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Best Light Poetry Poems

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Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

FORGOTTEN TREASURE-

FORGOTTEN TREASURE

I found the fountain of youth.
When I stumbled across the forbidden garden.
Right smack in the middle,
Was what I thought to be a wishing well.
I tossed in a quarter!
Looking down with a puzzled face.
I peeked to see where it fell.
I leaned over and that's when I saw my vanity.
It was always there waiting for me.
The reflection in the water was my face.
In wonder I asked what this vision could be?
With one drop on my taste buds.
I knew I found the one true key.
The most beautiful thing that can set one free.
I reached in to touch the poetry inside me.

      S.K.A.T. POEMS

re-post- first poem on the soup

Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

I Tried To Say







                                   On a cloud I wrote - I love you
                                       But the cloud blew away
                                    On a tree I wrote - I love you
                                  But someone cut down the tree
                          In the sand on the beach I wrote - I love you
                                 But the waves wiped them away
                                 In the wind, I cried - I love you
                      But the wind was too strong and no one could hear
                               In a small letter I wrote - I love you
                             But I never posted it - it was never sent
                                      But you know - I love you
                                    and my heart belongs to you




19.02.2013
A-L Andresen :)

Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

Big Poo, Small Poo, Yellow Poo, Blue Poo

Big poo

        small poo

  yellow poo

           blue poo.


There are so many different kinds of poo,
it's amazing to see what passes through.


Square poo

               round poo

skinny poo

               fat poo.


Making poo-poo
is something everyone has to do.
Yes. It's true!
I do too!

Look at this poo all covered in nuts.
It stinks far worse than rotten fish guts.
Oh me! Oh my!
Oh me! Oh my!
It stinks so bad,
it caused that fly to die.

So some poo is quite smelly.
      Some poo looks like jelly.
Some poo is very icky,
      especially when it comes out sticky.

Some poo smells high.
       Some poo smells low.
Some poo slides out fast,
        and some poo comes out slow.


Big poo

        small poo

  yellow poo

           blue poo.

         

What kind of poo is your favourite to do?
Hard poo? 
        Soft poo? 
               Loud poo? 
                       Quiet poo?
Maybe an in-between sort of doo-doo?


The smelliest poo is made by the razor-backed Zonkzifferack.
Boy, when the razor-backed Zonkzifferack decides to drop a mighty stack....
....stand back! Yes. Please stand back!
There is nothing worse than the poo attack of a razor-backed Zonkzifferack.

Then there are the infamous Knack-a-croodle Crows.
Their poo smells like that of a Summer rose.
Not at all unpleasant to the nose.
Nothing wrong with those Knack-a-croodle Crows.

Look! Over here.
That poo is making a quick dash.
Oh! What a huge splash!

Now look at the poo over there.
It's all covered in hair.

There's also poo that floats like a boat,
or sinks very quickly in the drink.

Poo shaped liked cats,
poo shaped liked rats,
poo marching along wearing fat hats!


Remember children,
the next time there arrives a choo-choo,
making poo is something everyone has to do.
Nothing to be ashamed of through and through.

Whether it's new
             whether it's blue
or possibly a bit old
             even covered in mold....

....everyone has to make poo.

  It's true!

Even Ms. Brown, the teacher,
and Mr. Collins, the Preacher.
Your Mommy makes poo.
Your Granny makes poo.

      I do too!

                
                  Yes I do.










*R.I.P. Dr. Seuss

Written: January 28th, 2012


Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

SPILLS OF IMAGINATION



early dawn cracks the  wispy air
open , wandering around viscous spaces
like fairy shadows caressing the edge
of sleep… and the days stretch longer,
 
taller than maple trees delicately rustling
the garnet of late Indian summer when
birds, orbits and urchins listen to 
a single searching sun… when all else
 
is sprawled quiet, there comes this
certain fired imagination straying  on
mouths of  gentleness  far beyond
nuptials of effervescent realms…
 
someone said morning becomes Electra,
that learning how to hear a pear or
grain unravel the very skin from
which it was born is allowing time to
 
unfurl its leaves far beyond unknowing a
heart’s need to be:  the juice spills streams
waking new faces of time, bending the width
of life's rhyme through endless mystery...
 
a thousand times before and after, daybreak
and night twine... that in tints of all hues,
passing through fables of any season
 
is poetry's way of coming back to itself.


Justin Bordner's How Poetry Began Contest
by nette onclaud

Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

If I Can Fool You

If I could fool you, I surely would
You’d be mine, your beauty understood
I would fool you that my heart is sublime
I would give you red roses every day
To fool you into loving me
I would kiss you softly on the lips
Sweetly I shall whisper have I fooled you yet?
I would hold you hand on seashore walks
Enchanting your eyes with my fables and talks
Every word would be crafted so
So that I may be certain I fooled you so
In the dusk, on a moonlit night
Candles flicker upon our evening meal
As I plan and deceive your heart to steal
Once its captured, and your in my arms
I would smile so brightly
You being my prize and charm
I know for sure you will entice me still   
And with a kiss right upon my lips
You will laugh and dance and toss me a kiss
With a question I already knew long ago
You will ask me
Who fooled who?


Notes, This was inspired by Eileen Manassian Ghali, and her poem "I'm not fooled"

Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

IN THE MOOD


lately, i have been in this female mood for some kind of abandon, that which exhales the tigress fire out of my lungs digging the veins from a week's' routine movements pruned to the barest of a payroll’s droll… antiseptic cubicles dictate the rags of chlorine-infected lunch where rooms i strut around have nothing except robotic people, same rye snacks, basins of expired coffee and files of schizoid folio.. just outside, the sky coughs of gas masks rendering a paper bag of humanity to suffocate on clanking bones along claustrophobic subways: such a hemorrhaging day waiting for 5pm to hiss, halt ,and heave… i need to dance with the arms of a jazzy moon fondling my back and whistling the tunes of recklesness when all but the spirit lusts for is just a slice of raw breaths spiraling into tangy punches of rockstar blues... spare me the cranky claws of a friday so sore; i alight like a feline dressed in black lace with cabaret wings, feathers splattered on glitzy cobblestones... voluptuous legs hot and wild sniffing sultry lavender scent of friday night’s parade; and the band notes howl, free like me.
Favorite Poem Of Yours Contest of Giorgio V by nette onclaud

Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

Suck It

My mouth is watering at your sight
I can't wait for a taste, pure delight
One bite of you and my mouth quivers
Sending tingles up and down, I shiver 

Sweet and flavorful, juices drip from my chin
Leaving me happy, satisfied, and with a grin
It's been too long since I tasted that fruit
Ripe, round, and a little fuzzy, you're cute

Heaven on Earth, the perfect wet taste, slurp
Sucking her succulent juices dry, another slurp
In the height of summer up in the tree I reach
For my refreshing sweet fruit, I love you my peach

Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

Desire

Your love touched me. . .
As a butterfly softly alights on a flower.
I didn't notice until you flew away.


*Note: This poem is about not realizing you love someone until it is too late.

Thank you for suggesting I put this under "light poetry" Doris.

Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

I Am But a Dreamer

I am but a dreamer
and in my dreams I play
where I live so happily
writing them my way
inside my illusions
where I know I belong
whistling a joyful tune
as I go along

Like a little spirit
I venture on the breeze
skipping in the gentle wind
doing what I please
with the rising sun I dance
wrapped inside his charms
across the golden morning sky
twirling in his arms

I can climb a mountain
or live among the trees
sail in a silver sailboat
on the seven seas
I can draw a moonlit night
ride on a bright moonbeam
and swim among the diamonds
in a velvet stream

I am but a dreamer
there's nothing in my way
living in the place I love
loving everyday
maybe it's a fairytale
but that's all right by me
I'm the master of my dreams
where I wander free

No one there can tell me
what is wrong or right
following what's in my heart
I live in the light
happy in my dream world
that's where I choose to stay
in the world where I belong
writing dreams my way

Details | Light Poetry Poem | |

SWEET DANCE


                                               Dance with me
                                I have borrowed mum`s summer hat
                            Dressed up with lipstick and pearl necklace
                    The good smell....do not say it but it`s mum`s perfume
                          The high heel red shoes are mum`s and they fits
                         me almost I`m nearly four years old and a big girl
                                   I have dressed up so nice just for you
                         Dance with me dad, I`m your little princess tonight













27.03.2012
A-L Andresen

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