Long Croft Poems

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


Wake To Frequent Reality I Lack Pride and Joy

Alternately titled inferiority
complex since little boy
oft times ponder what
afterlife like beyond far horizon ahoy...

No matter scarce giddiness wave
did carry and buoy yours truly aloft
analogous to dwell amidst
hermetically sealed croft,
imagining small rented farm,

especially one in Scotland
comprising plot of arable land
attached to house,
where hat o' this gentleman doffed,

Thence beckoning thee
to get comfortably numb
nurse cocktail I doctor, ah yea
with good n plenti of rum
lamenting mein kampf

worth ordinarily absolute zero
on par with being
a harmless no good bum
reflecting scores of lapsed years
since bing hard school of knocks alum

lionizing American south antebellum,
Pace of existence found one
idyllic I exclaim
casually sauntering along,
quite welcoming if one lame
especially inviting nineteenth

century hamlet fictitious place name
crafted within A Stop At Willoughby
(think or Google twilight zone
Season 1 Episode 30), where
main character shed his shame,

I too could easily capitulate
if/when time travel will encapsulate
one to journey where simply
livingsocial appeared exotic and great,
versus twenty first century Schwenksville
specifically Highland Manor

each and every resident doth insulate
her/himself within four walls
affixed with memories,
a long gone mate
similar to mine nonagenarian papa,
whose spouse Harriet,

a prior poem
I did poetically narrate,
which rancor hardened filial me obdurate
considerably decreased, yet revisit loss,
now jars thee noggin o' this primate

smoldering resentment - a human trait
did poison when mother at death's door
objection to accursed 
disease did undulate
within her cancerous kindled,
riddled, wasted body joie de vivre

loathsome beast could 
never invalid date
grim reaper would not wait,
her passing fourteen 
and half orbitz ago

Withheld a hug I never gave
presently wince with sorrow,
yours truly never forgave
himself eternal repentance within mine
soul asylum as unseen knife doth engrave
mine mean deprivation
bajillion miles separated us
unconditional love all she did crave.


Premium Member Flowers In Art

A tulip in a vase 
                       on a rigid stand
       does it really hold a thousand words?
                   or a thousand strokes
                     as the artist paints             
                  it upon a fresh canvas?

          What is going through their mind
                     with each stroke,
                    each dab of paint,
              each mark it leaves behind
              what memory does it hold-
              whose life does it embellish
                 or is it just a painting
               thought of by the artist 
        to spark the interest of the onlooker?




Karen Croft 
October 5, 2021

Premium Member I Enemy

A striking figure pierced the fog
That lay upon the ground that day
The battle raged on all night long
But neither side was brought to bay

The soldier walked, as in a trance
I saw the color of his cloth
An enemy, has now advanced
And made his way a crossed the croft

I looked down at my rifle then
Sought to load another round
But found, I loosened up my grip
And watched it fall unto the ground

I look back to the man to see
As I stood there, unarmed that day
And wondered, "What's come over me"
And in my heart began to pray

Willing to slay, not one more soul
My life now placed in jeopardy 
Mindful of who placed it there
Besieged by such self-treachery 

I left my trench, and walked toward him
To reap the fate,  for what I've sewn 
And somewhere in my thoughts of thoughts
I felt as if,  I 'as going home

But then His gun slipped from his hand
And standing there for all to see
I looked into his eyes to find
That I, had been,  thee enemy
war
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Remembrance

So often up the hill we trod this path,
A simple thatch-roofed croft our goal,
Our shared safe haven, now so long ago.
Little we cared about the wintry blasts
That tested every sinew to the core.
Steadfast, our own four walls withstood
The ofttimes howling stormforce all around.
This was our forever place, our mutual pleasure,
On which again I gaze, now bent with age.
Our carefree youthful footsteps I've retraced.
Can the mind's eye so soon diffuse
And fade a face so well defined and loved ?
Perhaps, in sleep, a soft-edged memory appears,
A resurrection in some distant place,
Then gone again in morning light.
Twin-barbed, remembrance is both sweet and sour,
Joy and sadness intertwined, as were we.
Sad for things that are no more, our perfect harmony,
Kind thoughts exchanged, yet joyful still
In equal measure.The passing years will not diminish
Or erase the loving heartfelt words you penned
For me in sweetest rhyme. Held ever close
Within my heart, they are forever you,
A dear and lasting treasure, as our love lives on.
© Peter Rees  Create an image from this poem.

A Christmas of Hope and Peace

"Christmas is not just a season, but a state of mind. To cherish 
peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy is to have the real 
spirit of Christmas."
                                                         - Calvin Coolidge
*    *                *                *
   *            **            *               *          *
          *              *            *                  *          *
Christmas season is the time for singing holiday songs
and choirs praising Jesus, our Savior, in reverent hymns.
They honor the child who was born to right man's wrongs.
The glow of candlelight flickers as each flame slowly dims.
It's a world in which white quilts cover bare tree limbs.
         *          *             *                           *
  *                     *                *          *
With joy I welcome the sweet silence of new-falling snow.
In virginal purity, it tumbles, appearing so velvety soft.
Crystalline flakes frost the panes as I look out my window
and see somber gray clouds, hovering in the skies aloft
while children build a snowman across the village croft.
        *         *                 *                *                 *
  *                          *              *                   *
Mantles are carefully draped with boughs of holly and pine
as lights are strung and ornaments hung on Christmas trees.
A golden star on the tallest branch shines gloriously divine.
Gathering near the fireside, families are making memories.
The scene resembles a snow globe full of winter fantasies.
       *          *             *                  *              *
  *                       *                  *                  *    *
Christmas delivers a message of hope and peaceful repose,
first gifted to the entire world on the night of Jesus' birth.
In the spirit of the season, poets are motivated to compose,
verses that express the magical mood of joviality and mirth
where goodwill and brotherhood spreads across the earth.
              *                   *       *              *
  *                  *    *                   *                 *
Writing Challenge - Write A Christmas Poem 
11/30/22 ~ Contest sponsored by Constance La France
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Cuckoo Prank

Tradition held sway and little Jesus emerged from the cellar

It had been cold and dusty next to coal and a pile of potatoes

There was no water all year and wine bottles were corked up

For the joy of Christmas celebrations and the feast of the Saviour

He had not seen the light of the day for so long and he longed

For centre stage once again like an angel in lonely retirement

‘Yes’ he shouted ‘this is my nest’ as he emerged with the manger


Tinsel hung on the tree and the ornaments adorned his rebirth

‘Don’t know how Santa Claus avoids the flames but this is my show’

Out of the sheltering wrapper he came and looked at the scene

Three kings gifted the fragrance of perfume and mulled beverage

Children’s eyes glowed liked great balls of fire in anticipation

Of peace love kindness and compassion to emerge with all kin

Even the family cat would not be scolded if she ascended the twigs


The little result of virgin conception could not quite understand

Why he had been confined in his under-croft vault for so long

Was he not the glorious bearer of good tidings not just for a day

Maybe they might feed him a few gingerbread biscuits or a cuppa

And he would make a speech about halting feuds and conflicts

As well as not to feather one’s nest with neighbour’s belongings

But just as he was ready to jump into the cradle he noticed that


His place had been taken by Pinocchio with a broken off nose


30th November

Jealous Games

Jealous games

You walked in, 
with those high heels...
and everyone,
watched you as you walked

Your little black dress,
fit you 
oh so tight...
attention was what you got

You stared at me,
as the men came around...
you flirted... with one and all

Bridge 1
And all the guys, they fought,
hard just to get close... they fought to get close... 

Chorus
Jealous games...
the one game you're so good at playing
Jealous games...
you know exactly how to play it,
play it...play it... play it

We met some, 
forty years ago...
when we were both, oh so young

You told me you were,
looking for your one true love....
but, you left me feeling,
oh so numb...

You fell into...temptations trap...
and expected...
I would take you back

Brige 2
but, all I could see, 
was my rainbows... exploding...rainbows exploding...

as you played

Chorus
Jealous games...
the one game you're so good at playing...
Jealous games...
you know exactly how to play it,
play it... play it... play it

I remember our time spent,
at half moon bay...
collecting seashells out on the beach

Listening to,
the music of Seals and Croft...
not knowing,
true love was out of reach

I was convinced,
you were the one for me...
I guess you never... agreed..

Bridge 3
So I threw away,
my rose colored glasses... my rose colored glasses


Chorus
Jealous games...
the one game you're so good at playing...
Jealous games...
you know exactly how to play it,
play it... play it... play it

repeat chorus fade

John Derek Hamilton
October 16,2017
Form: Lyric

Summer Breeze

lyrics written as per contest rules to the melody of 'Summer breeze'
 by Seals and Croft 


Verse 1

Lying in a lush and verdant meadow
Nature’s sweet aromas start to set me free.
Honeybees are pollinating clover
Mellow sounds of summer sweeping over me.

Chorus

Summer breeze, cares left behind
Perfect place to let my thoughts unwind.
Summer breeze, breathes unconfined
Blows away the cobwebs in my mind.

Verse 2

Summer haze is shimmering before me
And above me cotton wool clouds drift by
Butterflies in iridescent  glory
Soaring skylarks serenade the azure sky.

Chorus

Summer breeze, cares left behind
Perfect place to let my thoughts unwind.
Summer breeze, breathes unconfined
Blows away the cobwebs in my mind.



(missed deadline for contest: summer breeze)
Form: Lyric

Premium Member In This Place of Old

On silken sheets, curvaceous she
Alluring eyes are drawn to me
Pert, excited she craves my hand
In loving caress, two in understand

Gently we kiss like Rose petals soft
Whilst exterior storms lash our Highland croft
Candle light flickers across the walls we dance
Postures so sexy, delightful we stance

Passionate sighs thrall, in this place so old
Body temperatures rise deflecting it's cold
We are two become one in thunderous lust
Wanting we are absorbing loving so just

Hands wander tease in adventurous taunt
Kissing aplenty in sexily want
Avenues pursued amidst erogenous groans
Candle light dims as it bows to our moans

Loving sighs implode, together we lie graced
Enriched in we, in this wonderful place
Drifting souls entwined now entering tomorrows dreams
Displaying wonderful colours, like rainbow streams













http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-16.php
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member A tribute PROSE in RIME

A cool Autumn morning we caught the bus,off at eleven without much fuss.One 
and  half return from Croft to Leigh a birthday treat from Dad to me.Hopped on a tram to Burden park to see Stan Mathews make his mark.Through the turnstile into the town end,crushed and crammed like cattle penned. 
Mathews, Mortenson versus Nathaniel Lofthouse,a match for connoisseurs to watch. Wembly star Stan playing on at thirty eight still making inch perfect 
crosses on a plate. Shimmy,side-step,feint and dazzle,leaving the defenders in a 
right frazzle. Our ageing hero displayed all his twinkling skills,the complete pro 
without modern-day frills.Most pundits considered Stan an aged has-been but no better talent had ever been seen.
Form: Rhyme

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