Best Fluffiness Poems
Here the sun shines soft and warm—
Caressing all in vales and on hill—
It gives a glow to every inherent form—
And reveals for every eye a thrill.
Of here they never get their fill—
For this is Bliss, an endless treasure—
Where our dream is the Lord’s will—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
The garden is a lush, green platform—
Big blooms with the fluffiness of chenille—
Songbirds’ music raise a storm—
Their feathered robes fill the bill.
Wings spread they fly away at freewill—
Along the curvy course of the river—
They seek the Lord’s grace with skill—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
The dream cottage, fancy for the norm—
With a stone paved path to the doorsill—
A neat little shelter from the storm—
Has a spice garden for basil and dill.
And there’s a gazebo for time to kill--
For when gardenwork calls for leisure—
Or even for the blessing of a drizzle—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
To some this vision may instill—
A yearning for the bliss in nature—
But the Lord is sovereign still—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
I fly on wing of song.
Twenty-three miles out of Atlanta
soaring like an eagle traveling from DC
thirty-six thousand miles high
Fly, fly away
Through the blue hues of morning
white fluffiness lie below towards earth
puffy white and gray cotton-like softness
gently moving on windsong
feeling like a Welsh princess
watching o’er her universe.
I see the world through a rectangle
looking out over the airplane’s wing
reaching outward and upward.
Soaring like hope
Moving like faith
Solid span of charity
Humming motor onward bound joyful sound
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground
wind under my winged sails
I’m pressing on the upward way.
Arrows painted on wingspan
pointing left as we travel right
viewing “safety line attach point”
feeling secure way up here
three flapjacks adjusting the wind flow
reminding of Father, Son and Holy Spirit
pouring through keeping my soul.
Upward outward incline
continuous motion held by metal strength
while thin white clouds pass by.
Heaven’s sky still far far away
no matter how far up one gets God is farther still
beyond the blue somewhere higher.
Sitting assured as my mind presses on—
landing soon will come
back to earth world
where I belong.
@2011 – Evelyn Pearl Carpenter Anderson
As lilies are arrayed,
So might an angel
Bestowed upon me
May delightfully be.
That her wings will
Be softer than silk
In my calloused and
Undeserving hands.
That her beauty may
Bloom as a field of
Sweetly scented flowers.
As a rose that wilts not,
So shall the gentleness
Of her loving embrace
Be forever felt upon
My beating chest.
As the fluffiness of
White hydrangeas,
Pedestaled, enthroned
In a palace of gold,
So shall my queen—
Elegant, wondrous—
Be loved.
-Bunny Hole- by:SKAT
hidden muddy home
dirty paws, good boy' good boy!
yummy with carrots :)
----------------------------
-Unwanted Fluffiness- by:PD
Big Brown Burlap Bag
drop Bunnies down By the Bay
Better off -Blue grave
~SKAT & PD~
Oh my dear Frappe I love you so
Oh my sweet stalker kitty
Your heart just said no
And at the end you were all giddy
My sweet sweet kitty
You were always so funny
The way you almost suffocated the lizard
And it was sad when you died during the blizzard
Oh my dear Frappe I love you so
I love your giant bean toe
I love your fluffiness
I loved your niceness
I love your stalker tendencies
I love that you and the bear were enemies
I love your multi colered eyes
But unfortunely you had to cut ties
Oh my dear Frappe I love you so
I'm so sad you had to go
Oh my dear frappe I love you
I love you so
I carefully break the crusty circle
As I lift a slice of cheese;
The chewy, stretchable goodness
Clings and breaks off as I please.
I lift it close with both hands
And inhale its warm, cheesy smell;
It sends a spasm of hunger
Deep into my stomach’s well.
I temptingly take a nibble;
The gooey warmth fills my cheeks;
My tongue finds pepperoni and pineapple,
And the flavors explode in peaks.
The fluffiness of crust, the chewiness of cheese,
The spiciness of meat, and the tanginess of fruit
Collide in my mouth, sends my taste buds whooping
And my stomach grumbles and gives a hoot!
I can no longer refrain!
I can no longer restrain!
I stuff my face until
I can no longer contain.
Carefree Teddy Bears
by Carrie Hooper
A mama teddy bear and her cub
Stand in the cold,
Safe and warm in their fur coats.
Entertained by passing cars,
The sun's light show,
The whipped cream fluffiness of snow,
And nature's varied artwork,
What more do they need?
I’m glad you have two sides
So I can switch you through the night
I have to feel that cool spot
On my face to feel just right
At first I just start turning you
To make you feel ok
Your fluffiness doesn’t matter to me
It’s your coolness that I crave
You may say that I’m crazy
But with you I do sleep better
When I reach and turn you over
You are the perfect temperature
I hold you oh so tight at night
You never let me down
No matter what I say to you
You never ever frown
You’re warm and fluffy when I’m cold
And full of coolness when I’m hot
You never say a word to me
Despite my midnight plots
I turn you several times a night
And always sing your praise
I’m so happy that you don’t complain
Even through your lonely days
I can’t be with you always
Though I think of you quite often
I daydream we’ll be together
As soon as I leave the office
I know you’ll always be right there
Exactly where I left you
You jump just when you feel my touch
As soon as I need to hold you
Thank you for your comfort
And support on those cold nights
And especially for your coolness
All those times I held you tight
When someone’s head was in the clouds
It wasn’t really meant
To flatter; rather as a put-down,
That was the intent.
For clouds were puffs of fluffiness
Where nothing could be found
And one whose head was there did not
Have two feet on the ground.
Yet now there’s been a major shift
Since everyone’s on board
With reaching up into the Cloud,
Where everything is stored.
Sensitive souls meet feisty spirits
Fluffiness of fresh fallen snow
Heat of harsh fiery flames
Natural elements of colliding forces
Possibilities of complementaries
Actualisation of a pair too dire
Contrasts complimenting one assumes
Reality melts the other
Hot fire against chilled snow
Disaster overwhelms surrounding viewers
Liquified tears drown fiery words
A hot puddle is this mess
Eating in a New York diner?
Here’s a little scoop:
You don’t have to be Jewish
To have matzoh balls in soup.
For in this local area
(New Jersey is included),
When soup is on the menu,
Matzoh ball won’t be excluded.
The chicken broth which forms the base
Should have sufficient salt,
Although complaints most often place
The matzoh balls at fault.
In restaurants, they’re often huge.
Most times, just one’s afloat;
But it should have a fluffiness
To fill you, not to bloat.
Though matzoh balls are served in soup
Each day throughout the year,
The only time I eat them’s when
The holiday* is here.
But like that Levy’s rye ad said,
You needn’t be a Jew
To eat some soup with matzoh balls –
Go on, it’s good for you!
So if you’ve never had a taste,
It’s time to wet your whistle.
I guarantee you’ll love it,
Likely more than just a bissel**!
*Passover **Yiddish for a little bit
I whisper…
In a nearly inaudible voice
Softly but firmly… into your ears
The insatiable desires, the irreversible regrets, the off the limits dreams
the unspeakable aloneness.
So selfish of me
forcing you to embrace the sums of me
Into your extensive universe
Along with the immense weight of the secrets
Up the mountains and down the rivers
Oh, this unbearable cradle of burdens
The undulating figures of yours, contouring like the lovers’ naked bodies
Seductive, mystical, exhilarating, unsettling…
Soaring high in the sky
Spreading across to the world’s end
Then disappearing into these clouds of fluffiness
Clouds, as white as light as the whipping cream,
elegantly sitting above the mortal world, like a delicious layer cake.
Just when I thought I had lost you
You proudly stick your snow-capped heads up, up above the oceans of clouds
Longing to be admired, caressed and eventually conquered.
Now all that secrets
Infiltrating every pore, every limb, every vein of your bodies
My pulses, my spirits echo yours; and my heart, of course
There is no escape, one we are
Burying and interwinding life’s mystery into each other
For the thousand years to come.
Life born and reborn
Stories told and retold, lived and relived
Reincarnate into unrecognizable forms and shapes.
But I know somewhere and everywhere in these sacred mountains
Dotted with my hidden secrets
Secrets only shared by the occasional skeletons of the unlucky trekkers
Or a few random lost souls, here and there
Let me glide with you
Let me truly feel free
Let us fly through white fluffiness
Let us skim the vast sea
Let us enjoy the warmth of a days sunshine
Let us inhale the mystery and beauty of night
Let us eternally glide together
Let us for evermore be in full flight
Most imp potent and salient playbook page...
'bout fluffiness of hair after washing
Now get ready for...
yup intelligent persiflage
determining if potty "talk" gauge
correctly calibrated courtesy this sage.
Beats out global warming
by a long stretch
most important commander
must set example you betch
chore life no matter
if miserable wretch
survives impeachable offenses
enough to make me kvetch,
especially four more years
yours truly will once again become
bulimic anorexic wretch.
Versus important crisis
of planet Earth,
where Gaia's bountiful
nature woolworth
analogous wharf resplendent
docks side of ships berth state
housing electricity generating
mined resources inevitable dearth
warming chill folks
courtesy homey hearth
reminiscent during inchoate
fetal nine months
in utero signaling imminent birth.
Quite understandable reasonable,
non negotiable, inviolable...
blah... blah... blah
scalp itching blather
particularly to prioritize
orange-blond hirsute fullness
upon rinsing sudsy shampoo lather
as expressed by this
post baby boomer
pencil neck geek father,
who attempts to walk poetic feet
across cyber sea
miraculously to slather.
Trademark seedy nonsensical
farcical gobbledygook,
perhaps posthumously printing
bestselling blank paginated chapbook
ghost written by Trump
titled Art of the Steal
detailing head and shoulders how to look
suave and sophisticated all business
swiftly tailored harried style shook
White House disguised himself as rook
key "Fake" incognito president
recruiting apprenticed bartered bride
slow vacuuming trophy wife crook
cow hoard milching, kickstarting,
inciting, generating... donnybrook
coiffing pompadour resembling
forefathers windblown periwig.
Nope not even one hair
mussed out of place,
as if teetering fountainhead
supporting Atlas shrugged
top heavy topples
and crashes scattering
bajillion easy pieces everyplace
analogous to humpty dumpty
each and every last vestige
vanishing without a trace
exiting out cloaca
subsequently intently watching
toilet bowl royally flush
clockwise if within northern hemisphere
heavy enough to sink submarine
haint no reason yours truly might gush
even if abominable ballast
saves queasy passengers
plummeting thru aerospace.
just moments ago, i went online and tapped Google
if some miraculous spell
could be drawn out of thin air
cause (this house husband
feels a bit embarrassed to divulge),
but at present,
the will to live aye cannot bear
cuz after an ample lather of soap and shampoo,
ah pronounced heady effect became immediately clear
where times gone by
(even as late as early January
tooth how sand and eighteen),
the strands clumped, glommed, and matted together
as sieve ma noggin got sat upon by a deer
no matter after shaking head banging fashion
(imagine rock stars of yore
whipping their wild locks) from ear to e'er
butta noah such dizzy inducing antics
resulted in absolutely no fluffiness,
hence my worse fear
(irrational?) yes, an obsession i.e.
thy hirsute outgrowth fixation dated back
tummy boyhood when cranky gear
and defective cogs somehow impacted
preoccupation concerning
every singular follicle fostering hair
strand, but during prepubescence,
this now grown man took a fancy
to this, that, or the other lad,
who sported a style envied yours truly,
hie wished said thatch tubby upon mine
ma lil oblate spheroid,
and pleaded (weathered and in vane)
with fate to make magically ap pear
this, tis minuscule wiggle room
to muster support from rear
guard, hook offer me wiggle room
asthma body electric goes on a manic tear
precious seconds ticking closer
to the final count down where
this mwm might remain bed ridden
for an entire year.