Red, yellow, brown and green
All colours will be seen
Love this time of year ~ fill your cup
Hot chocolate, hats , scarfs gloves cosy up
Log fires lite in gardens brings dazzled light
As days get shorter ~ blazing sight
Kicking leaves, roasting chestnuts magic in the air
Sailing home to England
o'er the bounding main
oh to see those white cliffs
fields of green and feel the rain again
sailed away for a year and a day
an albatross following t'was a good sign
with wings wide-spread overhead
'tween tropics weather was fair all was fine
sailors know where the trade winds blow
and trust their compass true
but my days a'roving the briny deep are now done
I'm rolling down a rhumb line arc to you
Tolerance--
With All The Hippies
And Hill-Billies On
The Blooming Fringes
Of All Our Thoughts...
Soft And Warm,
Contrary To Hope...
Here And There...
Tolerance To
Cope...
Clear Your Intolerance
To Yourselves,
Like A Log Jam
In The Flowing
Heart.
Your Own Thoughts.
Your Own Logs.
Well, To At Least
Tolerate My Own,
You Know...
***Unconditional***
-Gray Squirrel
06-30-2026
For me to be
in a log cabin with you
on a cold winter night,
counting the stars,
touching the moonlight,
as feelings of passion ignite
a fire in our hearts,
and when we kiss,
we reach a higher level
of bliss,
and I'll be the first to admit,
there is no where in the world
I'd rather be,
then right here with you,
you see,
for me to be
in a log cabin with you
on a cold winter night,
sipping glasses of wine,
as we hold each other tight,
and I whisper soft phrases,
intimate praises
in your ear,
as I emotionally disappear
into you,
and we become 'one',
there is no where in the world
I'd rather be,
then right here with you,
you see,
for me to be
in a log cabin with you
on a cold winter night,
making love endlessly,
all through the night,
creating our own paradise,
from sunset to sunrise,
this is what life's all about,
there is no where in the world
I'd rather be,
then right here with you,
in a log cabin
on a cold winter night.
Into the flames
I pitched the final log,
that I had cut with special care.
Not meant for the fire though,
but to carve names upon.
The names of lovers.
Into the flames
I pitched a final dream -
hallucinating as a child
through a romantic eye.
Seeing shadows in the vapours,
that might have been lovers.
One last look
I remind myself
before the draught takes all.
And a memory hangs there
for a moment.
Disappearing without a word -
the silence of a lover's farewell.
.
azzzzz thuh
wizzzard
bamb
i mean
poof
'tain't cinderella
ain't red
l'il
whut's'er name
or no
goldilocks
bamb
i meant wooosh (did too)
she cute though
appalicious
bamb
cute
,)>
*appalicious; mine portmanteau for,
appalachian ~and~ delicious
who luvz yuh <]')
Some forms of soup both hot and cold to exercise the stomach, there's quite a few
borscht, gazpacho, minestrone, mulligatawny, cock a leekie and there's a gumbo too
So many forms of poetry to exercise the mind,
ABC, Cape diem, Crown of Sonnets, Double Dactyl, Villanic and Verse,
Could it be that soup and poetry are somehow aligned ?
For all the years of consuming many different kinds of soup, a natural way made sense
This new found discovery of poetic form, yet come to grips
It's still in a metaphoric thinking paddock, divided by a fence
Learning sometimes feels like mind is travelling in a thick pea souper fog
A diversion, clearly now the time is ripe, on a different site will log
And yes there is alignment !! Found a literary group
Wondered why it took so long to discover Poetry Soup
Wandering the world
in far-flung foreign lands
I found myself
in the capable hands
of total strangers
whose innate curiosity
was matched only
by overt generosity
poor tho' they were
yet never complaining
their politeness and hospitality
was life-sustaining
one can only hope
should they call my name
I am able to repay the favour
and gratefully provide the same
Christmas morn
The sunshine woke
Daylight in maneuver in children’s eyes
Word to the wise
Santa Claus came and went during the midnight hour, and ventured back to the North Pole until next year
Children hurried downstairs to see what gifts they got
Like it or not
Fireplace warmth
Christmas story all children would appreciate
Reindeers and Santa in the sleigh ride
Toys and assorted gifts of all kinds Santa would provide
Children’s dreams on Christmas eve night
Silent night being calm with twinkling stars
House to House
Santa in a hurry
Schedule in tact
Unloading presents from bag sack
Down the chimney Santa went
A time well spent
Up the chimney back to his reindeer
Santa shouted, “Dash away Dash away”
Merry Christmas to all in his getaway
Later, Santa and his reindeer disappeared into the night
Children all say thank you Santa
Winter feel
Christmas love
Christmas came and went
Until next year to see Santa again
Santa observes if children are bad or good
Christmas now and forever
Merry Christmas
I took the road less traveled
to hear if a falling tree
with no one around
aside from me
(yours truly)
does make a sound
but lost my way
in the bewilderness
veered far astray
and for the life of me
couldn't see
the forest for the trees
but if I could
it would feel so good
not a bump on a log nor lump on a stump
as then I'd be out of the woods
babies on her back
the possum crossed the river
a log was her bridge
.
Bam
into
the tender
(i meant timber)
he plow'd hiz wedge
Bam
Once there was a log
Floating downstream
On a swift-flowing river
Towards a sawmill.
And, on that log,
Perched on a loose patch of bark,
Behind a broken limb,
There was an ant.
The ant didn’t know about the sawmill.
He did not hear the rushing water.
He couldn’t tell the size of the log,
Or perceive the danger he was in.
On that piece of bark, the ant was king,
Ruler of all that he could see.
So, he began to issue orders to the log,
“Go left – now turn right!”
Then, that log entered the sawmill,
And was gone in a pile of boards and dust.
That ant was gone then too.
All that remained was the river.
We all too often think,
“I’m the center of my world”.
We should remember that ant.
Look out farther than your patch of bark.
(freed-verse) / (reversal)
- be -
(reverse all) / (free verse)
- knot -
len
Rotted wood splinters
Shiny beetles run amok
Mushrooms guard the door
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.