"yestereve" poems - Hello Poetry

yestereve we succame A lengthy ballad of longing formerly one of obstinance flared in a cacophony of passion Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion, yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts as there was no doubt of desire nor were there objections to her for even when my affections consumed you lady desire was just an inexorable yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom there went the pain any semblance of grudge along with sanity reason and lastly, walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's such vulnerability unmatched for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason for reason, although safe, is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad and the first to fall victim to the cascade What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad. The way your upper lip curls when you grin made my glissade blissful and passionate Your flustered twirl the very epitome of aubade Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality Your flustered face En L'air Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony A moment of unfiltered emotion A heavenly ballad so cruelly of yestereve.

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Apr 16, 2021

Apr 16, 2021 at 2:37 PM UTC

bellsofblithe

The Ballad of Yestereve

yestereve we succame A lengthy ballad of longing formerly one of obstinance flared in a cacophony of passion Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion, yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts as there was no doubt of desire nor were there objections to her for even when my affections consumed you lady desire was just an inexorable yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom there went the pain any semblance of grudge along with sanity reason and lastly, walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's such vulnerability unmatched for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason for reason, although safe, is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad and the first to fall victim to the cascade What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad. The way your upper lip curls when you grin made my glissade blissful and passionate Your flustered twirl the very epitome of aubade Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality Your flustered face En L'air Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony A moment of unfiltered emotion A heavenly ballad so cruelly of yestereve.

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What heroes from the woodland sprung, When, through the fresh awakened land, The thrilling cry of freedom rung, And to the work of warfare strung The yeoman's iron hand! Hills flung the cry to hills around, And ocean-mart replied to mart, And streams whose springs were yet unfound, Pealed far away the startling sound Into the forest's heart. Then marched the brave from rocky steep, From mountain river swift and cold; The borders of the stormy deep, The vales where gathered waters sleep, Sent up the strong and bold,-- As if the very earth again Grew quick with God's creating breath, And, from the sods of grove and glen, Rose ranks of lion-hearted men To battle to the death. The wife, whose babe first smiled that day, The fair fond bride of yestereve, And aged sire and matron gray, Saw the loved warriors haste away, And deemed it sin to grieve. Already had the strife begun; Already blood on Concord's plain Along the springing grass had run, And blood had flowed at Lexington, Like brooks of April rain. That death-stain on the vernal sward Hallowed to freedom all the shore; In fragments fell the yoke abhorred-- The footstep of a foreign lord Profaned the soil no more.

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841

William Cullen Bryant

Seventy-Six

What heroes from the woodland sprung, When, through the fresh awakened land, The thrilling cry of freedom rung, And to the work of warfare strung The yeoman's iron hand! Hills flung the cry to hills around, And ocean-mart replied to mart, And streams whose springs were yet unfound, Pealed far away the startling sound Into the forest's heart. Then marched the brave from rocky steep, From mountain river swift and cold; The borders of the stormy deep, The vales where gathered waters sleep, Sent up the strong and bold,-- As if the very earth again Grew quick with God's creating breath, And, from the sods of grove and glen, Rose ranks of lion-hearted men To battle to the death. The wife, whose babe first smiled that day, The fair fond bride of yestereve, And aged sire and matron gray, Saw the loved warriors haste away, And deemed it sin to grieve. Already had the strife begun; Already blood on Concord's plain Along the springing grass had run, And blood had flowed at Lexington, Like brooks of April rain. That death-stain on the vernal sward Hallowed to freedom all the shore; In fragments fell the yoke abhorred-- The footstep of a foreign lord Profaned the soil no more.

35

Clear sapphire night Shock of lilac scent Thick, mesmeric Milk moon rose yestereve Perigee, gigantic And you returned today while Almond petals browned In gutter drifts Elder blossom opened Nodding stems, white disks And you took my breath away The lilac scent, the blue night The flutter of the spring breeze And the sunset skyline's dying light.

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Jun 3, 2021

Jun 3, 2021 at 6:34 PM UTC

DawnHogarth-Burton

Deep May Night

Clear sapphire night Shock of lilac scent Thick, mesmeric Milk moon rose yestereve Perigee, gigantic And you returned today while Almond petals browned In gutter drifts Elder blossom opened Nodding stems, white disks And you took my breath away The lilac scent, the blue night The flutter of the spring breeze And the sunset skyline's dying light.

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