Long Yearnings Poems
Long Yearnings Poems. Below are the most popular long Yearnings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Yearnings poems by poem length and keyword.
Women look at us with haunting eyes,
Quiet depths where dreams swing, scattered gems,
What do we seek, perhaps, among rays and shadows, to embrace the dawn?
On pathways hidden beneath leaves, where love is whispered in the rustle of the wind.
Women gaze at us with velvety eyes,
Deep seas where yearnings swim, shining pearls,
What do we sway for, among waves and shells, to gather treasures?
On golden sands, where love rises within sea foam.
Women regard us with mother-of-pearl eyes,
Blue skies where dreams fly, glittering stars,
What do we desire, to soar among clouds and birds, toward the sun?
On wings of wind, where love is sung in the song of a zephyr.
Women watch us with eyes of fire,
Blazing volcanoes where passions ignite, consuming flames,
What do we search for, among lava and ash, to warm our hearts?
On cliffs of fire, where love melts in the glow of a volcano.
Women stare at us with eyes of ice,
Eternal snows where desires freeze, cooling crystals,
What do we wish for, among flakes and snowfall, to cool our souls?
On floes of ice, where love freezes in the chill of winter.
Women look at us with honeyed eyes,
Green fields where feelings blossom, fragrant flowers,
What do we search for, among wheat and poppies, to sweeten our life?
On meadows of honey, where love revives in the dew of the morning.
Women behold us with eyes of clay,
Fertile lands where emotions take root, ripened fruits,
What do we wish for, among furrows and seeds, to nourish our body?
On fields of clay, where love is nourished by the sap of the earth.
Women observe us with eyes of gold,
Holy temples where mysteries are kept, hidden treasures,
What do we search for, among columns and statues, to worship the goddess?
On altars of gold, where love prays in the silence of prayer.
Women look at us with eyes of dreams,
Fantastical worlds where magic happens, astonishing wonders,
What do we long for, among fairy tales and legends, to live out our story?
In realms of dreams, where love occurs in the enchantment of a spell.
The Long Last Summer’s Past
By David J Walker
The shrilled ring of the
School bell
Was the first call of
The last days of another
departed summer
The boys laced on new
Tennis shoes
The girls tried on
New dresses
The sleepy heads of those
Who could not sleep , who could not
Keep their eyes closed in
Anticipation of the first day of classes
The farm like crop-rows of kids
In school yards
Forming lines of covens of
Familiar faces
It was all a tradition of
The next Fall
And the comfort of
A needed belonging
And now,
So far away from that place
In a distant time
And space
There is a longing
To again line up by class
And nervously giggle
In the voices of children
Singing the anthem
Pledging allegiance
Proclaiming AMEN to
A prayer
That begins another
Day of learning
The yesterdays of
Schoolboys and schoolgirls
And daydreams of
Natural yearnings
Of the long last
Summers past
Psalm 23:5 (KJV) 5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
~~~
I’ve been asked, in friendly modes,
Is the glass half full or is the glass half empty?
For me, I know – I’ll ever know…
My glass is half full – my cup runneth over,
Flowing gently, with blessings I can’t begin to name,
Blessings so abundant – they put my doubts to shame,
They cause my heart to abide in the center…
Of gratitude, gratefulness and thanks,
For all the wonders that He brings – with this liquid,
His anointing oil, flavored with grace
And stirring hope within me.
I’ve been asked, in heartfelt incredulity,
Is the glass half full or is the glass half empty?
I don’t have words for the music in my heart,
Music brought to life by the colors of His light,
The hues of soundless beauty, the hope
It grows and grows, like the liquid love – devotion,
So phantastic – I know it’s everlasting,
Rousing my dreams, my yearnings, my wishes,
So that, even though mysterious,
I know what it is to discover the blessings in giving,
Pieces of my spirit, fluid motions of insight,
Wisdom from the peace that flows softly inside of me.
I’ve been asked, in whispers from my past,
Is the glass half full or is the glass half empty?
And, my truth…
He has blessed my heart and soul with His anointing,
And as it flows over my hopes, my thoughts,
There is no doubting, His love is forever calming,
Coloring me in joy, melodies of His solace,
Preparing me for the struggles that will come,
Silencing all the doubts that linger on,
Creating, inside me, assurance that, whatever I face –
I have no reason to fear because I share in His grace,
I know the love that prepares the way,
I know the light that reflects the God we praise…
God, who is my reason for thanks, my promise,
Yes, my cup runneth over – I’m so thankful I know Him!
Shepherd boy sinks in deep ardent amour
with RUSTIC farmer girl as valentine.
Pure : not SYNTHETIC though not in glamour.
Budding love unfolding petals to shine.
Passion to EMANATE to spark and glow.
Emerald emotive urge starts SWIRLING.
Dormant dreamy desires run on free flow.
Girl is dancing delight, her dress twirling.
Cowboy plays flute in mellifluous tune.
Romance to BLOSSOM in two wobbling hearts.
Twilight fading, Sun will be setting soon.
Young lovers think, never to be apart.
TIMELESS flow of love ripples in SILENCE.
Yearnings tangling, may be in ILLUSION.
Rhythmic dance and tune of flute in cadence.
Boy and girl praying for their unison.
Over the Middle Passage of Time
(Apropos of Trials and Triumphs)
In the crypt of the ocean’s deep
Lay ivory bones
Of screaming ebony souls
Drowned in due seasoned journeys
Across middle passage sojourns
Of pilgrim’s progress
Yoking labor in the wrinkles of the earth
From the fresh dawn to the tired dust thereof:
Nothing fertilizes like wet sweat and dried blood.
When the instructive tongues of ancestors
Tap at the door of attentive ears
Spirits scale skyscraper yearnings of home
Parachuting shackles of mind and body
Drifting in earthy fields of rusty ways;
No, the last supper will not be here.
The lit torch illuminates the new summons;
The passage of time forgives but never forgets;
The Supreme Master of the Universe spills His cup
Into the Saucer of which we now sip:
Because of His amazing grace, we shall not
Sup the tainted bastard blue blood of disgrace.
COLD
Me sinking in cold !
Need little warmth.
Why have you been so cold ?
Hold your tongue
and let me love !
Why have you been so cold ?
My is already sold
to my amour !
Now all hope is gone .
Pretending to be bold !
But feeling cold even under Sun.
Need little warmth.
Why have you been so cold ?
My love once was untold .
But now I unfold
each page of my book of love.
Your reciprocation I do deserve.
I preserved my love in core of heart.
How can you ignore ?
How can you hurt ?
My yearnings shining as gold
Lust rippled rolled.
Emotive urge claiming dynamism,
Yet feeling I am dying !
With deep wound in heart
I am drowning down in living hell !
Growing old.
No strength left to carry load
Me sinking in cold.
Stretching my hand, please hold.
Me sinking in cold.
Need little warmth.
starry skies
lovely lights
twinkling eyes
falling across my heart
feelings alive with love
coloring souls in art
laughing lilac delight
alive with grateful dreams
whispering through the night
breathing intimacy through my mind
compassion consoling my worst fears
reminding me why I must be kind
with joy coloring my faith and hope
yearnings so alive with tenderness
assuring my heart so it can cope
lovely prayers whispered on the breeze
listening to the silence within
embracing the soul as to appease
A 3-6-9 Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
July 4, 2021
Let it be known and unknown
There were wings… there were horns
Neither Heaven nor Hell… simply home
For those engiven life without… bonds
It wasn’t bodies who entwines
It’s inhuman lust… it’s a forgotten hour
Where the sun is dark and the moon only shines
No longer the strength… only power
Defiance is the key to be absolute
No more is any a certified stranger
Angels and Demons of servitude
Forever belongs the hour of never
Yearnings and desires heighten
Despairs and sorrows forgotten
Reasons and aspiration distant
Every instinct… stolen
Life was never known
Demons and Angels wrought
Born to never a home
Its only dancing with the Gods
Oh, splendorous, spectacular, resplendent autumn!
Boldly you dye cypress ~ flaunting ochre, cinnamon,
Yellowing sugar-maple, glazing tangerine emotions,
As scarlet winds warble in accents of majestic aspens,
Responding in purple whispers, tupelo leaves flutter
Reminiscing in revelries evoked by red-oak crimson
Lingering in blazing meadows, enchanting red maple.
Oh, autumn! fly me there, into depths of the season,
Frolicking upon gamboge hills, wrap me in your vision,
Tour with me dazzling terrains of flamboyant foliage
Composing deep pleasure in brilliant changing colors,
Hang your portrait upon cobalt cliffs of ruby horizon
Painting blushing hearts in amber hints of setting sun,
Mindful still of wistful shudders quivering barren trees
And unsung withering yearnings of falling golden leaves,
Aspiring blossoming kisses--on lips of flowering spring.
HANSEL AND GRETHEL*—A FRACTURED FAIRY TALE
Poem written for and submitted to “The Seed of Fear Poetry Contest,” Jami Patterson, sponsor, August 5, 2025.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the great city where towers scraped the sky,
lived an accountant with taxes too high.
His fingers trembled over empty ledgers,
scary times calling for drastic measures.
No longer in democracy did his country embrace
personal freedoms left without a trace.
The economy did falter
most everyone, including him, lived in squaller.
His wife sighed, "Oh, what shall we do?
Our cupboards are bare, our dreams bid adieu.
No bread to share and not enough food
for Hansel, Grethel, you, and me. We’re screwed!”
“There's a camp on city’s outskirts,” he did say,
"where the broken, lost, and weary can stay.
There we can live free on government aid.
So, dear wife, not to worry, for everything will be paid!"
“We can’t go there!” she said, her voice filled with dread.
"We shall not seek where the lost souls are led,
in a camp where the government with us its taxes has bled
offering breadcrumbs to our children instead."
Hansel, with his innocence, clutched his mother’s skirt.
Grethel, with wide eyes and a sweet voice, filled the air with mirth.
But with heavy hearts, they packed up their toys and possessions~
no more yearnings, no more hunger or worries, only depression.
The night was beastly cold, hope worn thin.
The stars watched Hansel and Grethel’s struggles begin.
The camp, a frightening place, was filled with sorrow,
no more dreams of a bright, better tomorrow.
Personal freedom was bartered for fear;
drugs and violence were always near.
Curfews, rampant theft, socialism, and criminal infestation
took hold in our once great nation-now the land of desperation
*Note: "Hansel and Grethel is a German fairy tale collected by the Brothers Grimm and published in 1812. It tells the story of two siblings who are abandoned in a forest by their stepmother and encounter a witch who lives in a house of candy." (Wikipedia.com)