Long Contest anything Poems

Long Contest anything Poems. Below are the most popular long Contest anything by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Contest anything poems by poem length and keyword.


One December Night (The End)

One December Night
     (Continuation to the End)
    
All that year Santa had hoped and had tried to find a child's love that would strongly abide.  
But month after month he was given the boot.  It didn't matter whether he showed magic or 
gave them some loot.  Many children were selfish.  Not one gave a hoot.  
     Until one cold blizzard night, in a stormy plight, the frog rang the doorbell and walked 
right on in.  In the warmth of the house, after ousting the mouse, four children accepted the 
frog for his good.  It was a happy sight for the frog there that night.  Yes, they showed him 
great kindness and genuine love, the 
spirit of Christmas shown down from above.  The purest of love without expectations turned 
the frog into Santa who promptly gave each one hugs.  “I'll be back with my sleigh to leave 
gifts on Christmas night.  Thank you dear children for your gifts of love tonight.  Leave me 
some cookies.  I shall eat no more bugs!  He laughed as he juggled three gifts in the air.  
Then, soon disappeared out of sight by the moonlight.  
     The children, still laughing and squealing with joy, had broken a spell put on Santa 
last spring.  And the mean old witch that had made him a frog, sat sadly outside all alone on 
the log.  She had made him a frog with a croak, out of tune.  She wanted his voice instead of 
her own.  Christmas carols she had heard bring so much joy.  She could not carry a tune for 
one single song.  She had hoped she could sing if she stole Santa's voice. But the love from 
the children left her no choice.  The spell had been broken by love's sweetest choice. 
But while they were happily playing about, they noticed the wand from the brown bag lay 
out.  So they went to the witch and gave her a voice.  And taught her that goodness over bad 
is a choice.  So together they played with the now happy witch.  Who gave up her evil and to 
goodness did switch.  The gift of pure love and light in the world is a gift to all who give 
heaven a whirl.  For even the wickedest of wicked have some goodness in them.  So, 
encourage the right and to evil say, “Take a flight!”   (And let God be the judge…)

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009

Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes! 	
Sponsored by: Constance La France  (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)
Form: Narrative


One December Night (Continuation 2)

One December Night 

     Mama, at the oven, was taking cookies out.  When she turned around quickly to see what 
the shouts were about, the cookies started sliding.  And almost hit the floor.  But the frog 
took his wand from his sack by the door and started to say magic words galore.  
“Alacafrogsky majikazam, make those cookies go back into the pan.”  To everyone's 
surprise, those gingerbread men stopped in thin air, reversed, took a spin.  Then headed 
right back to the pan again.  Wide eyed, that is when the family realized that the frog at their 
table was not like other frogs.  
    And while doing magic, the frog said to the mouse, “You better start running, and I mean 
fast right out of this house.”  And as Dad, with his broom, was about to lower the boom, the 
mouse left the house wearing a great big brown mouse frown.  Then, Dad with a smile and 
real puzzled look put the broom down and the frog's hand he shook.
    At half past mid-night on that cold winter night the frog and his magic brought one family 
delight.  So, he stayed and ate cookies along with the girls.  And he took from his bag, lots of 
toys and some pearls.  He gave each one gifts.  Then, closed up his brown sack.  But as
he headed for the door, together they said, “Wait!  Come back! We have a gift for your 
sack!  
     He turned around fast with a twinkle in his eye.  Then, the children ran to him with hugs 
and with sighs.  They gave him big kisses.  He smiled deep inside as they put one big gift 
marked for Santa in his bag.  
     All of a sudden with no warning at all, a bright cloud of sparkles surrounded the frog.  
Magically, right in front of them all, they discovered that the frog was not a frog at all! In just 
a
few moments, when all of the sparkles were gone, there stood Santa Claus.  Had something 
gone wrong?  His face was delighted.  He had a big smile.  All of the elves hiding began to 
come out.  Those tiny little people sang loudly, and danced. “Santa is back.  They have 
broken the spell.  Be sure to go everywhere and tell, tell, tell!"

        (To be continued...)

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009

Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes! 	
Sponsored by: Constance La France  (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)
Form: Narrative

One December Night

One December Night

     Susan, Joy, Marsha, and Pam crawled out of their beds to eat bacon and ham.
Their parents were sleeping.  They snored while the slept.  The children tiptoed to the very 
top step.  The staircase was chilly.  And it creaked while they crept.  Downward they were 
slinking, step by step.  
     Their puppy was resting on the fireplace hearth.  They sat down beside him for what it 
was worth.  They sat on the floor.  They did not use a chair.  And while they were sitting, 
Marsha hugged her pink bear.  They made funny faces and started to laugh.  They giggled 
and squiggled and chuckled so fast that all of the elves in earshot were aghast.   
     Then all of a sudden, they heard something loud.  It wasn't a trumpet, a flute or 
bassoon.  “I know what it is!  …A kazoo!!” shouted Sue.  
     They looked all around to locate the sound.  But, look as they might, it could not be 
found.  They looked in the kitchen and under the couch.  Pam bumped her red head and 
loudly said, “Ouch!”  Who played that kazoo?  They all wanted to know.  So, they scampered 
around by the fireplace glow.
     The dog started barking.  And bark loudly he did.  That's when it happened.  Beneath the 
windowsill Sue slid.  A great big toad outside, on that hill, in the cold wet snow, stood up 
suddenly.  Then, quickly down he did go.  Frightened, freezing, and carrying a load.  He slid 
off of the log and went a-rolling downhill in the snow.
    The children began jumping and squealing with delight.  Oh, what a sight to see at mid-
night.  The old toad was sliding with stocking feet in the air.  Behind him, downhill, slid his 
sack with a flare.  About all that sliding he did not seem to care.  Out there on the lawn in 
rare southern snow, up and down Roller Coaster hill he did go!  Faster and faster, he was 
sliding with time.  His suit became wet and covered with grime.  Where was he going?  Who 
would they tell?  At about that time, they heard the doorbell.   
                   (To be continued...)

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009

Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes! 	
Sponsored by: Constance La France  (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Silhouettes On the Shore

Trembles serenaded my heart
  before the coming storm
affection was blowing toward me
  with unburdened arms
in an unruffled evening with a fiery red sky
and continuous waves that drowned the shore

I embraced the silent space
  in a moment caressed
satiny rhythmic sounds, music from the sea
added to the fluidity of her movements
  in her summer dress of yellow
caught by the sea breeze to dance with each step
allowing a vision of perfection to be cast upon my soul
  like a fisherman's woven net

She paused...

So my eyes could regale on her alone
and melt away with the fabric of time
where lovers dwell with measured caresses
and soft feathered fingers skimming across the skin 
while the clock hand turned with each kiss
drifting slowly into a vanishing night
  of star-light and moon glows
splayed upon the tender mouths of lovers
  until a veil dropped
as we became silhouettes on the shore
revealing smoldering fires within
exposing our hearts with all their ashes
leaving flickering fervor where lovers lay
exploring dreams in a sanctuary of solitude
before being washed away...
  by the dawn's incoming tide

7/31/22 Contest Anything Goes
judged 8/2/22

contest Writing Challenge-X'd poems second chance
sponsor Constance La France

Tree House

TREE      HOUSE


My
Idea
A simple
Tree house
Kids wanted it so
I  built it,  hand-made
Stone-base to avoid wet-rot
Lower level a stage for kids’ shows
Uprights were his football  goal-posts
Imagined as the gun-deck of a pirate ship 
Upper level  the  main deck for crew of pirates
Or  an  airy sleeping-house for nights camping out
Final top level for look-out  over the sea, two miles away
Always adding new features:  ladder up, rope fence, trapdoor
With  hand-saw and hammer, no power tools. Becoming complicated
Always unfinished, summerwork only,  too busy at the office  to finish it
It became too  elaborate, too  complex:  tree house to end all tree houses
In five years the tree grew  bigger: original planks and branches out of alignment
Growing kids’ interests and needs fell out of alignment, waiting too long for the house
Kids were small when I started the house. When we finished it, it was too late for them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

NOTE

Based on an actual tree-house  I built for my   three kids in the back garden of the house.

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Written by Sydney Peck for nette onclaud's  Contest  "ANYTHING HANDMADE"
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Held By a Thread

   Silence for me is like a beautiful flower blooming,
        and it is not found by turning off life;
      but a hunger deep within me,
               to find the balance of Yin and Yang;

               Serenity is something I really work on,
      it is a long soulful journey;
        a spiritual connection to bliss and peace,
  and in the mist of my mind a bridge is beckoning; 

  I think of this as a journey to find enlightenment,
        that takes me where my thoughts lead; 
      and worldly noise I push away,
             with courage I float in my mind;

             I am a bird singing in the forest,
        I am a cloud floating in an azure sky;
            I am the morn' dew that kisses,
  I am a flower with petals opening in the sunshine;
 
  I drift on a smooth green pond embracing my silence, 
        and I am held to life by a thread;
      that I can follow back to reality,
              and with a sigh-   I am home.

_______________________
July 30, 2021


Poetry/Verse/Held By A Thread
Copyright Protected, ID 07-1376-637-30
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France 

Written for the Premier contest, Anything You Want
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judged 08/01/2021

Third Place
Form: Verse

Premium Member God Took Me Home

~~+~~

Cold was the night as the snow fell,
drifting on the street and on the paths;
where I wandered and struggled to walk,
weary and homeless, sleepwalking.
Oh, I was a lost runaway from home,
cold was the night and cold was my fear;
No place to go and I had left love behind,
I had no shelter from the cold.
People walked by fast not even seeing me,
help me, feeble and weary I called out;
help me, help me, I am cold and hungry,
and slowly I struggled on and on.
When I could not walk anymore I sat down,
and from the gathering snow I whispered;
but the loud wind sent my words drifting,
so, I just waited in the snow to die.
Then, I saw a building and crawled to the doors,
it was lit by candles and Christmas decorations;
and I lay down in front of a statue of Jesus,
I was found by a priest, gone.

"God took me home."

____________________________
November 2, 2019


Poetry/Narrative/God Took Me Home
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1193-270-19
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the Premiere contest, Anything You Want
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke

Second Place
Form: Narrative

Premium Member My Distant Horizon Glowing

 
The day will come one day when my soul departs, 
        one day I will be old and frail;
                 my beauty will be withered pale,
                          perhaps I will be reading braille !

My days will be a mix of real and imaginary parts,
         I will recall my childhood joy;
                 my favorite pretty doll toy,
                          and my crush on a cute schoolboy !

The day will come one day when my soul departs,
         one day I will not hold a pen;
                  and I will never write again,
                          but I will always have my Zen !

My days will be a mix of real and imaginary parts,
        I wish my end is like floating;
                on a boat in the sea drifting,
                        with my distant horizon glowing !

_______________________
April 18, 2022


Poetry/Rhyme/My Distant Horizon Glowing
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1449-598-18
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France

Written for the Premier contest, Anything You Want
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judged 04/23/2022

Second Place
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Melody of Memory

The wheel of time churns the disowned dust,
settling on the desolate shore of deranged life,
in the tidal moments of dispersed perturbation
truth oscillates beyond clutch in chasm of chaos. 

Within the destined flux of dismantling disorder
everything succumbs to change except change,
where the alchemy of accosted metamorphosis
creates the fantasy façade of transformation.

In the devastating squall of divesting depression
my mind lies disheveled in the dishabille state,
strips off the fragile layers of frail emotions,
carried away by confounded cascade of essence.

Yet, when my sand castle in the yearning shore 
tumbles down in a clutter of scattered debris,
I discover the hidden flute of feelings, and play
the ecstasy tune with the melody of your memory.

________________

Not Placed In Contest : Anything Goes
Date Judged : February 8, 2022
December 4, 2022
Contest : Writing Challenge - X'd Poems Second Chance
Sponsored by : Constance La France

Premium Member A Prom Date

.
                                                   Dateless
                                          One day, then date_
                                    Twenty-four hours deadline
                             One formal needed, purchase cloth
                                                    Sewing


Contest:"Anything Handmade"
Sponsor:Nette Onclaud
Written by:Sara Kendrick

(When our oldest daughter was 
in high school, she did not have a 
date to the prom or military ball
so I did not make plans to get a 
dress..She came in the day before 
the event after school and said that
she had a date..That gave me twenty
four hours to come up with a dress..
I had only $20 left until next paycheck
and no credit card..I went to the 
fabric store and got fabric and pattern.

The dress had 12 gores and it was floor 
length..I stayed up until 2 am sewing up
a dress for her to wear the next eve..)
Form: Cinquain

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