Long Cozy Poems
Long Cozy Poems. Below are the most popular long Cozy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cozy poems by poem length and keyword.
dinner out ...
a cozy booth at our favorite Japanese steak house
we had finished all but our apertifs
I took her hand, held it palm-up
tracing soft circles there with my index finger
"read this" I said, pretending to write a sexy phrase in her hand in cursive
"I didn't get it," she replied. "do it again"
this time she got it, inhaling deeply and letting out a squeaky sigh
"how can you do that to me ... just by touching my hand?!?"
I looked at her, feigning a quizzical expression
"do WHAT to you??" I pretended, (cat-and-mouse)
she pulled back a bit, squinting, a 'you can't fool me' look on her face
taking my hand, she slowly moved it below the table
tenderly placing it where no one could see
where it was ... very warm
very warm and ...
I gazed at her and smiled
she smiled back coyly, eyes twinkling intensely
"check please!" we cried in unison
giggling our way to the door.
She sat unnoticed in the corner,
Strumming her guitar with quiet fervor.
Her name was called, and like a spark,
She ran toward us, youthful and stark.
Her hair, untamed, yet free with flair,
A boyish shirt and casual air.
Slimmed face, petite, with Asian eyes,
A modest flower beneath open skies.
Like a seed, her presence grew with time,
February passed, an ordinary climb.
She stood among us, shared her part,
Stories flowing, heart to heart.
I came to know her as my sister small,
And I, her brother, guiding through it all.
I was the director; she played her role,
But now I’m the bee, and she’s my soul.
At first, I sought another bloom,
But her uniqueness brightened the room.
I confessed, though her petals cried,
A fragile beauty she could not hide.
Love, like a plant, grew strong within,
By August, the waiting would begin.
She sat with me in a cozy café,
Sipped her drink, her shyness in display.
Why her, of all the flowers near?
Her charm so simple, her essence clear.
She loves purple, a playful hue,
And in her simplicity, I found my truth.
This poem is but an introduction,
A love story born of pure affection.
Each passing day, my heart proclaims,
Her beauty, her spirit, etched in my veins.
A name engraved, a melody to enjoy,
Three letters long—my heart’s Joy.
Purple and simple, yet endlessly rare,
Forever my love, beyond compare.
A bad marriage is a gift from God
Comes with a text message of love
No letters or instructions required
At this time all lines are occupied
Please call again later
The One who sends signals from above
With best wishes for the test to come
Wants only warm and cozy things for you
Even fuzzy will do
Looks for nothing in return
Unconditional codes laid at the alter last
Romanticism comes with a definition
In a breath of fresh air from heaven
Unobtainable, no money back guarantee
Please remember to lower the toilet seat
The quest for happiness is in constant flux
A gentle kiss just out of reach
Pink and blue doves chirp
Having nothing better to do
At a distance they listen to
What the hell is wrong with you?!
Let's go on an adventure one that's full of life
Let's run away from our problems, all the sadness and the strife
I'll meet you at the edge of town with nothing but my wonder
We'll venture through the open field; dance in the rain and scream with the thunder
We'll brave the intoxicating forest, so full of the unknown
The tone is that of peace and solitude yet, we don't feel alone
Next, we'll make our way to the sandy beach shore
We'll laugh and play in the waves as if we've never had a care before
We'll come across a quirky little town that's waiting to be explored
We'll listen to tales from the old shopkeeper, who is cherished and adored
Our spectacular day is coming to an end but we're filled with bliss
This day is unforgettable and we'll look back fondly when we reminisce
But wait, there's still one more place that we must go
Let's retire to our cozy home and dream a beautiful tomorrow
Paraphrasing Non-Literal try
(148: Tagore/Geetanjali/verses)
With one humble nudge, o dear reverie
One humble nudge
Every grain of soul, submissive in all,
may bless you in thee, tranquil serenity.
Dense downpouring clouds, thick with a may, rainy day
Humbled with a gentle gesture that long induced, understood
With one humble nudge, o dear reverie
One humble nudge
Mind in entirety may place thy soul
to hold thy name, embraced.
Diversified yearning underneath, floating a melody, brimming
Quench the soul in sublimation, to humble beyond a delight
With One humble nudge, o dear reverie
One humble nudge
The flight of a song may reach the destined
A silent nuance of cozy warmth blessed is she!
A mindful caravan of pilgrims, a swan as she
then the days run through the dawn to dusk, entirety
With one humble nudge, o dear reverie
One humble nudge
My life may serve in flight, delight
Surpassing the grandiose death, beyond, instead.
Acknowledgement
Home
Verses
Geetanjali
148
8-28-2024
In my dream-
there is a broken mirror
it is so gorgeous and wood-framed
but is shattered.
It stands in an ancient room and is beyond repair.
The mirror a reminder
of beauty
that is fading, or perhaps a death.
Oh, it could be grief, decay and withering away.
I have plenty of that within my soul,
or it could be accepting aging
represented by that ancient room,
as nothing is forever in this life.
Oh, I am afraid of this dream as it is full of unknown,
let me fly back now to my cozy bed
a girl sleeping . . .
________________________
December 1, 2016
Poetry/Verse/The Broken Mirror
Copyright Protected, ID 16-854-479-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the Contest 244,
sponsor, Brian Strand
Fourth Place
Goodnight Moon
a children's book by Margaret Wise Brown
the subject of my poem and my latest stamp purchase
was also a book that I read to my son
when he was little
not thirty-three, like he is now
forgive my forgetting the details
the book is no longer on my shelf
but in the story
it's bedtime for a little rabbit
who says goodnight
to everything in his small, cozy universe
of yellow, red, green, blue and white
including the moon
which he sees out his window
we all like to create
a benign, safe, friendly world
for our young ones
to grow up in
before they must encounter
a struggle to survive
prejudice, hatred, ill health, violence
lying, cheating, and the rest
I like to think that the better we can do
to create this world
for our babies and our youth
the better the real world will turn out
yet, I suppose, our children
must also learn how to be
smart, strong, and resilient
but today
on the week my son gets married
I like to imagine
that safe, kind world
of
Goodnight Moon
In the City of Pines, vendors are everywhere. High and low prices are everywhere. The once cool region of overflowing love somehow narrowed its space for the younger generation because of commercialization.
Commercialization, on one hand, helps. On the other hand, synchronization is tantamount to compression, which can be a sign of evaporation.
Nevertheless, many people visit the City of Pines, a wonderful site in the East. Foreigners from everywhere troop to the place to witness and feel the beauty of the living pine trees around the city of Baguio -- "bag-iw" in Ibaloi, indigenous language of the region.
I had my chance of visiting the City of Pines, the home of the famous Rice Terraces. I trekked the rough roads and cliffs of the mountains. So cozy and so relieving. The scent of innocence above the mountains and serenity in waters below the mountains. An ethereal scenery with the breeze of resonating heritage.
The City of Pines is rich in culture and tradition. No one would ever wonder that an indigenous tribe can still exist up to the present time.
The musical instruments being played by the people, the indigenous materials sewn and worn by the people are the pride of the said city.
Many beautiful things and memories can be said about the City of Pines. Like the pines of my birth, very close to my heart.
Sound sleep, cozy bed, slow stretch, feeling great
Perfect weather, gentle breeze, soft sunlight
Table laid, with tasty food on my plate
The morning so far, infusing delight
At the traffic light, knock on my window
A passerby gestured to my car wheel
I got down seeing, much to my sorrow
Flat tyre, dampening my joyful feel
Fifteen minutes later, with a stiff back
Spare wheel in place but my briefcase stolen
A hapless victim of a theft attack
As reflex response, my heart spewed poison
11-February-2021
(syllabic rhyme)
Written for: it was a good morning until ... poetry contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Dangerously cold Canadian front insane
sweeps down upon the Great Plains
Record temperatures of thirty below
honestly folks it's too damn cold
Icy roads so very slick
driving slow is the trick
Drip the facets so pipes don't break
stock up on groceries before it's too late
Wear layers and cover skin
protect yourself from icy hard winds
Snow piles in six foot drifts
hoping that the weather shifts
Hunker down stay inside
pets indoors to keep them alive
Frostbite a real threat
as those temperatures continue to dip
Drink hot chocolate sip by sip
cozy under blanket pile to avoid chilly nip
Global warming feels like a tease
as we shudder in the deep freeze