Long Woodlands Poems
Long Woodlands Poems. Below are the most popular long Woodlands by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Woodlands poems by poem length and keyword.
How we miss those lovely, verdant scenes
of woodlands that framed our riversides;
rich, with hearty trees and creature life...
callously mowed down, destroyed
in name of progress and development...
deforestation...acres of lush trees,
and their creatures also now long gone;
territory lost by human cause.
They left; now stray into our yards,
exiled, hungry, have nowhere to go.
Once they roamed in nature's paradise,
now destroyed and cleared
for building mega-mansions on the shore.
Wealth...with loss of nature's gifts;
no mind, the killing of the trees...
sending animals to roam our streets.
Where do we find solutions?
What can we do to save earth's loss?
Protect our creatures' lives?
As long as money rules...there are none.
He ran the palm of his hand across the canvas,
Felt its soft, smooth surface, excellent fabric.
It was well primed with gesso, and he was sure
The end result would be an immortal masterpiece
The quintessential fragrance of daffodils,
a carpet of yellows in secluded woodlands,
new-born lambs on wobbly legs bleating for milk,
bees irresistibly drawn to luscious nectar.
male cotton less cottonwood trees flourish
as do the blooming peach trees erupting in fruit.
And birds flying here and there, chirping delightfully.
On one side a cottage, beautifully thatched,
with a rivulet wending its way from the water mill,
on the other, a bench beneath an alder leaf birch.
There sat a young maiden fair to behold,
on his knees was a young shepherd hand outstretched,
barely touching, proposing, as she smiles happily.
The painter looked satisfied. It had taken days
But finish it he did. The Museum would be satisfied.
After all weren’t all his vast landscapes immortal?
In a perishing forest of dry needles
Taxed with the fusion of dust and decay
In the times of climate change,
Where fire lay awaiting for its chance,
The first rain came
After many years of drought
Slight at first then gently falling
From a sky of mutable grey
The clouds gathered in communion
Painting a promise of what was to come
The trees stood tall and firm
Brittle in their height
Their roots pushed up from the arid ground
As though they were reaching to heaven
To touch the canopy of clouds filled with mercy
Raining down the promise of life
It was though the trees were crying
Plip-plop - their tears tumbling,
Echoing through the woodlands
Calling all the creatures to witness
This miracle of hope
That all had yearned for and abided with
These many thirsty years
Walking silently
My heart bestowed with gratitude,
I was sighing with the winds
Of thankfulness and change
My tears mingled with the earth below my feet
November 11, 2022
Inspiring Rainy Days Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet
We know the soft night light that glows
Aren't lightening bugs, but fairies who
Live in different places
Suspended with butterflies and flowers
Are always outdoors.
There are many races
And tribes who do interface
Some were friends to Dumbledore.
We know the soft night light that glows
Aren't lightening bugs, but fairies who
Live in different places
Like the woodlands, underground, by
Lakes, hills, stone, and in grass circles
Really it means any where could be their
Home base.
They're enchanted, magical, mysterious
Beings and if your going on a journey it
Is wise to have one before you deplore.
There are many races
They come in various sizes and shapes
Good luck trying to find their hiding place,
In any case
There are places to explore.
We know the soft night light that glows
Aren't lightening bugs, but fairies who
Live in different places
Like England, Norway, Ireland, Iceland and
Scotland is their common place to embrace
Their fairylore.
Hopefully we will find their place and meet
Face to face
So friends we can be evermore.
We know the soft night light that glows
Aren't lightening bugs, but fairies who
Live in different places.
There are many races.
This gypsy soul is on the road
It leaves castles far behind
It abandons ghostly mist
which sabotages the caravan of life
It passes along the mountainside
by golden hay fields where daises bloom
By streams of waters which sweeps a withered rose
towards the decayed lumber fume
This gypsy soul is on the road from Edinburgh to Loch Lomond
against high winds,against the rain,against aquatic monsters of pain
This gypsy soul is on the road to the woodlands of your heart
where I would camp inside your tent as our blissful thoughts impart
This gypsy soul within myself and all the woman in me
would wantingly await your fingertips to compose soft pastels'fantasy
The smell of early coffee then fills our empty cups
The song of the cicada would echo in the shrubs
And as the chimney smoke drift sideways in the breeze
as warm dappled light filters through purple pansy leaves
The pressing of my lips would leave their crimson mark below your sun-kissed cheek
My arms would cling around your once muscular physique
We laze upon a hammock strung between two old oak trees
I play on your guitar my hundred melodies
As the incandescent half moon rises above the dusky hue
and orange paper lanternes float high in cobalt blue
We'd chase the opalescent glow of a million firefly
You'd be able to touch me before last embers die
This gypsy soul is on tne road in search to be set free
Across bridges on a journey,your compass -my destiny.
This is a repost of a poem I've written the 30th of April 2014
Ontario in Iroquois is-
Kanadario meaning sparkling water
the British claimed the land
under the approval of the Queen
148 years ago
well all that is another story
Ontario became a province of Canada
in 1867
a land of rivers and lakes and wild forests
the flag of Ontario has only been flying
since 1965 -
red background
British Union Jack in upper left corner
and Provincial Coat of Arms of Ontario on fly half
it is a symbol of our identity
and the history of Ontario's British heritage
our forever relationship with the Queen
the vastness of Ontario is breathtaking
the most amazing in my life
travelling to Hudson Bay's far north
mostly still untouched and pristine
did you know that the Ontario's flower
is the white trillium
found in woodlands
it follows the sun across the sky
our motto is loyal she began loyal she remains
the Ontario flag flies proudly beside the Canadian flag
a magical beautiful sight shining boldly
on any important building you will find her beauty
blazing in the sun
fluttering in the wind rain and snow
a symbol of pride
______________________________
July 10, 2015
Free Verse
Written by Broken Wings
For the contest, Tell Us About Your State Flag, sponsor, Judy Konos
First Place
I believe that long ago, the universe’s most artistic landscaper
mixed woodlands with tropics, rock formations with mountains,
volcanic craters with lush valleys, and cascading waterfalls with
pristine still waters before blending all with an ocean and
topping it off with sunshine. Man named this place, Hawaii.
The absolute awe that defines Hawaii, is bound to awaken
any slumbering faith and rejuvenate any emotion grown numb
to the brilliance of life. While visiting the Islands of Hawaii, I
absorbed a joy and wonder from the plants that delightfully
startled my own routine senses. I have been blessed in my life
to personally view beautiful and eye-catching plant life in many
regions of the world. In Hawaii, the plants adorning and tending
the islands are the most dramatic, glorious and enchanting that
my vision has ever drunk. There is an otherness to Hawaiian flora
that suggests plants are empowered with the ability to uplift,
stimulate and captivate even the most withdrawn human vision.
entrancing colors
paint a wonderland terrain ~
landscaped free of charge
bodacious flora
thrives in hawaii's landscape ~
no mute legs walk there
Turquoise blue glittering water of a mountain lake
Showing activities of various fish with their grace
Efficient floating of exultant duck families through their loveliness
Reflections of surrounding views’ brilliant displays
Narrow dirt trail weaving through thick green woodlands
Giant rocks and peaks stand tall with wide open arms
Varieties of massive firs and pines pack nearby land
Colorful sprays of delicate wild floras on adjacent track
Opulent grandness of Mother Nature’s majestic charm
Bursts of sweet melodies of birds’ songs
Awe-inspired heart filled with immense joy
Cheerful mind and awareness at large
Downtown Dayton cityscape
can be seen clearly (on a clear day)
from the grassy knoll on top
of the Woodlands cemetery.
Most of the more fancy mausoleums
face any other way though,
as if the successfully dead
had prospered and were now
disinterested in local legends.
The bones of great men and women
are restless here however,
they turn over the decades,
pull time over their skulls
like overly stuffed quilts.
They won't look now
at that once prosperous and inventive city
they are done with fame
but on a clear night
the city lights illumine
their sad spirits
as they dream of the degradation
of their once industrious history,
watch the unfolding decay of their works
one dirty, burned-out city block
at a time.
Written: July 24, 2024 For Canstance La France Contest
Quote: "the drums of time have ceased
and my fragile soul is a sea of tears" By Constance la France
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Along a scarcely hidden wooded trail
the sun is going to set in the north
with hawks and ancient oaks as companions
wandering in silence, I pursue my quest
the world shines brightest in ivory twilight
lush mossy sticks
to the soothing granite
winged sparrow rushes toward its perch
yet, amid the stillness,
I feel utterly lonesome...
these woodlands contain historic forest
their stems provide a comfortable resting place...
they wrap around me, with such loving fingertips...
when my brain gets flooded
with pessimistic pondering...pondering...
while roaming in quietness, I chase my quest
passion for life is beating in my chest.
yet, I am solely lonesome in this stillness
I meditate quietly in that spot
behold meticulously groomed crawl
among hues and patterns,
calmly lounging...
I am riveted by their charm and ferocity
they opt not to challenge their rights...
neither sigh nor sorrow
under meaningless weights
I acknowledge the blessings upon their humble beings.
still, I am utterly isolated
in this quietness...quietness...
thus, when the tide of negativity
doubts and concerns have crested...
and profound dread
has penetrated me to the bone
following that path
I fulfill my soul's wish.
I am completely alone in this darkness.