MINE"
FIVE FEET IN LENGTH AND TWELVE POUNDS IN WEIGHT.
I EXAMINED IT CLOSER TO DETERMINE A DATE.
A GOLDEN THROWN ENCRUSTED WITH GEMS.
DIAMONDS AND RUBIES AND PLENTY OF THEM.
ENGRAVING. EMBROIDERING AND MAGNIFICENT WIST.
THIS WAS CRAFTED BY A BRILLIANT GOLDSMITH.
CEREMONIAL OR RELIGIOUS I ASKED MYSELF.
WAS THIS CREATED FOR SOMEONE OF WEALTH.
A HEAVENLY VOICE STARTED TO SPEAK.
MORE LIKE A TEACHER WILLING TO TEACH.
BORN IN THE YEAR FIVE EIGHTY EIGHT,
ELIGIUS GREW UP AND WENT ON TO BE GREAT.
A MASTER CRAFTSMAN, THE GREATEST GOLDSMITH.
CRAFTED THIS SWORD YOU SEE EXIST.
HIS WORK CAN BE SEEN ON TOMBS OF SAINTS.
CAPTURED ON CANVAS BY CHRISTUS THE GREAT
HE WOULD GO ON TO HELP THE POOR.
HE FOUNDED CHURCHES AND SO MUCH MORE.
AFTER HIS DEATH HE WAS CONSIDERED A SAINT.
SHOWN AS A BISHOP BY THOSE WHO PAINT.
THE LECTURE WENT ON, LONG INTO THE NIGHT.
I FOUND THAT JOURNEY TO BE A DELIGHT.
There is something about eighteen wheelers,
For most of us can only wonder.
A trucker is respected to the up most,
From the east to west coast.
Oh demand to get to their destination,
Wist no hesation.
Only the strong will go the long haul,
They have no time to stall.
The endurance they have to keep on going,
In order to maintain what their hauling.
Keeping the peddle to the metal,
Across plains, bypasses, and meadows.
The sparkle you can see in their eyes,
Trucking is what they enjoy in their lives.
Meeting new people on the road,
While hauling that heavy load.
Oh what stories they have to tell,
And do it so very well.
For what I say, is what I have seen,
Becuase my husband is one of these.
A wife who knows the truth in their heart,
Someone that's been there from the start.
Never to tell how alone and scared I maybe,
Trucking is what they love and desire that's plain to see.
So for all those truckers out there,
Stay alert and aware.
Theres someone special waiting at home,
Calmly waiting by the phone.
Families who love and cares for all of you,
And ask the Lord to be with you too.
WAR OF LILIES AND OF ROSES
Lilies white, blushing with red roses sweet
A lily-rose fair, unstained, Rome's virtuous Lucrece
Of beauty so strong, even in desire, men doth retreat.
Sextus Tarquinius vile with the lust that men enclose
Defiant, would defile, such a flawless rose
Unable to repose his swelling desire
Enraged by her beauty, to merely admire
Nympholeptic he, to acquire
Lucrece of the rose rubbed cheeks and lily white face
In lust Sextus Tarquinius wist wilt and debase
And force open lily white thighs
deified
he
defiled
she
To wrench such peddles enclosed
Ravaging such a sacred lily, rose
eros
sore
bled
Till white stained red, both thigh and bed
Leaving such a sweet flower torn, alive
So, polluted, no longer chaste, she with dagger neat
Did drive sharp between her bosom's blossom, sweet
Which did anoint red the sheet
Roses spilled; lilies retreat.
Death be sweet and release
Rome's sweet Lucrece
Finishing Line Press. Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com
October now is on its way;
November mists are here to stay.
With mornings dark and damp and drear
The wintry blast is ever near.
Welcome to November.
A mournful mist entombs the trees.
All is still – no hint of breeze.
Like soup the mist lies in the vale;
All colours bleached, pastel and pale.
Mysterious November.
A melancholy haunts the wood
As desperate thrushes hunt for food.
Sadness drips from skeletal twigs
And blackbird in the dead leaves, digs.
Deep and dark November.
But sunbeams slanting through the mist
Bring joy and hope of Spring, I wist.
Three months to bear the Winter's worst
Before the first Spring blossoms burst.
Hopeful in November.
The “dainty lady's” lost her gown,
For every leaf there's only down.
The beech mast on the forest floor
And hedgerow bright with hip and haw.
Time of change, November.
Such stunning colours, rich and mellow :
Deep red and orange, brown and yellow.
With “mellow fruitfulness” aglow –
Sweet chestnut, hawthorn, spindle, sloe.
Colourful November.
.
will ya
come thuh
on
page
wist
me
we'll pagez
dust
wit'n ourn
us
roam
az nun
*In Aramaic, "nun" specifically
means "fish"
*wist; merriam-webster.com: *edvard ask'n thuh her to collaborate
archaic:get to know 'pon his slip thinks ')
*wit; merriam-webster: 1c; humor
poetic think
Beautiful picturesque soft glowing light
against the darkness, whilst burning shooting
star catapult through the sky in its flight.
Spinning fine idyllic thread flow, moving.
In mine heart, I evoke the narrative
wist of our youth. An inexhaustible
love; now lost in the waning sedative
silence of farewell and exhaustible.
Once devoured by his fathomless green eyes,
crave the dark blond hair full of spiral curls.
Lost to his ebbing wave of silent cries
left breathless like flittering glint of pearls.
Birds hymn lull mine into weightlessness sleep;
whilst echoes always brings you back to keep.
2/22/2020
Poetry Contest: Writing Prompt - Ten Words 2. Love
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
thread, heart, silence, hair, beautiful, dark, green, birds, fathomless, breathless