Long Chaise lounge Poems
Long Chaise lounge Poems. Below are the most popular long Chaise lounge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chaise lounge poems by poem length and keyword.
You held me in the palm of your hand, You put me in the Earth,
You coddled me: YOU covered me in dirt; anticipating my birth.
I put nature’s warm blanket of fluffy, crisp, snow over my head.
Crawl into a fetal position, and for the duration of winter I go to bed.
Springtime comes, I awake, stretch little arms Towards a yellow strobe.
I feel a warmth from this far away, high in the sky; Brilliant Globe.
I wriggle newborn tiny toes, in the cool, moist, ground; each one grows.
The warm breeze, moves my sapling arms, the sun heats my shoots.
From a tiny, tiny acorn, to the Oak I will become; I can trace my roots.
Through the years, YOU’VE nurtured me, I’VE grown tall and strong.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter the rain sings to me; a sweet and loving song.
Fifty years Together : your old and I’m still young and in my Prime.
You rest in a Chaise lounge under my limbs : Shade in the Summer Time.
My husband wants a big pussy - he's crazy,
draped over chaise-lounge in conservatory,
I said that it would cost a fortune to feed,
to have such an adornment, there is no need.
It would demolish the neighbour's tabby cat,
cause indentations, droppings, wherever it sat;
he said: 'Don't worry, I'll take it for trainimg,'
glimpses of rosettes whenever it's raining.
There might even be pregnant paws, pushing
me aside with it's ****, going thro' open doors,
I'll have to warn friends when they come round:
'It's sleeping now, for godssake don't make a sound.'
So forestall such grandiose ideas whatever you do,
I said to him: 'Please take that cat back to the bloody zoo!'
Here everybody drains the swamp
The chunks of toxic glitter
And brazen meat
Intelligible only to the daunted fool
Who filled it so
Pour the acid wash
Of peace and indulgence
To cleanse the slop o’ plenty
Time for mixes and fixes
That clear paths meant
For hot-air balloon rides
The kind that tussle deep in minds
Your liquid child
Who gulps, swallows and bears
The scorekeeper’s duties
Flits to the sounds of no one
The barracks are full this morning
Everyone spent from their rustic tasks
And yet for each
An adventure conducted
A melee for the me, the you
Which song was meant for
Nature, well-planted
Well-colored and ready to play
Nurture, whipped and spun
By the gunslinger’s steady hand
Brought together by
The collective spirit
Lurking in each room
Strewn, lathered across
Each chaise lounge
Splashing, soaking
In the wet, cool debris
Healthy debris
Doggy bags supplied
To bring home
The leftovers
Eager to be consumed.
(6/10/18)
Word Sonata in B Flat (in 5 Movements)
You know exactly what you’re doing.
You sit in that short red skirt, and
Cross your shiny tan legs, there. Now you
Lean over with full cleavage exposed,
And partake in another draw of smoky seduction;
You can see the dollar signs in my knowing eyes,
And I can see lovely times at poolside,
In your short skirt, and dark glasses.
So cheers! To us, just a couple of cool cats,
Two old hippies,
With lemon drinks, glass bongs, and feathered toys,
Conversing wordlessly in eye language,
Under the searing unzipping sun,
Embracing the approaching nakedness.
Laying out in a chaise lounge with white noses,
Just drying out our souls and bodies,
Drying out our differences with the holding of a draw.
Pass it over here sweetie.
I feel it too, as you sit there,
Staring at me like I’m the package you were expecting,
Last week when the mails didn’t come through,
Due to the storm, and the mud and the misery.
I enjoy women like you.
As you sit there in your short red skirt.
There is a mysterious gloss covering everything you say,
A gooey gloss that smells of electrical wiring,
Something that might make a person sick,
Or maybe bring back a stubborn memory you forgot about
For decades, because you were lost,
Lost inside a rolled-up carpet,
An old rain-ruined rug from 1958, or so,
When times in the backseat meant something to a person.
Now look at us, just a couple of cool cats,
Two old hippies,
Bored and resigned,
Passing reefer until the stoned moment is realized.
Yes, just sitting here looking at you,
I can tell,
You know exactly what you’re doing.
You held me in the palm of your hand, You put me in the Earth,
You coddled me: YOU covered me in dirt; anticipating my birth.
I put nature’s warm blanket of fluffy, crisp, snow over my head.
Crawl into a fetal position, and for the duration of winter I go to bed.
Springtime comes, I awake, stretch little arms Towards a yellow strobe.
I feel a warmth from this far away, high in the sky; Brilliant Globe.
I wriggle newborn tiny toes, in the cool, moist, ground; each one grows.
The warm breeze, moves my sapling arms, the sun heats my shoots.
From a tiny, tiny acorn, to the Oak I will become; I can trace my roots.
Through the years, YOU’VE nurtured me, I’VE grown tall and strong.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter the rain sings to me; a sweet and loving song.
Fifty years Together : your old and I’m still young and in my Prime.
You rest in a Chaise lounge under my limbs : Shade in the Summer Time.
Twenty cigarette ashes in the ivory ashtray
Symbol of the impatience burned as smoke
The inamorata sits in the pink chaise lounge
Waiting for inamorato arriving to love nest
Photos found under the bed tied off an arguing
Another affair developed without her knowledge
Feeling betrayed, although fidelity was not an asset
Stripped photos and dispersed pieces over the bed
Inamorato opened the bedroom door and screamed
Hidden dalliance loomed as as a storm in the future
Reproaches ended with the rupture of unlawful love
Leaving forever the tormentous and sinful romance
(Fictional)
I feel my ears pop,
As the light above me increases ...
Columns of purple sunshine shimmer and dance.
I swim up out of the cool, inky blackness of the depths,
And finally reach the surface, head bobbing like a balloon,
Frilly slits on my neck closing up and sealing, as I switch to breathing air.
I suck the thick oxygen atmosphere deep into my lungs, then exhale.
The detritus from my gills comes up with the first breath, and I spit it away,
(Small creatures that follow me, gobble it up hungrily ... nothing wasted).
I need not struggle swimming on the surface here -
The water's high saline level helps me float without effort,
So I lay back and stretch, relaxing my length, as if in a chaise lounge.
The bright purple sky dances with clouds, (and a couple of bright stars),
Two blood-red suns now low, nearing the horizon.
Though they never set, they do crimp the reach for many hours,
Before climbing again to make the sky near-blue.
Clouds are rarely white, (only when the suns are high),
But vary in shades from crimson to pink,
Again, depending on the time of day and moisture content.
I live above AND below the water here ...
My genetic alterations, (very expensive, thus),
Allow me to extract oxygen from air and water, easily transitioning.
I have long webbed toes and fingers to swim speedily,
Eyes that can detect ultraviolet and infrared,
And something similar to sonar, that I can search the depths with,
And also use to tap into the communication satellites,
As well as send personal messages to others here such as I,
Who have chosen the amphibious life of this purple planet.
I have a house back on the island, with all amenities,
But I rarely go there, choosing instead to spend most of my time
On or near the water, searching the depths for the edibles,
Or sleeping on the beach under the stars,
Composing music and poetry during the day, or visiting friends.
I send my work out onto the inter-world web,
It earns me enough to remain comfortable ... and happy.
But what I love the most, are the other intelligent creatures here ...
Most are "sea" dwellers, but all are non-aggressive.
Learning the language of each will take a lifetime,
But it is a labor of love, with joyous reward ...
Friendship!
marigolds line the path to my outside home
it’s a cottage garden, which gives me joy
against the walls of my she-shed are tall pink hollyhocks
they look like upside down skirts with yellow bloomers showing
they are fuzzy if you graze them gently with a finger
there used to be roses, but they are gone now
a large potted fern waves a friendly hello as I approach
I feel loved here, among those I have planted and nurtured
Never knowing I had a green thumb until I retired.
The joy I derive from my plants cannot be put into words.
I sit back on the chaise lounge cushions and breathe
There is nothing as rejuvenating as country air.
Feeling refreshed. I am in awe of what I have built
apple blossoms above my head tease my eyes to the sky
I thank God for this garden.
Inspired by... All those houses that long to be homes again.
For our house to become a home forever
By Michelle Morris
20/08/2024
I walk through this empty house
And can see it used to be a home
Filled with joy and laughter
A family who shared fun times
There are photos suspended in frames
Filled with memories and smiling moments
There are knick-knacks collected together
Some funny; and some meaningful
Where the sunlight dips through the window
I can see dust motes dancing in swirls
The family dog lounges in his sacred space
On the chaise lounge near the fireplace
Looking closer you start to notice things
Like only photos of young children are present
Every room is like a museum
Or a shrine to a perfect past wish
For we easily forget certain facts and details
In our yearning to keep certain memories perfect
We want to be able to reminisce
And act like things once went smoothly
But the dust has thickened over the years
The cobwebs house spiders that have taken over corners of rooms
The light has grown dim inside this house
And inside hearts where love was once pure
Funny how humans can take something beautiful
And twist it up and test it over and over
Until nothing is left but hearts spent
Empty and oftentimes bitter and resentful
I walk through rooms where time has stood still
I walk through rooms where life has moved on
And everywhere, everywhere there is hopelessness
For love and light no longer reside here
Bricks and mortar and pretty fabrics
Only create a decorated space for us to live
We have to choose who we share it with
And we have to choose how we will forge our lives together
Only with compassion and kindness
Loyalty, patience and respect
Can we create a nurturing environment
For our house to become a home forever
© Michelle Morris, 2024