Long Flying carpet Poems

Long Flying carpet Poems. Below are the most popular long Flying carpet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flying carpet poems by poem length and keyword.


Treasure Map

Once upon a time there lived a very curious
boy called Simon. He was the grandson
of Sir Walcott, a great explorer. 

Sir Walcott had traveled to Americas, Africa, Asia and
Antarctica. Treasures he discovered like gold,
rubies, emeralds and diamonds made him
very rich. The Queen honored his discovery
of new worlds and treasures, and knighted him.

One day, when he reached home from school,
Simon saw a big, white envelope on his bed. Quickly
he opened it, only to see an old map. Behind it
was written “This map will guide you to the greatest
treasures the world has ever known”.

Secretly Simon left his home in the deep night,
and headed to places the map showed. He found
gold chests, Sword of Excalibur, Lost City of Atlantis,
magic beans…..  The more he discovered new things,
the more he became tired of looking for them. He
wondered what great treasure the map was talking 
about.

Bored and frustrated, he sat under a tree and started
to cry. His tears fell on the map, only for the map
to glitter! Then a voice came from the map:
“Don’t cry little one….you are nearer to the treasure
than you can ever imagine!”
Simon wiped his tears, and looked at the map,
as though it was a ghost. The map was actually
talking!

The map told him that he would become much
richer than his grandfather, if he discovered
the greatest treasure of them all: happiness,
which could only be found in the heart.

The map told him he had found happiness
the journey, enjoying to pass through jungles,
deserts, and ice planes. Enjoying to see animals
he only saw on TV and magazines. Enjoying to see
new kinds of people with different cultures….

Happiness, the map told him, wasn't in the treasures
like gold, but in the hearts. Simon thought for a minute,
and realized he actually enjoyed the adventures more
than finding the treasures. He was very excited he had
discovered the greatest treasure;
the bliss and thrill of living!

The map then turned into a flying carpet,
and took him home. 


THE END



Moral of the Story:

Happiness is not found in wealth or riches. It’s found in life in the form of family, new friends, new places, new languages, all in all encompassing the thrill of living each day.
Form: Narrative


Savannah and My Muse

I go in search of an elusive Muse.

Her flight has left my vessels cracked and dry.

Shafts of moonlight bathing o’er savannah,

radiates no mist of magic in my mind,

where once we danced in step with wildest drums

and from my pen out flowed the words with ease.

 

An artist on a trapeze I swing with ease,

I ride a flying carpet in the arms of my Muse,

conquering worlds to the battle echo of the drums.

Never did I dip my pen in ink all dry,

I lived a fancy dream world in my mind,

exotic fantasies in wild savannah.

 

The moon a giant pearl in my savannah,

with wind a soothing breeze, I slept with ease.

The warmth of night shadows reassured my mind,

vanquished my phantoms as I journeyed with my Muse

ever gracious, her gift jars never dry.

Words poured out unceasing from her drums.

 

But now I feel the silence of the drums,

menacing clouds float over savannah,

the grassy plains once green, now are dry.

A flock of birds have plucked my words with ease,

like leaves they gather to lay at the feet of the Muse.

I am a scarecrow left bare and empty of mind.

 

My pen drags, no words come out my mind,

the ghosts of dead poets beat the drums,

marching, losing rhythm, without my Muse.

I beg the wind to find her in savannah,

bring her back to me, my pain to ease,

to cease poetic juices from bleeding dry.

 

My riverbeds continue to run dry,

without my Muse, I know I’ve lost my mind,

I can’t afford to leave the Art with ease.

In mysterious chambers deaf to the drums

 I retire to salve my wounds in deep savannah,

and dream of waking up at the touch of my Muse.

 

I wait for my Muse, though she has left me dry,

In savannah I shall stay until my mind

hears the drums, again to write with ease.
Form: Sestina

Premium Member Story

Story 

I pull the dusty well-worn tome
Down from the high shelf in my home
Now blow and scatter all the flecks
As children gather, craning necks.. 

Anticipation glistens in their eyes
As if a fairground vendor's prize
Is handed down from garish stall
This gift of words that will enthrall 

And so to start.. 

What wonders can this tale impart?
Adventures, battles, dragons, princes?
Escapes from death, to catch our breath
And calls so close the audience winces 

A story captures imagination.
Thus passed to friend, then tribe, then nation 
Courageous is the human trait
That shines against the odds of fate 

Struggles through the moonlight quest
To strengthen, sharpen. To be the best.
A faithful steed to clamber hills..
A trusty blade to fight windmills 

Fantastic creatures of the night
That snap and snarl, at ankles, bite
Testing all the pure resolve 
To overcome. And puzzles solve.

And in this tale all play their part 
Even though a darkened heart
Obstructs and hinders.
Like midnight chimes for fleeing Cinders. 

But this, no magic Disney book
No stereotypical pirate Hook.
No flying carpet. No dancing bear.
Yet something special lingers there.. 

The truth revealed eventually;
Persistence beats adversity
With faithful steps and trusted sword
The sharpness of the purest Word 

A wonderous tale to light the eyes;
Giants, snakes, kings and spies,
Angels, villains, light and colour
A story like you've heard no other 

So pass to daughters, siblings, sons
This truth the light of many suns 
For every generation reaches
Out for Hope this volume teaches 

So search the book shelf, reach from high
Prepare to laugh, prepare to cry
Uncover truth of One so bold.
The greatest story ever told. 


Jinjagoliath
29th March 2021
Form: Rhyme

How It All Began

now the sun made love to the moon
in a transgender afternoon 
will be like you, will be like me 
blame fimininty, blame under Y trinity 
for the crescent got pregnant by a star 
how Islamic them flags hailing Ishtar
sue blindness with no guts won't go any far 
a lonely baby monkey riding an intellectual donkey
contstantine sat with christianity to dine 
I'll give you the bibile don't take my kingdom we'll play it subtle 
gods anagram is dog, eventually truth isn't to dodge 
shylock laughed from the eye shaped window gotta love the attic, gotta love the lodge 
there a twelve month old lonely boy, hovering holding a radioactive toy 
oh red neck cowboy 
in the east they're dancing eureka 
gotta love rock, gotta love amerika 
a middle eastern dream on a flying carpet 
it's raining oil, it made them souls way murky than slimy soil
red china sat with north Korea gotta love the boogie cafeteria 
iran humped israhell up her stars and stripes skirt in syria 
but who knows that fake khomeni sealed the fate to bloody rainy 
now the boy is a four dimensional old man 
poor out of time you ran 
the nomad looked at the stars, covered the jet turbine with his purple purple turban 
ivy league ethopian NBA player, forgot his jewish core under the suburbs layer 
Hitler never lost, his whores name written on paper without a clip 
from the g string to the g thing, Hong Kong Singh ting 
tsunami origami, that haarp is a reddish yammy 
in the fourth earth there's an entity with a heartburn, send cern 
heads up, it's the final u turn
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Love Stanzas

Love Stanzas

I write of celestial moons and flying carpet rides, 
Of seasonal hues and rising tides. 
I write when golden sunlight fills the skies, 
And emerald hills enchant my waking eyes. 

When the aroma of thulian roses scents the air 
And wind blows the willows like Pele’s hair. 
I write of all things that remind me of you, 
How I’m sheltered by your shadow in all I do. 

When I hear the sweet call of a turtle dove, 
I smile at your deep amorous voice I love. 
You are always the one after forty years
Though we've endured a few hardships and tears,

It strengthened our bond as we grew old
Our wedding vows seemed to be written in gold.
You put my feelings first and I reciprocate
I cherished the fact that you were my soulmate.

When moonlight gleams on our island sea 
Our love songs still echo eternally. 
The love we shared remains pristine and pure 
When our souls combined to forever endure. 

8-29-22

I write because Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon 

____________________________________

7-17-22 Rev.

~First Place~
Rhyme Rumi Quote Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet 

"From deep within my heart
I always catch the scent
of my Beloved. How can I
help but follow that fragrance?"    By Rumi

_________________________________________

8-31-18
Still the One Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner ~7th Place~

* Thulian is a rose pink shade
Form: Rhyme


Death No Thank You

Have you ever received an invitation from Death.

I did because someone in the home office overlooked that I had died once.

I died last year and I did not like it. No one greeted me and there was no music playing over the loud speakers.

Wherever my body want after jumping off that flying carpet was poorly lit.

No streets lights or directional signs that pointed up or down or right or left.

Unlike Dorothy in the land of Oz
I had no road map or guides to lead me.

The Unified Field I found myself in was dark and void like a Black Hole.
But where all things were possible and it was up to my imagination to do whatever it was that I wanted to do or not.

There was no time and no light and no physical matter to speak of but only my consciousnesses and that split into many dimensions.

I saw myself watching my other self and speak to my other self that was speaking to myself that had inhabit that body that I had left when I died.

Me and I and we spoke telepathic and made a decision to return back to that old physical body because it really was not time to take the next step.

So when the office of Death finally caught up with me when I came back to life and said that they were sorry but my account had expired.

I laugh at the agent of Death and said too late I have paid my the price that was due and when my time comes again I will consider my options.
© Mel Brake  Create an image from this poem.

I Believe In You

Do you believe in miracles?
Do you believe in love?
Do you believe in magic?
And angels up above 

Do you believe in happiness?
Or do you think its phrase 
Would you believe it has? 
Never come to me in days

Do you believe fairy tales?
In snow white and Cinderella
Do you believe in evolutions?
And that we came from a gorilla

Do you believe in mermaids?
That all the legends are true
For what ever you believe in 
I will always believe in you

Do you believe in unicorns?
Pixy dust and peter pan
Do you believe a spider bite?
Can turn you into spider man

What about Alice in wonder land
And hickory duck with the clocks
The ginger bread man 
And three bears and Goldie locks

Do you believe in Rapunzel?
That she really had long hair
And jack and the beanstalk
Big bad wolf and baby bear

Do you believe in superman?
And little red riding hood too
No matter what you believe in
I will always believe in you 

Snow white and the seven dwarfs
Puss in boots and tinker bell
Do you believe in Pinocchio? 
The woodcutter, Hansel and Gretel

Ali Baba and the fourty thieves
The pied piper of Hamelin
The little mermaid
And the flying carpet with jasmine

Sleeping beauty and the beast
The secret name of rumpelstiltskin
The frog price tree little pigs,
Thumbelina and the ugly ducklings

No matter what you believe in 
No matter what you do
I give you my love and 
I will always believe in you

Premium Member Shadows Fall Beneath the Light

I am so very bored with virus I must say

The only thing I want is to go out and play

An atheist myself I even learnt about to pray

Minimalist isolation has become my lonely way

I am a haystack with no needle left in disarray


Descartes says doubt and think and then you are

Plato delves into a cave and looks at shadows far

Freud by the couch puffs on his twenty first cigar

Sartre's existence before essence only seems bizarre


When all that's left appears to be to stare at walls

Jerusalem Jericho China Mexico and no shopping malls

The bricks stand firm and my resilience slowly falls


The flying carpet of my fantasy is upside down and out

Rooftops are closed and therefore I cannot even shout


Confinement slices my emotions like a wicked reaper 


Even procrastination does not suffice to make my day

Its difficult to notice feathers underneath the viscous tar

Hung and quartered dark moods proceed as evening calls

A hermit's plight's loincloth draped on my body getting stout

Time to reconsider my dream of working as lighthouse keeper


06th April 2020

Minuetta Poems Contest

Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Form: Rhyme

Crown Shaped Virus

Oh! beloved how scared i was, 
the risk of losing you to invisible enemy, 
a creature with no anima and heart.
An unknown, undefeatable enemy, pounding on you when you had no armour, no vicious sword. 
Trying to reach you, almost desperate, no hope to light my heart, 
You alone in the hospital bed, while i was sobbing miles apart. 
No flying carpet, no fairy tale magic, a real world morbid with death and loss. 
But oh my sweet how hard you fought, 
indeed a lioness at heart! 
Me, caged inside four cold walls, hands with sanetizer, face with masks, 
incomplete without symphony of your laugh. 

In extreme agony, this is how my few days passed. 

Streets again lively, grandma with her dog, gardens filled with restrained joy, eyes shadowed with unexpected loss. 
With grim determination, i paved my path, holding the fragile festoon of faith. 
Finally, the painful journey ended, my destination before my eyes, stained windows shading you, door opened you came running, into my arms. 
Sunken cheeks, hollowed eyes, Oh love how beautiful you were to my parched eyes! 


-1/6/2021

Our World of Wonderments

Like diamonds on butterfly wings, dew dribbles,
bestowing sparkle to freshly woven spider entanglements
as fireflies glilsten beneath blackened skies

Stardust illusions are sprinkled into our lives
as magical, imaginary unicorns awe and inspire us
to consider unexplainable happenings

Phenomenal musical sounds from breezes that
rustle branches and leaves in enamor us into feelings 
of anticipation, desiring more of nature's aura

Birds chirp, bees buzz, as fields of wild flowers open
Their tiny faces smile upward to a new dawn, unveiling
charismatic neon hues

Royal purples, blue green waves and frothy spindrift
gently brush against beaches of pure white sand
as a passionate peacefulness is heard
beneath celestial delilghts that glow in contrast
to a circular orange-yellow melon moon

Like a flying carpet, these tiny miracles bring images
to our thoughts and images, leaving imprints of colors
and sounds in our hearts and minds
Creating an unforgettable  world of
charm and wonderment.

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