Long Chuckle Poems
Long Chuckle Poems. Below are the most popular long Chuckle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chuckle poems by poem length and keyword.
Snowflakes fell, large and wet,
On that early morning in December
Our country home was soon enfolded
In winter's cold, white mantle
The noonday sun parted the somber clouds
With rays smiling and bright
It seemed to be saying...
"That's enough snow...for now"
Mother walked along the silent path
To where the mail was waiting
She paused for a moment and smiled
The untouched landscape, glittering white before her
Awoke the child within her heart
She began to play
Soon the beginnings of a snowman
Rested at her feet
My father watched the scene unfold
Through the bedroom window
His eyes glittered as brightly as the snow
A smile creased his face
And a chuckle escaped his lips
This picture is etched forever
In the corners of my heart
Forever I will see her there playing in the snow
Forever I will see him broadly smiling at her delight
Forever I will see them both so completely full of joy
So full of life
So full of love.
Outside the storm is raging, heaping piles of drifting snow.
Inside I'm snuggled in my easy chair, the fireplace all aglow!
I've retrieved an old tome of poetry from my library shelf,
To spend an afternoon with noted bards to entertain myself.
I'll never tire of the lovely lyrics leaping from its pages,
Composed by inspirational poets down through the ages.
Those gifted folks awaken latent emotions in my languid soul,
Creating soul-stirring verse about life that they so fluently extol!
I delight in the lines championing ordinary folks by Edgar Guest,
And the ballads of Robert Service on his daring Yukon quest!
The works of The Hoosier Poet J. Whitcomb Riley I hold dear.
It's as if he wrote about my Hoosier boyhood of yesteryear!
The fire casts gloomy shadows about as I read Poe's elegies,
But my mood brightens reading Kilmer's beautiful poem, "Trees!"
McCrae's, "In Flanders Fields", as a lad I learned by rote.
I chuckle at the whimsical poetry that Lewis Carroll wrote!
I treasure my time with the bards and their poems in the book.
It occupies a very special place in my library nook.
Well, I'll put it aside since the cat has hopped upon my lap.
Dear old Simba and I will settle in for a cozy winter's nap!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Breathe: inhale the sky, the song, the peace
Feel the rush of light, the sensations of grace
Breathe: exhale the smile, the chuckle, the laugh
Touch the brilliance echoing hope through the heart
Breathe: in and out, sucking in the inspiration
Radiating joy, awakening the spirit’s dance, burning
With flames of passion, praising, praying
Illuminating the faith, the amazing belief in a moment
When there is only the breathless spray of the sea
Silencing every dark shadow with a gasp of color
Breathe: panting like the sweaty moments
Just before the rain, thunder roaring, booming
Rumbling through the thoughts, resonating
Every heart’s beat, each pounding whisper
From the beginning to the ending – victorious
Like the rainbow that comes to life after the storm
Breathe: whispering, sighing, soothing away
Every horror, each undertone of suffering, mouthed
By words of dread, doubt, disillusionment
Uttered by the news of enemies, adversaries
Those who bring gloom, melancholy, depression
Feelings that linger in the air like a heavy perfume
Breathe: sing with each precious lungful of air
Let the music of winds, stardust moments, hushed
Fragrances that blend the light with the night
Flavoring the moments in peace, serenity gentling
Each illusion, each mystery, all the confusion
That comes to those who refuse to …
Even B R E A T H E
~
With a moonbeam in her smile,
she illumined every flower,
while she wandered down the path,
neath an ever-changing sky
With a chuckle and a grin,
peeked behind the twisted maple,
where the dragonflies would hide,
if a stranger passes by
On this quiet summer eve,
as the crickets started chirping,
with a pinecone as a necklace,
she was dressed up for the show
As she took her favorite seat,
near a toadstool who was sleeping
and a tree frog she called Larry,
on her shoelace down below
When she heard the singer sing,
as the evergreens were swaying,
in a soft melodic fashion,
while the cello played in time
There were songbirds in the trees,
where they added happy whistles
near some squirrels who would listen,
just to see if it did rhyme
When along a spider came,
(no, it's not some different story)
with a top hat on his head,
said he'd really like to dance
They all watched as he performed,
with his eight legs quickly moving,
then applauded when he stopped,
this might be his only chance
Next, a butterfly ballet,
so demure, their wings a' flutter,
in a silken pirouette,
so enchanting was the sight
They received a roaring cheer,
loud as thunder in the heavens,
as they took a tiny bow,
then they ran off to the right
Where beyond the forest edge,
came the morning sun arising,
purple, pink and tangerine,
were the colors she did spy
So, she rubbed her weary eyes,
gave a little hug to Larry,
made her way back down the path,
as she waved to all good bye
~
I've been to dark places
way off in the weeds
where many a devil
does devilish deeds
I spent so much time there
familiar it grew
in search of its secrets
known only by few
And what I discovered
and what it revealed
had come with the price
of my soul to yield
And thusly surrendered
the darkness received
while leaving me empty
and lonely and grieved
It vied for attention
since I was a child
by implanting thoughts
that were utterly wild
Such thoughts that no children
should ever have known
lest forces unseen
had purposely sown
The darkness grows darker
the deeper you go
and far more alluring
it's wonders to show
Any issues encountered
are handled within
by the blackest of means
with a chuckle and grin
I've been to dark places
I know where they are
Just off the main highway
and not very far
The people encountered
within that domain
whose twilight existence
is deathly profane
They beat on the living
but they can't beat the dead
who no longer suffer
for their daily bread
For the dead have no trouble
they create no more spark
and they certainly aren't
afraid of the dark
© Mike Wise
3-19-26
6 years ago, I wrote limericks about 5 PS poets. Today, I've posted
about another 5 and will continue to add more... before 6 years.
I tickled funny bones of five Souper men
So, I gave thought to trying it once again
In the order they replied
My sarcasm was applied
As I gently heckled them with ink and pen
First, Tom Cunningham, who "liked my collection"
To femme limericks he had no objection
But now it's his turn
Tom, forgive the burn
I heard you're headed for a house of correction
Jerry T Curtis said to "keep them coming"
But I think that lately he's been slumming
He's all aflutter
And starts to stutter
When his lady friend starts his heart strumming
Then there is the poet of romance, Tim Smith
His sweet words of seduction are not a myth
I know it to be truth
Don't ask me. It's uncouth
I don't kiss and tell so I'm pleading the fifth
John Gondolf said my limericks made him "chuckle"
His comments are always filled with honeysuckle
But if he wants a date
I'll have to castigate
I have a black belt in the use of my knuckles
"I needed smiles and giggles," said Greg Barden
His poems are flowers blooming in a garden
But some words are couture
Fertilized with manure
Now I guess I'll have to beg for Greg's pardon
The new additions...
Like a brother he comes to my defense
This man wears no guise and has no pretense
Mark Koplin, misunderstood
A modern-day Robin Hood
To me he shines with rays of effulgence
There's a man who took me under his wing
Says what he thinks. Doesn't hold back a thing
Danny Turner, my friend
A helping hand he'll lend
For offering kind words, he's a wellspring
David Kavanagh, true friend from the start
Encouraging advice, he does impart
Throws Monoku lines like spears
I raise a glass to him ~ cheers!
Loyal, his word. A man with a good heart
Canadian, Vaso, we don't see oft
Art doesn't come across as being soft
But has a tender heart
For countries torn apart
His poetic words should never be scoffed
His funny thoughts overflow in a Flood
Terry writes humor that's never a dud
Risque, and sometimes not
His stories have a plot
Rumor has it that he's known as 'The Stud'
Gentlemen, I ask forgiveness for this spoof
My humorous parodies should be the proof
That I like all of you
And don't mind if ya do
Get even in your own limericks of reproof
Jump, thump, six graders jump
from stone to pebbly stone.
Chirp chirp the robin flies
Across the sky alone.
Crunch chunch the graveled feet,
Sh. . . shoo, a breathy whisper,
Hard, cold bench for a seat,
Rough wood, perhaps a splinter.
Puh, puh, puh, a boy spitting,
Mosquito slap
A girl is hitting.
Scarlet leaves on willowly stem
Dance in the crisp fall air.
I hear a chuckle.
Is it he
Playing over there?
The last bright orange, Autumn mums
Await their yearly demise.
A glance at my watch.
Oh, no, it’s time,
I’m thinking as I rise.
Fall day, sublime
God’s perfection.
What a task to study!
Until next time,
We’ll have to leave
Renewed, refreshed, unhurried.
~ Judy Bausch
Why can't I be the real me
Instead of putting on airs to impress
If I really didn't care what people thought
I could go to the mall in a dress
Right away I'd be labeled as kinda unusual
To say the least I'd be mocked
Teenagers would all point and chuckle at me
Oldsters would be totally shocked
Imagine as well if I dyed my hair green
With lipstick a dark shade of pink
Not saying I'd ever resort to such nonsense
But it sure would make people blink
To shock everyone with bizarre behaviour
To act like you've gone a bit looney
Imagine the reaction of these real snotty folks
Might think they're filming a movie
There are certainly limits for our behaviour
We can't go naked in the streets
Coz at times when a shapely woman walks by
Well... this last line I had to delete!
When I didn't qualify for the football team, my Mom said to me in front of all the players,
"Flushing HS has just lost a quarterback, but our family has gained a daughter."
Good Times
Once my Dad returned home from a night on the town so drunk he could barely blink.
"Is there anything on earth," my mother asked him, "that you will not drink?"
"Yes there is," he replied with his breath stinking of brew,
"It's called poison my dear, but I'm saving it for you."
Good Times
In the middle of class I was approached by a bully.
He said, "I like your pants. Give them to me."
I always chuckle at that memory very fondly,
walking home in my gym shorts with temperatures in the 30's.
Ah, Good Times
"Does your dog bite?" I asked the sweet old man.
He answered "No" but when I pet the dog it bit my hand.
"You told me that your dog doesn't bite," I said wrapping my bloody wound with cloth.
We both laughed when he replied, "This isn't my dog."
Ah yes, Good Times.
D'ya know any people who are always right
Are they annoying creatures or what
Wonder who made them a walking thesaurus
They sure make my blood run hot
Love to poke holes in what they're saying
Proving that they ain't infallible
Jump at any chance to prove these guys wrong
To be right every time is impossible
Engaging these people in normal conversation
Is frustrating and hard on the psyche
You wanna shout and yell naughty words
And physically harm them, by crikey
Best thing to do is just try to remain calm
Dispute everything they're saying
Drives them batty and they blow their stack
As around the issue you go skating
A naughty and devious man I am
Get a chuckle out of seeing 'em rage
Sure serves 'em right for being so arrogant
Must be the attention they crave