Long Curly Poems
Long Curly Poems. Below are the most popular long Curly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Curly poems by poem length and keyword.
she could hear the skittering and scratching around the oak
her allies and army were readying themselves, squirrel folk
She had been raised by them after being abandoned by man
Squirrels were at her ready, when she gave the command.
Some call her Anguish, but she is truly full of love and joy.
She had been raised by the curly-tails, a young girl and boy.
They showed her how to use her feet to run around trees.
Living in the forest with these creatures, was a breeze.
Squirrel Girl was ready to begin her new battle cry.
Thanos was after her, and she kind of knew why.
She had bested him along with her squirrel friends.
The confidence she had was enormous, it would never end.
I BOW to YOU : James, The Title “ I Closed my Eyes to See, I now Dream “
Caught my eye The form Couplet : (which I’m not Good at) Touched my Heart
A bit Critique: I wonder to myself ; why YOU did not Mention
The Softness of her hair; (Curly Blond : Ebony Tresses : Flowing “ Auburn “)
“Azure Blue Eyes” My Lenore had Emerald Green ; Reflecting in the Forest
Where all of Nature Could be Astounded by the Mirror Images of Themselves
“A scent so Beautifully strong “ It lures the Man’s Heart; to indulge in Forever LOVE
“ my Queen” , my breath , my Heartbeat: My Everything I was born For; I die for
A massage “ Her nape, shoulders the back “ Creating a Moment of Pure LOVE
“ Beauty in she Abounds, through Loved eyes my Love I see" : entwined Eternity
Inspired by James Fraser’s POEM “ I Closed my Eyes to See, I now Dream “
Dedicated to James Fraser, and all that He LOVES
Author’s Note : I Thank-YOU James, for writing the Best POEM I Have ever Read
I am putting this as a "Natural Couplet" I'm sorry it doesn't Rhyme Please Advise
SWEET DREAM
Fatigued maiden sat at leisure holding
book on her lap.
Sleepy eyes
tend to
close.
Long
golden
curly hair
shimmering sheen
Fair fairy sank in drowsy dulcet dream
08/18/20
'Double Tetractys ' Contest by Eve Roper
8th grade algebra class
Hyper chit chat from black-caped Louis
And his stringy long-haired buddy Richard
In the hallways before class they slap
The bare back necks of unsuspecting classmates
Stamping foreheads
Making the nuck nuck and whoop whoop of Larry Moe and Curly
That’s what they were re-enacting
With knees slipped under their tiny desks
As Mr. B has his back turned
Scratching formulas from his nails on the blackboard
When he pivots like a pitcher to boos
Lifts his toes to first base and baseball throws
The felt eraser full of all his mis-calculations
A lifetime of rage
Poof powder
Waffle imprint on Richard’s cheek
A cloud of chalk blonds his hair
Beards his performance grin
Richard has a look like when he’s seen his dad
Come home again and again and again
After happy hour
Leaps to his bedroom door
Holding the side of his face
“You can’t do that! You can’t do that!”
Out he disappears
Mr. B clasps his hands and fixes his face to his family
“Now for quiet.”
And we don’t dare say anything.
Flamingos in the mud with wet flat feet,
search for curly shrimp to eat.
They preen and rest in their Mangrove nest.
Eagles, America's great bird of prey are so very brave and strong.
On the ground their dinner scurries around,
but a big lake fish is their favorite dish.
Adelie penguins build their nests with stones they like to steal.
Tuxedos waddling on the icy floor,
lay one lonely egg and never anymore.
Toucans eat lizards from artistic beaks.
Akward rainforest fellows under umbrella trees,
they clack, tap, and nap in the rainforest breeze.
Hummingbirds fly backwards, those emerald acrobats.
The smallest bird you have ever seen,
eggs no bigger than a jellybean!
Emus are the tallest birds in the world, with abbreviated necks.
Their tiny wings mean they can't fly.
Imagine an emu soaring by!?
Robins cuddling in a Sycamore tree, father, mother, soon babies three.
Little blue eggs fill their cozy nest.
Tomorrow sad worms for a first breakfast.
Seagulls on the beach appear lovely and white.
Just never leave your sandwich alone in plain sight.
Do not be fooled by their innocent gait, for bologna and cheese, they won't
wait!
There is barely room on the log and the little one said “move over!”
Foxglove is lovely, they agreed, as they watched the waving clover.
What kind of trickery is this? Curly Que asked. This is our vacation?
The rest of the crows knew it was her son's surprise graduation.
As her baby flew by, she got a tear in her eye, worth the wait.
Why didn’t you tell me? She asked, loving her son’s fate.
He soared high, his first solo flight. It was totally great.
Would have one replied, but we were sworn to secrecy by your mate.
Best day ever. There were shiny things on the ground now – prizes.
Happy crows picked them up along with tasty night crawling surprises.
Black snake was gone, and the party was a huge success for sure!
The foxglove smiled, glad to be part of this party, wholesome and pure.
Stripes as a kitten was all over the face –prancing, dancing, in my face.
We loved to watch him jump, hop, and dance all over the place.
He loved to spot a sneaky fast mouse, and give it a hero’s chase.
Stripes’ energy was well-known; running flat out was his pace.
He gets more excited every time I come, my mother-in-law said.
She tried to corral him, give him catnip treats, get him on the bed.
Stripes would have none of that, he was holding a rabbit, dead.
Of course the rabbit had already lost his chewed off head.
Does he ever slow down? The neighbors asked as he went twirling by.
Stripes was always in motion, a curly que whirly twirly tomcat of a guy.
The neighborhood felines meowed at him and fluttered their feline eyes.
He had litters from the west edge of the Valley way past Van Nuys.
Do you see that girl?
The one over there.
With earbuds in and curly hair.
Curly hair that no one liked.
That’s brought mild contempt a good part of her life.
Do you see that girl?
Sitting all alone,
Making strange gestures over paper, tablet, or phone.
She hides the fact that she can write and draw,
From teachers and friends. (She’d hate if they saw.)
Can you hear her hum?
Tunes happy and sad.
Just that simple action makes her heart glad.
But she struggles to sing when others can hear.
Her voice is a secret that she holds near.
She plays the piano, the clarinet too.
She’s actually proud of what she can do.
But if you ask her to show you,
She’ll do her best to say no.
Even close friends are confused. (She knows).
Sometimes she doesn’t care,
Sometimes she’s fine,
But a part of the time, that’s just the outside.
“I don’t want them to see.”
“I don’t want them to judge.”
Her inner thoughts won’t let her be.
In quite moment’s she wonders
“Did they mean what they said?”
“What did they really want?”
‘Til there’s pain in her head.
Because she’s too much a tomboy,
Her curls aren’t neat;
There’s no makeup on her face,
Or heels on her feet.
Her style is too different.
Her music all kinds.
Her interests are nerdy.
She sleeps all the time.
If she becomes quiet,
When you compliment her art.
Remember she has an anxious mind and heart.
If her hands and voice quiver,
When she sings out loud,
Just be glad you’re there in the crowd.
When she comes out of her box,
Don’t make a big scene.
Just quietly accept it,
Don’t point and scream.
Compliments are fine, but she’s going to blush.
She’ll disagree a little, but won’t tell you to shush.
She’s trying to do better.
She’s trying not to hide.
To make things the same,
Between the ins and outsides.
You know you like her “as is”,
She’ll know someday too.
Be patient with her,
And she might smile for you.
1874….
The spectacularly lacey ferns rose up and fluffed themselves as self-appointed front-drops to the hidden cave.
Thus insuring this scene would remain a secret, secluded, unvisited spot for the next four or five hundred years, having no idea both parents had found this spot when they were his age.
2286…
A young girl with long curly hair, brown eyes, splashes of freckles, and curiosity a yard long re-discovered his Magic Cave, only she named it “Twinkle Pretty Cave.”
Neither realized that this cave in the back forty acres of their relatives’ property was always discovered by twelve and a half year olds. And especially never realizing that she would soon forget “Twinkle Pretty Cave” existed
The cave only showed itself to twelve and a half year olds, but when they turned 15 or drank their first drop of alcohol, whichever came first, they would promptly forget it, as it was a childhood place.
The cave laughed, thinking of all the twelve and a half year olds that were to keep coming, because they never stopped. They had been coming ever since she could remember. And they would just keep coming.
Sudden gust swayed your curly hair
My tingling passion tends to flare.
Emotive urge made a vibrant leap.
Dreamy desires I wished to share.
For moments heart beats seemed to skip
Bubbling blood flowed and flooded deep.
Beside stream strand we stood at ease.
With my finger I touched your lip.
You got startled on blowing breeze.
Quacked loud pair of goose and geese.
Sun went down displaying twilight
with promise of Sun, again to rise.
Evening darkened in own delight :
Displaying tapestry of stars came night
I could not control my first kiss :
Amour got sealed, Moon glowing bright.