Long Chase away Poems
Long Chase away Poems. Below are the most popular long Chase away by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chase away poems by poem length and keyword.
All you kiddies out there
It's “The Jellybean Bear!”
He's coming to give you a hug
Flying in on a kite
A real happy sight
He'll give your heartstrings a tug
He'll wrap you up tight
In that bear hug of his
Suddenly you'll feel warm inside
All of your cares
Those scary nightmares
Will melt and be all cast aside!
“The Jelly Bean Bear”
Doesn't charge for his service
He just likes to help little tots
You see when he hugs you
It makes him feel good too
And he breaks out in tiny red spots!
It's really not serious
In fact he's quite proud
To display them in any old place
A sign that kids love him
He'll be over the top
With the biggest darn grin on his face!
So when you're a bit down
Don't call in a clown
Call for the “Jelly Bean Bear”
He'll fix you right up
With bunches of hugs
And chase away all of your cares!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Minding other peoples’ affairs or businesses
Some villainous pundits or vile hyenas are the best
In simply doing just that, comrades. They ignore
Their own problems. They leave a huge door
Ajar, wide open, so they can put their flagitious nose
In their neighbors’ personal businesses or affairs
Please, always have the fireman’s water hose
Ready, in check and in full force in order to shower
Them with love, pity, comprehension and compassion
Because their primigenial tongue is way too long
For their mouth to handle or encase. Please bless them
With Holy water and incense, in order to chase away
Or to obliterate the viruses in them. For them, night is day
As they are confused and lost in the corridors of Gotham
Gossipers are liars, predators, sinners and troublemakers
They don’t want peace. They don’t like peace
They want wars and skirmishes. They have a list
Of nefarious or unholy things outside the craters
That they want to implement in order to destroy
Good and decent human beings. Their tongue is a deadly toy
At all times, be aware of the culture and the environment
The venomous caterpillars and the evil bees are ubiquitous
And never forget to use a special spray, which is inodorous
Or a special glare, which can shame them on the pavement
Many of you who know exactly what I am talking about
Expose them, denounce them and force them to change route
That’s the way to discourage or to defeat the evil worshippers
The hypocrites, the quislings and the professional gossipers
Who are minding other peoples’ affairs or businesses.
Copyright © January 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
No one ever had a more devoted super patron.
He marveled at every painting and poem I thought up.
He cheered at each of my gaudy crazy color choices,
He toasted all my thoughts with a golden glass tribute cup.
He wanted to buy all, the first time I had a white arts and crafts carnival tent.
I was against this of course, wanting a chance to sell to others, to share my soul.
This life is not yours, he said, you are more sensitive, artistic, heaven-sent.
But I wanted to sell to excited children, and their mothers, that was my goal.
My marvelous patron talked me into selling online, and that worked out for a bit.
I was gleeful and happy and awhirl with joy with each sale, so tried and true.
But when I went to visit him, and saw each painting in his home, I threw a hissy fit.
I wanted to sell to others, I said, I didn’t want all of them to be sold to you.
Now when I sell a painting or a poem, I run home all aquiver, excitedly glad.
Sales always chase away any insane feelings of disappointment or unexpected gloom.
I have a patron who believes in me, a man who is honest, and never a cad.
Best of all, to deliver it, all I have to do is walk to my own living room.
Beneath the velvet shroud of night,
where shadows weep,
I weave a melody of sorrow,
secrets I must keep.
No malice meant, no cruel design,
just longing's sting,
To paint your smile on moonlit clouds,
a song my heart would sing.
In every sigh, a nocturne's grace,
a cosmic ballet spun,
Where pain and beauty waltz as one,
by whispers of the sun.
My canvas bleeds with indigo,
a symphony's command,
To chase away the shadows there,
and hold your laughing hand.
Oh, let the lyre of dawn ignite,
on strings of memory,
A dance of souls,
where past and present weave tapestry.
In echoes born of wind and tide,
where moonbeams softly gleam,
I yearn to see you pirouette,
a radiant, joyful dream.
No merchant's bargain binds this art,
no currency of fame,
Just whispers on the starlight's breath,
a whispered lover's name.
Across the cosmic canvas vast,
where galaxies convene,
My brush seeks only your delight,
your laughter bathed in sheen.
So let the purple rain descend,
a curtain for our stage,
Where every drop, a crystal kiss,
turns grief to gilded page.
For in this symphony of woe,
where hope's last ember glows,
My heart finds solace, finding you,
where laughter overflows.
:: 01.15.2024 ::
the psychic reader was gorgeous from her neck to her nose
her bright brown eyes were star-like, with angelic glows
I immediately felt comfortable, as she asked my permission
to hold my hands, so she could complete her mission
She told me things about me I had forgotten myself
Took out an astrology book from an upper shelf
Gave me some tips on what else I could do
To be happier yet, and chase away every blue
Her insight was remarkable, her empathy intact
I was still thinking about my reading years after the fact
this psychic reader had me under a Bohemian spell
She knew me better than me; she knew me quite well
SPRING AT LAST
The long awaited spring has come today
To chase away long winter months of gloom.
Unprecedented floods have drained away
And crocuses are bursting into bloom.
The soggy, overflowing bags of sand
Are slowly disappearing from the scene.
The farmers gratefully reclaim their land
And watch as muddy brown returns to green.
The signs spring has been waiting for are done.
The clocks are forward, Mother’s Day has passed.
Six-nations rugby has been played and won.
And Oxbridge crews have reached Mortlake at last.
Now nature has the freedom to perform
Her annual miracle when life’s reborn
4th May 2020
Spring Rhyme Contest
Sponsor - Emile Pinet
In a velvet night, where dreams entwine with the shadows of the moon,
Where thoughts flow like a river of memories, and the soul stirs with each whisper,
I wonder, my beloved, if my longing has ever touched your heart.
Was I ever a star in your universe, or just a shadow on the edge of your dreams?
When you get lost in the crowd and the world hurts you, you come to me, into my arms,
And I, like a night flower, open my petals to soothe you, to chase away your pains.
But I wonder, in the silence that surrounds us, if you ever truly saw me,
If you ever saw in my eyes the ocean of uncried tears, the unspoken desires,
Or if you just sought refuge in my quiet, a temporary shelter for broken hearts.
I remember the days when we were together, silence speaking more than words,
Our embraces, like unspoken promises, gave me hope, chased away my fears.
But now, in the shadow of loneliness, I wonder if I was ever enough for you.
Oh, how I wish to shout your name, to tell you my soul is laden with unspoken desires,
But words are lost, my lips tremble, and only my eyes can show you the truth,
The truth that, though I am shattered, I still love you, and will let you take me, if you ask for me from your heart.
In your stories, in your poems, was I ever a verse, a rhyme, a metaphor?
Or was I just a shadow, a fleeting reflection in the mirror of your soul?
I, like an undying flame, wait for you, love you, and hope that one day you will ask too,
If I am okay, if my soul can still smile, if my heart can still love.
I will love you as I always have, without asking for anything in return,
But, my beloved, please, ask me too, if I am okay,
For though I have been shattered so many times, I will always let you take me,
If you ask for me from your heart, if you see in my eyes, I still wait for you, still love you.
Medicine woman She came to my aid,
Into my eyes she looked deeply one day.
Long ago before I could even count.
"From an Aspen grove is where you grow,
And your seasons shall be four. Notes
Of 7 you'll sing to heaven, but not a drop
Will you take from the Snake at the door.
A trickster plays the sweetest song,
Pretends a friend before the day is done.
Mother cries in the wind "it's not a cigar"
Take it to your mouth, then spit it far.
Make well the body by thoughts of mind
Stay strong in the heart by staying kind
And chase away fear that renders you blind."
Marked She on my leg to remember that,
Not a drop from the Snake, so said the Bat.
Incomplete in the make for a Dragon's cat.
Form:
I am in need of tenderness tonight
Of loving words to banish fear from sight
I need to be wrapped up in warm embrace
To feel the balm of kisses on my face
I am in need of gentlest caress
To feel secure as cravings I express
I am in need to hear love’s sweet refrain
To have pure joy to chase away my pain
I need to feel the warmth of ardent kiss
To quench my thirst from fount of lover’s bliss
I am in need to hear your pounding heart
A rhythmic pledge from me you’ll never part
These needs are raw and beg to be fulfilled
Tis with your song of love my needs are stilled
E I L E E N M A N A S S I A N G H A L I
Ah, sweet slumber of nip-laden dreams;
the milk of mother moon bestowed,
a blessed drink and lactose-free
to this mine humble, feline throat.
Running freely through outer space,
I touch upon thy blessed universe.
My home of emerald and lapis lace,
is where in I lay in furred repose.
Chasing neon rainbows in nebulae bright,
my dreams are filled with gold doubloons.
I’ll spend them on treats and nip-delight,
and chase away any greedy tycoons.
A feline black as obsidian night,
in a home filled with human love;
among the faeries and tree sprites,
mind flies just like the doves.