Long Bathrobe Poems
Long Bathrobe Poems. Below are the most popular long Bathrobe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bathrobe poems by poem length and keyword.
You can take an agency tour
Or a cruise to somewhere exotic.
You can cram onto buses and trains
Or sway on a camel hypnotic.
You can stand on your toes in a group
And try to see o’er the crowd,
To possibly glimpse Mona Lisa
Or hear, though the noise is so loud.
Instead of coming home tired
And set for a week in your bed
Travel the way that’s relaxing
And see more and hear more instead.
I’ve traveled the high Himalayas,
Seen mountains and valleys galore
Trudged with the yaks and porters-
No frostbite, no blizzards, no sores.
From ocean to ocean I’ve wandered
Seen whales and dolphins at play,
Walked in Australia’s Red Center
Without face nets to keep flies away.
I’ve learned much about native people,
Their customs, their habits and lore.
I’ve even been south to Antarctica
And oh, to so many sites more.
And all of this time I was sitting
In my living room lounging chair,
Dressed in pajamas and bathrobe
With books piled around in my lair.
My armchair’s a magical carpet
That whisks me wherever I wish
No planes or lines of security
Just a turn of a page and –whish!
We stay up late to watch the Perseid meteor shower,
late for us now being after 9.
We end up moving our individual lawn chairs to separate parts
of the front lawn,
apparently more interested in our individual views of the heavens
than our proximity as a couple.
We see no meteors
as we watch the stars begin to appear,
but three satellites pass overhead
in less than a minute,
and this makes me feel some wonder
at what humanity has accomplished.
You then go inside
as I start to doze
and return with word that the internet astronomers
have pronounced 4am as the prime viewing time.
So off we go to bed and sleep.
At 4 I wake,
bundle up in an old bathrobe,
and head out into the star covered yard.
Eventually you follow
and we watch as several meteors shower past in as many minutes.
Content that we have seen it,
although definitely less impressed than we remember,
we head back to bed
and sleep.
(for Carol - 8/13/23)
Sports, Sports, Sports
Weather, Weather, Weather
News, News, News
TV's come untethered
Business, Business, Business
Politics left and right
From dawn to dusk, and onto evening
And far into the night
Pundits, Experts, Talking Heads
Some quite lively, some quite dead
Studio audiences and callers-in
Vying to be heard above the din
Hundreds of channels, options galore
Comedies, movies, talk shows and more
For the serious viewer, watch a docu-drama
Decked out in bathrobe, slippers, and pajamas
Is all this really better than the 'good old days'
When there were only four channels, only four ways
To while away the time, potato chips and couch
~ The fare then far superior, I'll bet you'd avouch
The clues are there.
The notes.
The writing.
The phone numbers.
The calendar.
Especially the calendar
holding all the secrets
of what was done and will be done.
He is bent over the cubby-holed desk,
slippers, flannel bathrobe,
searching through the familiar
and seeing only the hidden,
the missing,
the opaque.
The crime?
Something stolen, precious
and worse,
it is just out of sight,
next to the words,
the notes, the writing,
the calendar.
Especially the calendar.
So obvious the number,
the day,
yet not now the season.
He finds her worried face again
and continues.
All those around him
keep it from him-
the secret is-
nothing is gone,
nothing was done.
The detective searches
for himself in the clues
of unravelling time.
A woman says to her dentist, “Don't know what's worse
Having a tooth pulled or having a baby”
Dentist says, “Must adjust the chair to make us more comfortable
So make up your mind, got others waiting”
A Chinese couple had a black baby, named it Sum Ting Wong
Are you giggling and peeing your kimono
Ever wonder what two-headed snakes think of each other
They certainly are aware of each other's aroma
If you have to open your bathrobe, after eating
Need to eat less, meals are much too vast
A month before he died, Uncle Jim covered his back in lard
A month later he slid downhill really fast
Addicted to the hokey pokey till I turned myself around
Hurt my head and banged it all about
Found out adrenalin was brown when I bought a motorbike
Betcha knew I was an old geezer no doubt
My tennis foe didn't like my serve, always kept returning it
Hit one he couldn't reach, friends no more
Gave up my standup routine, people kept laughing at me
Decided to be serious got accolades galore
If your girlfriend starts smoking, just slow down a bit
Or perhaps use a lubricant of some sort
Why can't two Asians have a white baby do you think
Coz two Wongs don't make a white in short
Who is the most popular guy in a nudist colony would you say
One who can carry two coffees and 6 donuts
Working as a teller, a woman asked me to check her balance
Pushed her over, quite unsteady for a grown up
Her bathrobe hangs forgotten by the door.
Her clothes strewn all across the bedroom floor.
And I find that I don’t care anymore
For she’s still with me.
Her makeup takes up all the counter space.
My lonely toothbrush hasn’t got a place.
But now I see it all as such a grace
For she’s still with me.
All I’ve done to break her heart
Should have torn our love apart
Yet, through all those painful days
Still, she stays.
All those nights she sat alone
While I left for parts unknown
Makes me more and more amazed
Still, she stays.
I can’t afford the latest, greatest toys.
And I don’t go out drinking with the boys.
Those old desires fade to background noise
For she’s still with me.
And though my restless heart still longs to roam,
Most evenings you can find me still at home
For she keeps me from being all alone
And she’s still with me.
She could have left long ago.
Packed her bag and hit the road.
Left me wand’ring in a daze.
Still, she stays.
I will never understand
Why she will still take my hand.
Makes me more and more amazed
Still, she stays.
In my World of Yuletide Contentment,
My mind wanders and loses sight of all current memory.
I lay back flat while flying through the full fresh air of aged time
Thinking of Christmases long preserved for the purpose of
Personal Therapy.
All the time the buttons dissipate.
Every moment the touch screens recreate.
Wishes become emotional rescues.
Genuine laughter magically appears at its most grand and best cue.
As I sit in a little corner avoiding the typical kisses from the limelight,
I consume myself under the Mystical Mistletoe of Imagery and let it all kiss my blissless blues away.
The light festivals in my mind inspire candy cane smiles too sweet and spicy to ignore.
Then she comes….so Peaceful in her bathrobe of Serenity.
She teases me to teardrops that fall like a pebble toad escaping a predator.
Everything seems so Retro Better.
All darkness’ nucleuses are drained with the warm ignition of a Love long deferred.
Now when I express joy, she adds decorative ornamentations of Sassafras Sunshine.
Resurrected Tradition is the warm cocoa for my tinged soul.
I begin to Remember Me when Bountiful Flavors of Zest were freely skinny dipping from the Spirit within me.
I am blind to modernization’s sleeperhold cutting off the oxygen and blood supply to my personal effervescence.
Newly Inspired, I begin to celebrate.
However, just as soon as the festivities start,
The alarm of reality rains down on my snow angel creation.
A new, but routine, poetic emotion in motion clocks in and begins to construct.
Nevertheless, what remains is the buttercream taste of Her Saving Grace.
She leaves with me a Recipe of Merriment for next year.
Inspired, I refuel….exponentially excited in Wait….
All is Well for me Today
I hear the tea kettle whistling
I hear the toaster go pop
Birds are happily chirping
I wonder if they are talking to me.
Gonna be a beautiful morning
All is well for me today
In my bathrobe drinking my tea
I put my face to the blue sky
Watching the world fly away
Clouds so fluffy in the sky
Playing hide and seek with me
All is well for me today
Sirens scream in the distance
Someone is mowing their lawn
A smell so familiar
From memories long gone
The leaves are changing color
Autumn is on its way
Winds are blowing so slowly
The trees don’t even sway.
All is well for me today
As I wend my way around curving roads
up high into the mountains
I finally arrive at the Eight Gables Inn.
I wonder what it is that drives me here!
Perhaps I have developed wings
and flew across the Atlantic towards
The Great Smoky Mountains
on my adventurous ride
to the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Tired I hope the Inn
will live up to its reputation.
The sun is setting as I view
the purple orange skies darken,
whilst here and there lights
in desolate cottages twinkle in the dark.
I hasten to my private bath
and slowly sink in the warm water,
overpowered by the smell of soapy foams.
Pleased with my silky skin
I put on a plush bathrobe
luxuriously enjoying the feel
of the soft fabric against my spores,
and with a graceful dive find myself
on top of a feather-top bed.
This is the life of luxury...
Until I feel the taste of blotting paper
that cover my whole mouth.
I open my eyes and know
it was all a dream, alas.
My wife was in the hospital with a condition rather severe,
Her mother came to care for our son so I could visit her there.
After several days and a few long nights I suddenly needed a break
And headed home late one night for a dip in the hot tub to take.
We live in the Pacific Northwest so you know it was rainy and wet,
But with the hot tub being outside it hasn’t stopped me yet.
I didn’t want the towel to get soaked so I hung it over the chair,
And tiptoed across the deck completely and utterly bare.
Now, our back door locks with a bolt or by the handle on the door;
My wife and I only use the bolt and never used the handle before.
I forgot there was a stranger in the house who didn’t know our usual ways,
So I guess telling you I was locked outside is something I don't need to say.
The guest room is in front and she didn’t hear me from the back;
Around the house I had to trek so on her window I could tap.
Our backyard is very private so skinny dipping is our usual norm
The front of the house, not so much, a bathrobe I wished I had worn.
My mother-in-law got quite the sight when she opened the door
I don’t think we have to worry about her visiting us any more
My wife is now fine and back at home recovering oh so well
And about three thousand times a day this story she likes to tell.
True story that just happened about 2 months ago.