Long Chirped Poems
Long Chirped Poems. Below are the most popular long Chirped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chirped poems by poem length and keyword.
Once upon a shiny polished day, the sun shone bright as golden ray
and in the park where the children played the puppies danced ballet
The kittens meowed from their outdoor yum cafe
and the birds chirped from the trees while they surveyed
the pretty ducklings waddling in the pond, hurray hurray !
Once upon a starlit night the moon smiled sweetly at the sea
and in the river all the loons echoed across the lake, woo wee
The owl gave a hoot and the foxes slept tee hee
while the rabbit stretched and caught a snack or three
Once upon a fairytale a little Pixie cast a spell
and all the sicklies of the forest were suddenly made well
each precious creature went pell-mell at the sound of a Fairy's Bell
while all the ogres, trolls and elves, tap danced on a chanterelle.
Sponsor BJ Legros Kelley
Contest Name Write a Sweet Fairytale For Children
In amongst the burning trees
Stood a creature still as breeze
In its eyes burned a fire
Its contagion was its strange attire.
There about its godly perch
I lost all senses as it chirped
its vessel bore the marks of greed
Its beak inscribed a slave's decree
And when it suddenly spoke to me
My heart came empty, skipped a beat
For shock was not the words there spoken
But of its tone and raw emotion
There I listened to its pain
How man had made it feel disgrace
Instead of healing or pain erase
Was forced to bid man's selfish gain
And as Lady Star drifted away
so to the phoenix burst into flames
Carnage in a cloud of ashes
Memories left were subtly passive
Was I to quiet my soul to sleep!
Pretend next lifetime explores peace
These thoughts left me in shock of dread
that all things living must grovel and beg.
In a glen where the mushrooms glow soft blue,
Lived a critter who loved to change his view.
A pooka by name, with a golden eye,
He’d start as a hare, and then—why not?—fly!
Poof! went the tail as it turned to a feather,
Changing his suit to suit the weather.
“Too sunny for fur!” he chirped with a grin,
And turned to a dolphin to jump right in—
Wait, that was a pond, just a small muddy puddle,
So he turned into a frog on a sunny-day muddle.
He popped out of the mud as a bright orange fox,
Then turned to a moss-covered, sleeping grey rock.
He tickled the badger, he startled the deer,
Whispering jokes in their unsuspecting ear.
Then off he went dancing, a shaggy old hound,
Before shifting back to his own silly sound.
With a mischievous giggle and a spark in his eye,
He’ll be something new when the moon hits the sky.
The crescent moon spoke quarter truths
glowing yellow orange
in the evening sky.
Crickets and katydids chirped loud and incessant
and the gray day sky revealed
streaks of red, orange and purple.
A last appearance of the sun light grazed the heavens
brilliant yellow in the setting apparitions
as the trees remained still in the windless dusk.
Off to the west all settled still and quiet
but to the east, the ocean waves churned loud
and the fading tropical storm cried out again.
Storm surge, pounding surf echoed in deafening sounds
pulling sand out to the ocean floor
calling back in foolish unheard cries.
Surfers, swimmers, onlookers are few
most escaped to safety and retreat
to higher shores to wait the passing storm.
Every spring a noisy revelry rise.
In a greeny mood, green sights entice.
Soft buds suddenly bloom.
Smooth feathers growing calm.
A knight chirped greet to natural spring,
His love eyes float of living thing.
My slight gigling, his song diped.
With smiling lips, green rain poured.
Greenly love sprouted at dawn.
It become classic beauty in the lawn.
I touch the pearl drops,
Lights flashing at grass.
Love memories, i forget mine.
My trance inhale, odour green shine.
I weaved a garland, sweet dreams with green.
A green leaf think to be lean.
In a martyr tomb, autumn grief.
Loud cry, there is no tear in the leaf.
Fondling garland groan for wreath.
Immortal pigment again my breathe.
The longing cherish never lies.
The green shadow never dies.
Beside the Fountain
Tough trekking took us on top of mountain.
Flocks of birds chirped, chattered to entertain.
We two sitting in front of a fountain.
From fantastic fountain oozing droplets,
glistening like diamonds on my wristlets.
We enjoyed most precious moments.
Our joint venture attained victory.
Success adored us with crown of glory.
Each droplet of fountain told our story.
03/14/17
PRECIOUS MOMENTS Contest by Kim Rodrigues
Old Man Winter grumbled and frowned,
Said, "Spring's taking way too long to come 'round!"
But a robin, so bold, chirped up from a tree,
"Relax, grumpy Gus, change is the key!”
Flowers peeked out, with a shy little smile,
Said, "Winter, don't fret, we'll be here a while!"
The grumpy old man, with a huff and a puff,
Melted away in a sunshiny fluff.
Caterpillars wiggled, "We're tired of this crawl,
Time to transform, and answer the call!"
They spun silken cocoons, hung high in the breeze,
And emerged as butterflies, flitting with ease.
Rivers they rushed, with a gurgling glee,
Carving new paths, to the welcoming sea.
The mountains stood tall, with a wisdom untold,
Whispered, "Change is the story, both young and old.”
The sun dipped low, with a fiery goodbye,
But promised to rise, with a brand new sky.
The stars winked and twinkled, then faded from sight,
Knowing the dawn brings a beautiful light.
Change, it isn't scary, it's nature's delight,
A constant refreshing, both day and night.
So shed what you must let go of the past,
Embrace the new season, that's here to outlast!
Eons ago, near two flowing rivers in old China
Lived an old, white clothed man ninety-nine years of age
Who glared at two mountains he knew from his long-dead childhood
Who glared at the giants he always had dreams of
The first was a mist covered mountain, where all beasts were blind
With whispers of meaningless legends and theories
The second was a fiery mountain singing in passion
With trees and bushes with golden leaves, but no fruit
Both these mountains trapped the souls of the damned under the dirt
Both buried the light in the damp cyclical tomb
The souls were angels who defended their land from the night
Horsemen who guarded against the Prince of Darkness
The inner soul of light within the old man awakened
The youthful hoopoe bird within chirped for freedom
He began his work, to dig into the mountains themselves
He started to craft a path for all to travel
A wiser old man came up and saw the sweat raining down
And chuckled at the absurdity raining down
“Oh friend, you cannot remove one grey hair from the giants
How in heaven’s name can you crumble these mountains”
The foolish grey-haired man, singing and young in his caged heart
Said these words, roaring with his liberated mind
“My children shall tear the mountains by their blood-covered hand
My grandchildren shall destroy them with their chisels
My offspring will fight as unsleeping armies in the night
My offspring will never surrender their grand fight
The birds of the blue sky will peck the mountains piece by piece
The worms of earth will eat the fortress bit by bit”
These words reached the wise man’s inner heart beating with wonder
These words reached the sun and moon’s delicate bright souls
So the ships of light carried the message to the blue sky
The Infinite Father of Greatness and Lightness
The blue sky ripped apart the revolving grey clouds of might
The expanse of azure blue split all into two
Daylight shone in the highest firmament of dark violet
Daylight shone in the lowest crannies of Sheol
These two mountains vanished as if they were nothing at all
These two watchtowers crumbled in the gentle flames
Leaving no fortresses between the two flowing rivers
Leaving only an untouched garden, eons old
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The squirrels gathered 'neath November’s gold glow,
with tails curled proud sitting in a row.
They piled acorns high—no plate left bare,
a feast in the oaks, with none to spare.
The eldest stood, whiskers twitching sage,
(His napkin a leaf from a bygone age):
"To the humans," he chirped, "though flawed, they try~
their cornucopias tempt us… but we prefer pecan pie."
A chorus of chitters! A toast with dew,
as they cracked hickory nuts and passed the acorn stew.
No turkey for them—just stolen seeds,
and gratitude for the backyard greed.
For what is Thanksgiving, but harvest delights
and fences scaled on frostbit nights?
They dined, they danced, till the moon hung low…
then raided some trash cans. As squirrels often do.
I was raped by the innocence in your eyes
My heart poisoned by your pretty words
My friends abhorred my addiction
Calling it something of an affliction
But I loved you
I love you
The whispering birds filled the tree outside our window
They chirped from sun up to sundown
Nipping at the fruits of our passion
There was a wicked truth to those words
But I loved you
I love you
No matter how sinister things looked at sundown
The sun always rose with you in my arms
Oh, by the gods, how you would look in my eyes
And tell me I was the only one for you
And I loved you
I love you
And then one day you just disappeared
My deepest fears were finally realized
The birds had flown the coup
And I was left alone with one looping thought
I loved you
I love you