Best Wettest Poems


Imaginings

If your mindset isn't producing the wettest type of wet, you've forgotten how to dream. How to fall asleep in one state and arise in a realm of possibilities you never thought attainable. 

No matter how many times you've swung and missed, haven't you hit a home run every time you closed your eyes? The girl never kissed bears the softest lips. That's the way imagination ad libs. 

Few have the ability to paint words over reality, but the first time I did I was an alto in someone else's chorus. You were in the soprano section and every lyric seemed to hum your name. 

I can't recall the song, but I remember how you danced in my head. That night when I went to sleep the night air felt like Egyptian cotton. Little did I know, my world was about to change. In an instant, I was destined to always dream of you. 

You, the song and the lyric. The embodiment of spirit. The sum of all parts. The high, the low and chances never taken. The home run traded for a double and kinky phone line wrapped around a finger as we avoided dangling farewells. 

Have your words ever painted us as a picture? I've kissed your canvas a thousand times and wondered if there's anything sweeter than words that paint pictures.
© Ts Lewis  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wettest, writing,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member Dewdrop Dreams

Wettest dewdrop hangs soundless on the edge
Of flashy, cheerful orange red lily
Mirroring emerald green foliage
Balanced close by, aimless, o’er the beauty

Dew drenched pea green shrubbery is carefree
With bright and showy blooms seen everywhere
Bold blue purple and yellow or cherry
Beside soft pinks and deep, dark red fanfare

Exquisite colored hues caught by prayer
Leaving murky shadows across lush grass
Light summer breeze falls across thoroughfare
Caressing, softly touching to surpass

Mild morning dew carries soft melodies
Contented moments spent with elegies







Written on August 10th, 2014
©2014 by Regina Riddle
Categories: wettest, flower, morning,
Form: Sonnet

Worse Than Christine

Worse Than Christine

I am a glutton for punishment, as you shall soon see,
I had an Austin Healey Sprite, or more rightly, it had Me!

Had I looked up the name in Webster’s, I would have known, oh, so well,
That to own and to drive one, was a short trip to Hell!

The word “Sprite” means disembodied spirit, or ghost,
I must say, spirit is what it had the most,

When I say “spirit,” you think that is good,
But I can tell you, only Evil lies under that hood!

Made in England, the wettest civilized country on Earth,
To not waterproof the ignition must have caused them great mirth!

To clean the windshield, I threw a cup of water on it, gave the wipers a tweak,
That miserable creation would not start for a week!

It was one of the smallest, by far,
Some folks did not believe that it was even a car!

There was an advantage to its size,
When the starter was broken(quite often), I could develop my thighs!

There were other parts, that when new, should have been in a dump,
It had the World’s worst, most cantankerous, electric fuel pump!

It would click a few times, then shudder, and stammer,
The only way to fix it, a blow from a hammer!

All the owners had one, tied under the hood,
The rock hard suspension hit the fuel pump real good!

Luckily, in Southern California, there is not too much rain,
Trying to put up the top, an adventure in pain!

I used to donate blood, but when I got the Sprite, I could not go,
Because of cuts and scratches from the top, I was always a quart low!

It was Pure Evil, with no endearing features,
But the final straw, for me, involved the most beautiful creatures,

Fathers would have been happy if they knew what I discovered one night,
It is ABSOLUTELY impossible to get a girl pregnant in an Austin Healey Sprite!
Categories: wettest, funny,
Form: Couplet

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


My This

African, Dutch, Aruba deep sea blue eyes, ebony skin, a beautiful winter snow brite smile, feet of pearls covered in oyster meat, walking miles across cotton soft crocodile tile,  legs of dark golden giraffe necks, the warmest-n-the wettest-n-the smoothest of vagina flesh, emotions temporarily visit heaven through miracle sex, salivating tongues sucking secrets straight out the nipples of her sensitive breast, her anus warm-n-wet, her anus warm-n-fresh, my ***** pleasure gives off a fragrance named yes, she loves this name, her vagina thunderstorms, I love this rain, colorful secretion unlike rainbows I can’t explain, a view only seen once in a blue, silk sheets covered in warm wet goo of a unknown hue, I swim in those eyes, for they’re African, Dutch, Aruba deep sea blue, with words I drew you a beautiful tableau, smile so brite, the earth’s sleepy for the day light stays up all night, she’s the fruit into I bite, the fruit I need 2 live my life, I awoke inside her uterus, what a place 2 live, I saw the whole creation of our kid, what a beautiful woman this is, I love her heartbeat, I love all the gifts she gives, for what a woman she is, my never ending kiss, my sexual bliss, my all that exist, my words drew you, my you, my this, the piece 2 my puzzle that fits, my perfect picture, my you, my this, my never ending kiss, my sexual bliss, my you, my this.

My words drew you, my this
Now you’re alive, give me kiss, I love your bottom lip
Categories: wettest, love, romance, sensual,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member An Ancient Poet's Muse, Just a Playing

An Ancient Poet's Muse, Just A Playing

Snow outside, was whitest white, so I wrote
Cream and butter, sisters on fine tables.
Sang I, out of tune, nobody took note
Now sure, there are true heroes in fables.

Rain outside, was wettest wet, so I penned
Coffee and donuts, brothers in pleasing.
Cried I, cast thee that hard stone, I have sinned
Not really, just old poet teasing!

Sleet outside, was coldest cold, so I spun
Bake me no pies, I tell thee no true lies.
Screamed I, no fresh bread, too tired to run
Why such downpours from big belching skies?

Snow outside, was whitest white, so I wrote
Ancient poet's words, hope thee took kind note!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-08-2017


Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 	112
Categories: wettest, art, creation, food, rain,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member An Old Mammal

Wettest summer in Ontario in the last twenty annuls
Turning quite aquatic, could swim the English Channel
That used to be a big deal
Now it's lost it's appeal
I'm really no hero, just an over-the-hill mammal
Categories: wettest, weather,
Form: Limerick


Whether Weather

March was the merriment of an English high summer as
                     
                     April was being the wettest of the wet, as May could not 

                     make its mind up how to be unique, so autumn in June 

                     topped it by its rallying cry for rain as clouds scud by in the 

                     sky's rush hour, then tree branches start several animated 

                     arguments that lead them to clouting each other, over what 

                     the rest of the year will bring to our perennial topic of     

                                                      conversation
© Peter Dorr  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wettest, nature, autumn,
Form: Free verse

This Pose

2 lips kissed then froze, the heat of passion unfroze this pose, love chose to impregnate our spirits to give birth 2 our souls, your breast I tenderly squeeze, your ******** arose, I gently penetrated your pink pretty rose, those tight walls of your wettest wine, makes me explode, we froze and again, the heat of passion unfroze this pose, love chose 2 open our nose, the scent of love I suppose, the sun shining, the sky fell low, I’m still enjoying your pink pretty rose covered in snow, I love this pose, I love your soul, I love your pink pretty rose ,we can survive the cold, let’s stay froze I love this pose.
Categories: wettest, for her, love, romance,
Form: Free verse

Arturo's Princess

As a burgundy mane of curls envelops her fair complexion, 
Arturo whisks her up in his arms seductively...playfully 
He is not just a beast but a sensitive lover to her 
complex and intimate needs..she longs to feel him 
embrace her body, soul and mind 
and ride the waves of exotic and deep pleasure, 

For Arturo has long been misunderstood 
seemingly confident and serene 
inside he swirled and churned.. 
he knew of his deepest and wettest desires 
as he longed for them amongst the strokes 
of pleasure and climax, 
He watched the moistened petals part 
and wanted his own intimate flower 
to seduce with his intoxicating words, 
Although Arturo could weave a bewitching spell, 
he cared for her with the scarlet mane, 
Their passion was timeless yet a tempest that blew 
winds of hypnotic and earth shattering ecstasy 
He longed to plunge her to the wall 
and take what is his while she raged with emotion 
He craved the taste of her neck and her sweet spot all the more... 
he couldn't help himself..he ached for thew smallest sip 
and then drink from the berried rapture, 
She ravaged him as she turned and convulsed deep inside her body 
He drank of her carnation tinted buds of beauty 
and swallowed her whole and hungered still for more, 
She writhed in pleasure as he was a vapor swirling above her hair, 
her long wings opened wide to show him of their beauty and hidden places 
within one another 
He stiffened at the length of them 
and desired to taste them in his mouth 
and bring her to ultimate heights 
in the midnight skies as his darkened eyes 
looked into hers and the breath drank of the other 
in pitch black night of erotic wonder... 
Arturo would not ever stop loving her 
his precious flower scented with the essence 
of incredible need and passionate lust.
Categories: wettest, fantasy, beauty, flower, beauty,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member Date With the Moon

The sound of a cow peeing
is the wettest sound, let go

like a bucket slush on a barn slab
or so my grandfather used to

say. When my son comes home
I hear his fire hose upstairs

and remember how it was to
decompress so quickly. Grandad 

once came out of the men’s
room shaking his head, and when

I asked why, he said that the room
was full of old men, half of which

couldn’t get started, and the other half
couldn’t stop. It’s my date with the moon

tonight--out the window of the master loo
at 3am. Perfect view, the creek trickling on.
© Craig Sipe  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wettest, age, body, humor,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Elven Berry Cream

It’s true, the afternoon is young;
I’ll make a bet:
Before the sun has set,
Strawberries will have sprung
From underneath your tongue.

Delectable, yes, tres delish
You won’t forget: 
Exceeded, not just met,
Beyond your wildest wish,
A creamy berry dish.

The finest, richest creams -
The forest elves
Again outdid themselves:
Confectionary dreams
From unicorns, it seems.

In fields of magic dust,
Wild-grown berries
Picked by woodland fairies:
A culinary must,
A name the elvish trust.

Sweet crystals, careful mined
Where dragons roar,
Demanding always more.
By serpent’s fire refined,
Then stolen from them blind.

Stirred over elvish flame,
The paddles turned
By giant ogres, learned
Before before the dark lord came
and sullied their great name.

Quick-flashed in icy streams,
Both fluff and stiff,
A jazzy berry riff,
With old world notes it teems,
A tastebud’s wettest dreams.

Alas, we must regroup!
Supply chain blues,
There is no time to lose:
Store-bought, pink berry goop -
Perhaps a double scoop?

—————

for the Ice Cream Poetry Contest
sponsored by Julia Ward
written 06/21/2022
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wettest, fantasy, food,
Form: Rhyme

Our Love

Our Love

My heart starts aching late at night,
When I start dreaming of you.
Remembering all the memories of light,
All the good times and the bad with the feelings due.
I'm crying every night,
Because of all we lost.
I remember when our love shinned bright,
Now the light smoldered by the cost.
My love for you,
Is true.

I'm sorry that or love has died,
Black as the darkness of a winter night.
I can't imagine that you cried,
Not even in the wettest winter night.

Now I came strolling by,
Looked through the window and saw him.
I tried my best not to cry,
As the light in my heart grew dim.
I tore up the flowers I bought.

I thought about busting down the door,
But there's nothing to say
That I haven't said before.

Now I just continue strolling,
Around the corner and down the street.
And I still don't know
Why things happened like they did,
But I just walked on home,
And dreamt of what I dare not did.

Now I just lay there,
Like my heart has fallen out.
I miss you dear,
But now my light has burnt out.
My love for you,
Was true.

06/06/1999
Categories: wettest, lost love, heart, winter,
Form: Free verse

Cant Be Trusted

With diamond like skin, she cut me deep with her venomous attitude 
Frustrated at the sound of her voice,
nauseous at the smell of her breath
My blood pressure boils angrily,
turning my head into a tea pot
As she slithers closer to me, my skin begins to crawl
For she is slimy like the wettest reptile
Categories: wettest, abuse, anxiety, fear,
Form: Ode

Premium Member Summer, Finally

It's late August, summer's finally arrived
Up until now, we've really been deprived
Rain up to our ears
In all my years
The wettest summer since Jack was baptized
Categories: wettest, weather,
Form: Limerick

Rain

Rain beating down
covering everything it touches
in a liquid molten way
rivulets of the liquid stuff
weave their way
down the hill
pooling
at the bottom
creating a pond in which children can play

Rain plus sunshine
a life giving pair
showers the foliage and grass
producing flowers so rare
this rain
keeps pounding down on my head
flashes of water
sprayed up from the cars
as they hydroplane in comic motion
and drizzle it's spit from their fenders
this lovely rain
a wonderful change
from the most arid of days
to the wettest of ways.
Categories: wettest, nature
Form:
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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