Long Breasted Poems
Long Breasted Poems. Below are the most popular long Breasted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breasted poems by poem length and keyword.
The only sound is the euphony of birdsong.
The view, the lush greenness of the garden.
The coo of the pigeon and the ‘cheer up' of the
red-breasted robin sitting so close-by on the wall.
My mind is still; captivated in the moment.
Undulating thoughts drifting in and ambling out:
Staring into the still water of reflection, pausing to repercuss
on how it was in the chaos of ‘then' - before the birdsong.
The cacophony of calamity that surrounded me:
teetering on the brink of imminent destruction:
a tightrope, bar wobbling, as I precariously, tentatively,
tip-toed over the precipIce of indecision, eventually breaking free.
Now the only sound is the euphony of birdsong.
the sun lighting up the greenness of the garden.
and glimmering, nurturing the germinating seeds of hope
that are thriving , blooming in greenhouse of my mind.
I: Sheep
next door to 19 chimneys
and 'the dark satanic mills'
a flock of sheep is grazing
oblivious in the hills.
II: Other Animals
venezuelan poodle moths
sea pigs, star-nosed moles
mata matas, sugar gliders
shoats and water voles.
aye-ayes, dik-diks, wobbegongs
chicken turtles, loons
shoebills, snipes and yeti crabs
and cozumel raccoons.
pink fairy armadillos
bilbys, 52-hertz whales
the red-lipped batfish, panda ants
and emperor helmet snails.
the pleasing fungus beetles, thrips
hellbenders, great potoos
lilac breasted rollers, bongos
glass frogs, kinkajous.
the rare long-wattled umbrellabirds
chubs and munchkin cats
satanic leaf-tailed geckos, shads
gars, nits and fancy rats.
We are accustomed to a variety birds who, after we fill our feeders, find a way
to fly up, perch a while and have a snack or two every day.
It’s usually the same birds each day with quiet smiles we greet
but recently a Rose-breasted grosbeak happened by for a bite to eat.
We realized when it came to our visitors
he was a different bird from all the rest
by the bright red triangle like a Superman emblem emblazoned on his chest.
He visited the feeder off and on…overcoming his initial instinctive fear
then brought along his son or daughter…when he knew the coast was clear.
What we witnessed next was one of the beauties of nature…
a beauty that’s second to none…
when that rose-breasted grosbeak took seeds from our feeder
and fed them to his son…
Or daughter…it’s difficult to tell since I’m not an ornithologist.
but son or daughter this is one moment we wouldn’t have wanted to miss.
Because as we watched the father feed his fledgling…
as they performed this beautiful gastronomic ballet…
we were reminded of the circle of life and the important part that parents play.
How all parents want to keep their offspring safe…are tryin to do their best
whether it’s a human being like me…or a bird with a red triangle on its chest.
How all parents should be feeding, housing, protecting and celebrating
the little ones whose lives they all had a big part in creating.
As I look around at what we humans are doing to one another…
with our wars, our prejudices…our abusive and hateful words….
I sometimes wish we were less like humans…
and a little more like the birds.
Oh sweetest breeze carry me home
to fields of nectar-green
So I may rest my tired back
against the gentle old oak tree
I'll carve my name into its trunk
and seal it with my love
I blow a kiss with painted lips
that match the colour of my heart.
And when the moon deceives the dusk
with its persistent glowing light
Those unique limbs will reach for me
to keep me safe, they will protect me in the wild.
I'd nestle 'tween their tender strength
as spuming stars fill up the night.
And when at dawn the sun will rise
with molten gold warming my eyes
This skin will bathe in drops of dew
dripping from leaves of painters' sleeves
splashed with a glossy silver-hue.
The birds will fly out of their nests
cloaked in their fur red-breasted dress
They 'll sing to us,along we'll sway
like fresh-cut blossoms blooming in May.
Oh sweetest breeze carry me home
to fields of nectar-green
So I may rest my tired back
against the gentle old oak tree .
Oh sweetest breeze where is that place,
Where Is the place I call my own
Is there a voice , Is there a wind
Is there an oak tree calling me home?
The King of Mythical Endurance
Ate curry with his gilded spoon
Whilst watching his court dancers
Perform the ceremonies of the moon
Four and twenty picked maidens
Each chosen to his taste
Each full breasted proudly
With an hour glass waist
The King of Mythical Endurance
Dipped a biscuit in his tea
While the dancers of the court
Moved in links of three
Bowing to His Majesty
Bowing to His Queen
Bowing to the courtiers
Making up that palace scene
The King of Mythical Endurance
Barely suppressed his yawn
For night had quickly passed
To fast approaching dawn
Dismissed those assembled
With a gesture of his head
And the master of his chamber
Tucked him tightly up in bed
The King of Mythical Endurance
Slept soundly through the day
While the attendants of his court
Cleared all the mess away
Labouring intensely
Until all was sparkling bright
For the next entertainment
That very same night
The King of Mythical Endurance
Just the latest of that name
Trapped in a life where
Every day was just the same
Bowed to his latest mustress
Bowed to his Royal Wife
And sometimes wondered about
The sheer boredom of his life
Winter's icy streams funnel low
Frosty beams on pine needles
glow
A menacing wind seeps
through thatched window
Below, fibrous carpet cloaked
with satin plateau
Snowy wood with furry dander
doth flow
Mule deer nestle with fatty
reserves in tow
Wild boars root 'neath the
milky tallow
Red foxes scavenge for prey
along the hedgerow
Pensive hares prat through the
silken meadow
Black bears take shelter in
sleepy hollow
Sparring woodchucks bristle in
the frothy undertow
Spotted owls reconnoiter each
frozen crevice, sealed burrow
Orange-breasted sparrows
their winter anthem bellow
Jittery squirrels scurry about
searching for nutty escrow
With the incoming sounds of spring, a resurrection of life,
the chilliness flees. Quote _ by Poet
Ready for a new season, Spring birds
Shake off winter; embracing
The bonniest warmness weather,
Babies born, and color of nature's crowns.
Scarlet Tanagers chatter, flying round,
Feasting on caterpillar's slowness
And beetles boring away that are found;
whilst
Eternal sunlight reft through sturdy limbs
And myriad leaves of the mighty old oak;
Rapid rhythm clatter drum sounds
Of the Woodpecker on its breast shout.
A hum, a garden faintly woo a smile
At song sung by pretty red feather Robin dancing.
A sweet kiss, a seed, the male Cardinal
Feeds his blush pretty mate favor.
Yonder pond, tree boughs
Teasing the water's edge
Whilst
Little Mallard ducklings
Follow mamma to the bank.
Bluebird builds her nest
Right in the heart of the sprouting
Redbud flowering tree.
Camouflage in the red begonia
An orange breasted Oriole
With its sweet enchanting sound.
On the horizon the fire fades out,
Hush around in high perch, tiny roosting
Cold blue moon comes into sight.
Fannie Strumpet is a flatulent floozy
With each wiggle her rump lets out a doozy
She blows out so much gas
Foul vapor from her a$$
It's asphyxiating and makes me woozy
Fannie lets 'em rip without hesitation
When I point a finger in accusation
She points hers back at me
and laughs saying, "Phew Wee!"
I'm tempted to enact strangulation
I threatened to have the woman arrested
Indecently walking around bare breasted
She farted in my face
Through her panties of lace
I think I was infected and molested
One night Fannie was with a man she'd just met
When she tooted he left, much to her regret
Rectal fumes exploded
He screamed, "You're corroded!"
Her tail expels toxins like a gas jet
Fannie saw a doctor of proctology
She farted without making an apology
She disgusted him so
He said, "Madame, just go.
You're a noxious threat to world ecology!"
I don't fear being assaulted by her smut
She was sued; the case was open and shut
The streets no longer stink
Cuz Fannie's in the clink
For hiding lethal weapons in her butt
October 1, 2021
May the Gas Be With You-Farts Part 2 Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Splish splash splash;
It is a colorful blash;
A brown leaf floats in a bathtub,
Does a leaf make noise, I doubt!!!
Yup!!! A little colorful leaf,
plunges into the bath;
Makes a sigh as a sign of relief;
Soon, other leaves join the path
Spattering the drops,
They do hop;
Here, over there,
And everywhere.
The leaves play, they giggle;
They spray , they wiggle;
They make fun, they relish;
O! I could be these leaves, I wish.
Hey! Wait!!!
How come the leaves look so cute!!!
Oh, they are Munias!!!
Scaly breasted Munias!!!
Like the splashes they splatter,
My worries they spatter
Cute little munchkin peers
Make me shed happy tears after years...
02-June-2025
The lamb of March morphs into a lion,
and with a roar, Winter asserts its might.
As the Pleiades flee from Orion,
the lamb of March morphs into a lion.
Late flurries bury the dandelion,
denying shoots warmth and essential light.
The lamb of March morphs into a lion,
and with a roar, Winter asserts its might.
Denying shoots warmth and essential light:
Spring's earliest blooms may wither and die.
Winter's reign is almost through, but not quite;
denying shoots warmth and essential light.
Red-breasted Robins are a welcome sight,
as tepid breezes summon them to fly.
Denying shoots warmth and essential light;
Spring's earliest blooms may wither and die.
As tepid breezes summon them to fly;
flocks of migrating songbirds head back home.
Yes, they're coming, not a word of a lie,
as tepid breezes summon them to fly.
Unaware that March tends to go awry,
they arrive in a land of monochrome.
As tepid breezes summon them to fly;
flocks of migrating songbirds head back home.