Best Lounging Poems

October Sun, Gifts Bright Colors Galore
   
Remember Spring's green now passed away,
  Its soft-laid flowers in meadows that thrill;
  Cascading upon...

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Ascending towering mountains with the greatest of ease,
laughing as foliage tickles my tummy with soft, feathery leaves.

Endless melodies, I have played, breezing through dangling chimes,
luring...

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Rio de Janeiro, a city by the shore:
Home to Ipanema, Carnival and dance folklore.
As a child, of you I read, from books that showed your...

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'Twas a dark and stormy night! (OK - so I'm being a tad histrionic!)
The Earl of Pence was lounging by the fire sipping his gin...

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The boatman jabbered, “Ten rupees for each,
For a cool ride down the Chilika Lake”,
We egged on the elders, their child within,

The wooden boat, barely a...

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Leaping in barefoot abandon
Soaring every which way from Sunday
Laughter effortlessly exhaling cool breezes.

Lounging on nature’s lush carpet
Silhouette illumined by carefree serenity 
Lapping up rays and...

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(Re Old Poems)



 
A gaggle of girls lounging in the sun,
In the green grass many pairs of legs, stretched out
clad in their blue jeans.
My old...

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We set sail as Reggae music played out on the Lido.
Our first night was casual; no need for tuxedo.
We could eat a pizza by the...

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Lilies plush, in coral-pink, titivate tidy yards
Swaying gracefully by manicured green lawns,
Alluring his glance there shadows dance
Where rabbits chase, and squirrels scurry by.

The lady in...

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When a child if gifted with a book it transforms into a key to unlock the mind.  The gate to the secret garden of...

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Allow me ~ to be your dream of dawning
When song of love the robins are singing
While rustles of trees whisper to soft winds
And golden morning...

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It was July when I watched an elderly man
Lounging  on the same bench to gather his thoughts,
As fingers  picked  worn-out notes…bowing low
Seemingly...

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There is no poetry without you  


Softly flows the sunset colors
painted on tired skies with fire
Igniting a wafting cloud in orchid tints,
the fresh scent...

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I can think of no better contentment that can be had,
Lounging in my robe and slippers comfortably clad,
Than relaxing by the hearth in my favorite...

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WASTED WORDS


Lounging near sleep and lingering time
are Eliot, Dylan and I.
We discuss preposterously shaped women
and laugh ‘til our heads roll down
the stairs and onto the...

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