Long Cuteness Poems
Long Cuteness Poems. Below are the most popular long Cuteness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cuteness poems by poem length and keyword.
Strappy white sandals with heavy heels
Clicking on the hood of his
1959 Pink Cadillac with the pink tailfins
Tappy Tappy Tap Tap Tap
If you think I am cute, your eyes can clap
Clickety Clickety Clickety Click. I am darling. My smile so thick.
He is sixteen, totally enthralled,
Ignoring the fact that his pride and joy car
will never be the same
It is our first date
I still have this pair of strappy clickety clack sandals
The ones I used to dance in the moonlight showing my cuteness
The ones that made his sixteen-year-old heart go pitter pat
I still have him too, and this was 1967 so….
What do you think of that?
Written May 18, 2019
Poetry Contest: Night Shoes
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin
A long journey lingering on the barren path,
turned out in the end to be worthy of waiting,
when the signs she had longed for to feel for years,
amidst the fading expectation were confirmed.
In the kingdom of dreams carved out of future,
we had made prime of the slice of our small world,
set an ornate cradle befitting of the crowned fairy,
for we knew a cherubic princess was arriving.
When I saw on mother’s lap our smiling princess
my mind flew over time beyond the realm of reality,
found our little princess turning to a dazzling damsel,
luring the prince charming with regal beauty.
Holding her soft satin fingers of curling cuteness
with a gentle hand I felt heavenly exultant,
for I sensed cradling the pristine translucent dawn,
promising to bloom as a beautiful charming day.
Just a soft touch of nascent skin it wasn’t for me,
it was the lilting lyric of emotion without words,
a mesmeric music of love and trust mutely resonating
the sense of connection I felt in her delicate pulse.
I made a nurturing nest for her to grow up secure,
kept it warm in the days of winter frost and chill.
No blasting blizzard could ever blow her away,
for I held her in the protected fold of my wings.
The effort lasted till the time she flew away,
turning the first touch of bond to strands of memory.
I keep the few feathers she left for me as a treasure
to weave the tapestry of fulfillment in my residual time.
No love for me
No love for you
Cant stand my own skin
Itchy and dry
As life continues
It comes closer to the end
The story i want to write now
Is one of impact
One of good memories
One of time well spent
No more excuses
No more anger
No more self inflicted pain
I want to evolve with in my children
I want to experience those sudden smiles
The cuteness of a six year old
The brilliance of a thirteen year old
The strength and heart of a forty-seven year old
I want to be happy and feel happy
I don't have the answers
I don't have a conclusion
But i do have a love for what i have now
I just need to find a love for me.
Please, never take a toddler to the store.
But if you do, you’ll find that I am right.
Your sanity will not endure the chore.
The struggle that ensues is no fair fight,
'cause they are armed with cuteness and a scream,
which trump your reason, bribery, and might.
The lollipop-balloon plan? That’s your scheme?
Won’t even get you halfway through your list!
You’ll only be a pawn in their regime.
They reign with chubby, dimpled, iron fists!
And though you threaten, swear and stomp the floor,
still you will have to do all they insist!
Oh, I beg you, I plead, and I implore …
Don't ever take a toddler to the store!
April 29, 2019
Quirky Tercets Poetry Contest
Nina Parmenter, Sponsor
~ the whisperer's lie - a fast-growing creeper ~ quote by poet
A whispering voice softly in the ears
romantic words in heavenly harmony
drops of love, completely out of bluish air
She loves the message that was made from soft satin
Along the way, lots of lessons were learned
His whisper held power and secrets
Her heart was breaking because of this cuteness
a wonderful melody, betrayed by lies
As a spider tail horned viper
which attracts its prey, embellish the truth
Lies as camouflage and ask for forgiveness
Heartfelt romantic whisper, speak with a forked tongue
23.04.2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- 'W' Words - Contest -
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1st place in the contest
Before iron winter commands the land
The brown ground sparks a bittersweet blaze
Bonfire breezes cross in smoky strands
Where nut stashing squirrels pause to gaze
On museums of leafy orange haze
Maroon afternoons of apple's sharp bite
Foretells the night tomcats dress as jaguars
Tricking candies for ghoulish appetites
For sweet treats, they knock on doors near and far
As spells of cuteness fill their cookie jars
Even when the morning sun flees the east
And the rains arrive, secluded and dank
We prepare to share the harvest feast
For the coming spring, behind the cloud banks
For the warmth of family ~ I give thanks.
10/16/20
For 'Autumn' poetry contest
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
I was once a koala
Fuzzy, meekly peering newbie
Chosen for convenient cuteness
But misleading, as I have never
Set foot in the Southern hemisphere
Everyone who knows me, knows
I am a beast for books
A rapturous reader, a
Paramour of the printed page
Their feel, their scent enthralling
Everyone who sees me, sees
Round red frames sliding down my nose
After years of contact lenses, I returned
To eyeglasses, just because they feel right
So come, sit, let's share a coffee or tea
Which I drink every day, with cream
Caffeine so necessary for my well-being!
Also good for your heart, it seems
Eyeglasses, books, coffee - the triumvirate of me.
1/24/19
for Star in your Avatar contest
Sponsor: Mark Massey
An image of a bottle feeder attached to my brother’s cage,
his crib - a newfangled breast without arms; only the arm
of an anti-motherly technique sold by the public freak.
I laugh, loads. I know my mom was not cold. She probably
threw this crank-y thing into the gar-bage; replaced by
a handsome hippo, stuffed with cuteness and cuddlesome.
My mom didn’t use her own milk. The sixties were hip.
No, she didn’t work outside her domicile. Life was a trip.
Tipped the scales for me, a sailor guy asking if I’d breastfeed
my upcoming bundle of joy. Think of that, from a guy’s lips
to my ears. So I looked up the idea and,indeed, thank him.
Still, my mom always nursed me with good milk; and arms.
Her mom didn’t rescue her when she tipped boiling water
and onto her foot, so she climbed up some steps to my cry.
No cells back then, except your home, all alone; with tears -
mine and hers, but hers comforted me while her foot throbbed.
I was not robbed of this story, and thus, am always careful
to carry water to the sink with compassion and caution.
Your mom, did her best? Most did, didn’t they? Selfish, hey!
Heard of one mom who left her infant son all night under the
anguished moon, no crescent to rock him, no suckling.
His anger grew…emotions embedded in darkness. Police
handed him to his grandmother who swaddled him with love
until his anger subsided; subdued by the grace of God.
What kind of mom will you be - will your love blast
into eternity? Put aside yourself, no baby anymore.
Give quick attention to a son and daughter…adore!
Written on 30th October, 2024 for the contest: Holiday Humor- Limerick Set
by Tania Kitchin. Contest Judged:
17th November, 2024
Placement: 2nd
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Our Halloween cat finally brought home,
Cuteness on display like models in Rome,
Even it shines so nice,
Like jewels of good price.
Fun smiles when it's allowed to freely roam.
Two cat buddies thought they had a new friend,
This big-eyed stranger toy cat could not bend,
Having a sway motion,
With no emotion.
To all their cat plays its mood could not blend.
Its curious hosts never saw its jumps,
Like a drunkard its walk is full of slumps,
So smittened so bad,
To make it feel sad,
But when it got shattered they both felt trumped.
Wispy, you stop it, stop being so cute,
adopter-of-warrior-orphanry spokesKitty.
Little miss adapter to Life on the road
with your beautiful hearted companion,
honorary majestic in your captivity,
of "girls night out, charming the City" and the Firemen.
O "GravyMuppet" kiss of dirty bird, gravy dog tenaciousness, climber of couches,
imp empressor of your mistress.
Artist, drawing of bath water after your drawing
with the feclined matters of scourging,
you laugh in the face of stubborn intestinal closings,
but no blockage in creativity, inn keeping
her on her toes,
or a little piece of you in her hair.
No lack of caring by your mistress through and through, Love persevering, always there for you.
O Cuteness Czar- ina , "oh yes you are",
in the Media Arena, doing your part,
in the filming of Love's Arts, sponsoring hearts.
Captivating, your part~Ropurr".
"Salivating, licking our lips for second meal~Purrina."
P.S.:
With crispy whispy whiskers aligned
with camera light reflection dot pixels-
mirrored in eyes co-signs
co-producer, "GravyMuppet Productions" equals the twinkling star, wink of the Divine, Siriusly an assign,
to those with the heart and shave of a Lion.
Dirty face and pup cupped mop tuft girls, give us more
glossys and blow ups of
tigers chasing courageivity.
Friend images,
may they be destined to join the "gravy-"dog-star" accompanying Orion (the warrior humans who never compromise their heart's integrity, at action time)
, with pink strawberry beret and soul sister-companion, guardian, forever aligned.