Long Curtsey Poems

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


Premium Member Newness of Life

In Spring young thoughts turn to fancy
life around us is renewed
ladies wearing gowns all chintzy

Do entice men with a curtsey
careful least it's a wedding bed
in Spring young thoughts turn to fancy

Now the ladies, a few doxy's
love to spin,  their skirts all spread
Ladies wearing gowns all chintzy

Love comes courting in ecstasy
the fashion this year is redheads
in Spring young thoughts turn to fancy

The ladies are so full of moxie
lead men on but no maidenhead
ladies wearing gowns all chintzy

Fluttering eyelids so saucy
men their passions this time unfed
in Spring young thoughts turn to fancy
ladies wearing gowns all chintzy


Prodigree 1



     Roads of gold and gates of pearl are thoughts solidified, finding resting place here, 
having been purified, first, in a trial by fire- 
in the bulwarked organ 
of love's pineal desire.

Here.
Hyssop, Catmint and Cinnamomum share 
her spirit animal, with makeshift technicality, 
borrowed by her scent of purity.
The pervasiveness
of jasmine in the air in ulterior beguilement
the enstylement of my drive.

You are a banshee on the side of deserted highway,
a shiver of creep peaking near as I take a leak there.
A light orbing the mountains 
and darting into the sea.
A 4D shadow cast upon 3D tolemetry of space and
time and think.

Was your curtsey before God pleasing?
Your arguments for my torment convincing?

An Elemental in a ballet of playthings.
O Ballerina of Love's rhetorical spectre, 
boomerings-like crowns wearing.

Dancing in shadows, whispering in the night,
You ignite a fire, called daylight,
to show your darings.

But your love is fleeting, 
a melancholic melody, of eel.
Leaving my heart in perpetual reverie,
I yearn for your touch, your tender embrace of feel.

Every graceful sway, every delicate step, 
a conjugal congeal,
captures the essence of a love deep 
at my core deficiency appeals.
In twirling pirouettes, passion's heart is kept,
and in arabesques, emotions start 
to weep whispers as I sleep in Elysian fields 
of milkweed and lobelia and nightshade,
chin on window cill.
Mesmerized by the Amber waves of your influence,
One hundred percent times two in-stilled.
art
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Abstract Watercolors

I was cooped inside all the afternoon,
Missing tree and bush and garden madness;
But from my window I saw abstract blooms,
In rain's watercolors, nature's canvas!

They brightened the day, in absence of sun,
While the storm distorted without mercy,
Views of bold colors, from the lush season,
As the frantic blooms made many a curtsey.

The day was dark and the birds were hidden,
And red butterflies shut their pretty wings.
Splendor sometimes captivates unbidden,
Creating rainy day joys, of all things.

The day moved forward into the moonlight,
Conceiving an even more gorgeous sight!
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Seen But Not Heard

Forbears,Edie,Kate and Ann furnished apiece with brush and pan.Each 
Victorian 'Miss' tied in service's  abyss.Far off days,now long gone,their toil each 
day was lengthy and long.With fires to light,floors to scrub,and carpets to brush 
and drub.Mops forbidden,as they smeared the dirt and begrimed their prim 
alpaca aproned skirt.They cleaned 'his' tub,emptied 'her' commode,a regular 
chore in a housemaid's daily load.Must rise at six but never to mix and no matter 
what,keep a stiff upper lip.Never lose your cool,a formal curtsey the perpetual 
rule.Half day off once per month,so free to roam and catch the omnibus home.No 
other opportunities in store except a marriage at eighteen or before.Upstairs and 
down stairs ,no in between,starting out at just thirteen and just there to please as 
Master and his Lady take their ease.

Premium Member Song of The White Willow No 6: AABB

Venture advances, the future ... occurs,
the White Willow trees, best found by rivers
edge. Salix alba, and 'Tristis' means sad,
hence, 'Weeping', yet the essence seems to add
a picturesque of a draped graceful scene,
nay gloomy but most tranquil, and serene.
The whitish tones of the leaf's undersides
evolved the tree's name. A meter trunk, wide's,
diameter, thirty-meter stretch that
leans caused by sloped limbs that bring its Top Hat
tilted downward. A bow ... accentuates,
or curtsey, being a deciduous
tree, where the flower's genders grow distinct,
genteel parade cascades in white trimmed linked.


Premium Member Blithesome Ballerina


                     Blithesome Ballerina

The braided, lithe, ten year old ballerina,
Stepped out into her huge, beautiful yard.
Ah~ That delicious scent of a Midwest spring!
Running barefoot on the green, moist, loving 
morning shards of grass.
Her delicate, long pink ballet costume,
With pink leather ballet shoes, that so divinely matched.

The golden butterflies flapped their joyous wings,
The chorus of a joyous bird orchestra chirped for her.
The huge floral bushes scented God's most perfect,
Freshest dawn air.

Across decades of time, how she wants to reach back,
To pirorette-dream into her floral yesterdays.
If only...to inhale those delicate bouquets.
And with a graceful, ballet curtsey, to a honor a morning in May!
 
         
                           May 4, 2020
                           2:30pm PST

Enselada Russa

That folded barrio flour,
Candor candied blemish 
Was found
Beside my times
Nestled curtsey
Pliant blush

Confi, confetti
Tower piza tall
Ballerina repose throw rugs
Of roja fiends

The upright ends alone 

You know you got
Just what it takes
The stairway from I do
Baby you lost
What I take



There in wait 
I am planned forwards
Rest of mind, escapes in days
Mare on jaunt
Fred nostaire?
Parent hatred and fair
Whims and spotlighting darkness
A posting flyer of despair beautifully written 
Collide in hides
Invites and excentric 
Repulsive conversion of meeting place
School ties and community bland
age

Music Box

Movement pivots lid lifted, Pandora astonishes
      Actions perpetual pirouette dancer acknowledges
      Glamour glues sockets smooth, figurine believed 
      Image incorporates graceful, a fighter bereaved
      Curtsey in zenity as her stage lazy susan circulates


      Tulle tickled hips scissor, treasures sage congregate
      Rules spurred by war spring away from delicate damsel 
      Intimate fleshpink stretch legs enter audition to dazzle 
      Craft to elicit captivation tunes ballerina's true energy 
      Kills a brash sword brandishing cavalier, buried enemy




               Entertaining Eighteenth of January 

                        MAGIC          TRICK
Form: Couplet

Premium Member El Baile de los Chisos

Like a burnished silver concho, from Pancho Villa’s boot
That ol’ Spanish moon comes slidin’ over Encantada Butte
Then the Chisos they go stealin’, down Coahuila way
Montaña mariachis and they’re comin’ out to play

  Baile con mio M'hijito
  Señoritas, come dance and sing
  Dance por mañana acechanzas
  And soon the long shadows grow wings

The boulders make a circle as the sagebrush clears a path
And I thought I heard poquitos try to hide a little laugh
Por los gringos son mas grande, and they lumber as they waltz
While the chicas curtsey daintily and try to hide their faults

  Baile con mio M'hijito
  Señoritas, come dance and sing
  Dance por mañana acechanzas
  And soon the long shadows grow wings

As he plays the bajo sexton, the big one starts to sing
With a low and throaty whisper Mochuelo takes the wing
El coyote joins the chorus, amarillo cacti glow
Y los mestizos vaqueros, lie sleeping down below

  Baile con mio M'hijito
  Señoritas, come dance and sing
  Dance por mañana acechanzas
  And soon the long shadows grow wings

La Luna slides down in the saddle of Serranias del Madre
And the Chisos they go stealin’, back up Tejas way
They tiptoe cross the river, Rios Bravos y Grande
Soñoliento bailadores, they lie dreaming for the day

  Baile con mio M'hijito
  Señoritas, come dance and sing
  Dance por mañana acechanzas
  And soon the long shadows grow wings
Form: Verse

Premium Member Below the Glass Ceiling An Ode

Forbears,Edie,Kate and Ann furnished apiece with brush and pan.Each 
Victorian 'Miss' tied in service's  abyss.Far off days,now long gone,their toil each 
day was lengthy and long.With fires to light,floors to scrub,and carpets to brush 
and drub.Mops forbidden,as they smeared the dirt and begrimed their prim 
alpaca aproned skirt.They cleaned 'his' tub,emptied 'her' commode,a regular 
chore in a housemaid's daily load.Must rise at six but never to mix and no matter 
what,keep a stiff upper lip.Never lose your cool,a formal curtsey the perpetual 
rule.Half day off once per month,so free to roam and catch the omnibus home.No 
other opportunities in store except a marriage at eighteen or before.Upstairs and 
down stairs ,no in between,starting out at just thirteen and just there to please as Master and his Lady take their ease.
Form: Ode

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