Long Dainties Poems
Long Dainties Poems. Below are the most popular long Dainties by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dainties poems by poem length and keyword.
A CHILD’S CHRISTMAS EVE
A child’s in thought by a cozy fire
His dog stretched out at hearthside
Big sister and a friend fun-gone
On a frosty snowy sleigh ride
His kitty Miss Boots
Done chasing a mouse
Asleep on the sill
Not a sound in the house
Then in fancy enchanted child hears
Pitter pats on the roof
A jolly fat laugh
Many reindeer hooves
The blaze in the fireplace
Pops a big log
Startles the child
And up jumps his dog
Blasé kitty Boots
Starts licking her paws
Could really care less
About Santa Claus
Well the red clad saint
From a mist slow appears
Till now stands full grown
A stroking his beard
This elf’s not imposing
No no not at all
Here stands a man not 3 feet tall
Though perfectly formed unbelievably small
Child and dog stand transfixed
Eyes open wide in complete surprise
Doubting the form is really St. Nick
Greatly puzzled because of his size
At last child in haze
In a wishing fond pause
Does stammer a question
Two words “Santa Claus?”
The vision though smiling seems not to hear
But merrily ho-hoing reaches back
And in a shower of gold
He conjures a sack
The brown bag is loaded
With all sorts of toys
Colorfully wrapped and neatly bowed
Dainties for girls sport for the boys
The gifts then fly out and under the tree
This all in a wink quit magically
Then boy and dog in amazement see
Old Santa rise up the fiery chimney
The blaze in the fireplace
Again pops the log
Again startles all three
Child kitty and dog
Christmas morn child early awakes
How tangible yestereve’s happening seemed
All colored in Christmas’ red gold and green
Was Santa Claus real or part of a dream?
Dave Austin
Up here in Canada we have our own words
Everywhere does, some think ours are absurd
Between toques, hosers and rhyming currency
Like loonies and toonies, we do speak uniquely
But narrow it down to one province specific
Our Saskatchewan tongue is fairly prolific
We drive on the blacktop to get to the grid
To get to the cabin you went to as a kid
Past the RM’s to grab a two four o’ Pil
Put on my bunnyhug to ward off a chill
Wearing thongs in the summer to the river and back
But the ones on our feet, not the ones up our crack
Kitty-corner from the LB is the Rider store
For watermelon helmets, jerseys and more
Our die-hard fans, they all bleed green
Filling the stands, not a bush league team
Daylight savings? Not on our clocks or phones
For anyone in Saskabush or Pile’o’Bones
Or Elbow, Eyebrow, Climax and Oxbow
Moosejaw, Moosamin and Findlater also
And if you were in P.A. for any time spent
You’d know poor deadly is a compliment
Swimming at Pike used to give you the itch
But it’s all better now so jump in, in your gitch
Even if you’re in the city you know everyone
Probably from the small town that their cousin is from
Someone always chuckles when they say Speedy Creek
We like eating dainties, drinking Vico and Beep
Land of the living skies on or license plates
With good prairie storm clouds, the view’s kinda great
Take a left by the elevator and a right at the barn
Keep going until you’re 20 clicks past the farm
See the dog with one ear up and one ear down
And those are all the directions to get to that town
Full of colloquialisms you may not know well
If you're not from the easy to draw, hard to spell ;)
And when the lovers find themselves floating through the tip toe daisies
Being sure to avoid the yellow dainty forms around them in a pretty sleep
Kissing the sky as they go by with eyes closed happy in a trance
Being sure to notice how real imagination can be with all that magic
All the fireworks exploding colors loud around will keep them safe
As they parade past mountains high tickled into wide awake on tip toe feet
Where they can see forever past the landscape coming nearer than a hug
It must be love because the color of her cheeks are turning pink
And nothing is sweeter than pink they think as they cling to the tops of trees
Arms wrapped around each other simultaneously as they swing to Saturn
The spinning ring is like a wedding band placed on her lovely hand in marriage
It must be love and they must be lovers
And friends and other things with feelings
Because the yellows on the daisies continue sleeping in their yellow dainties
And greens continue on the trees they touch and love so much romantic
Authors Note: The author realizes that using a conjunction to begin this poem is wrong. It could be a sin or even criminal in some circles. He wants you to know that he does not travel in those circles and he does not care. He thinks that the next time he might use “but” and further thinks, “so what.” (If you are looking for a question mark at the end of “so what” you will have to continue your search elsewhere.)
A Fair Maiden
A Fair Maiden
We look inside the wool sack left dangling in the wind
To light the flame of what we have been searching for within
She dances in a ring of fire yet throws off a challenge with a shrug
Looking for deep reflections of sweet love from above
While living in her plush castle among the allegiance
She looks at nature with it's fallen embers of soft green colors
Draws from the well of the sproutng spring along the river
Sends a shiver down her spine of sublime intent
Looks deep in her drawer for paper to write on
Making music out of the sweet melodic chimes in her room
Very carefree as her master sips on his port
A garden was planted outside in the dusk
Shelter lies dormant amidst it's beckoning plough
Travels to the market square to buy dainties filled with perfume
The songs that she sings sweet presence of lavender dew
A court jester laughs as she sits in the abode of her study
Making colors out of the sky seen by a fleeting passerby
The king has summoned her presence to a far away palace
Soon she may be selected as the honrable lady or queen
By the ocean she sets her sights on the make believe
Into a far off forest fr one heart willing to achieve
A rainbow in the dark amidst it's timeless plight
Forget the night it's a new chosen day by which to bow the knee to pray
A heart very sweet in the nature of solace follows her touch
Vials of stolen waters are sweet
To the drunkard who drinks
As if he has not drank
Who inside is like bottled up wine
Pouring new wines into an old wine skin
Though he must vent, ready to burst
He considers not that the wines will run out
And that the bottle will perish
Thus, the simple man seeks another drink
Making glances and taking chances
With festive dances and forbidden romances
The winebibber staggers and falls into deep ditches
Full of the nectar and the dregs of the flesh
Under the tree of knowledge in fields of subtle venoms
Loaves of secret bread are pleasant
To the glutton who gluts
As if she lacks bread
Wiping her mouth saying she has done no wrong
Though she’s known, a woman given to appetite
Yet she puts not the knife to her throat
Neither considers the dainties before her
That such food id deceitful meat
The strange woman craves more delacacies
Making glances and taking chances
With festive dances and forbidden romances
The riotous eater of flesh gnash a mouthful of gravel
Engorged with the grains she grinds
That pierce, alas, like a sword and stabs like a dagger
Whose drowsiness clothes with rags
And covers such impoverished souls
With hunger and sleep, thus you must listen
Guide your heart in the Way
And be not among them
Lest you learn their ways snaring your one soul.
Serenity bliss in gracious communion sweet
engulfs my grateful soul… while heavenly windows
open themselves wide for me, “amid jagged shadows
of mossy leafless boughs” --- in my worship retreat.
Wondrous meeting with the Lord, joyously divine
Revives my spirit, anticipating blessings
Conquering sufferings from crises oppressings
Assured by bountiful dainties, preciously mine.
Gripped with adoration zeal during altar call
My heart exalts* my Saviour along trust fervor
Triumphing over guilt by His pardon’s savor
Propped am I to follow Him to stewardship hall.
Thus, “amid jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs”**
I can behold service-buds blooming through God’s light
Since my faith He upholds to conquer distress blight
Enabling me, despite flaws, to fulfill my vows.
*Isaiah 25:1 O LORD, thou art my God; I will exalt thee, I will praise thy name; for thou hast done wonderful things; thy counsels of old are faithfulness and truth.
**Samuel Taylor Coleridge
November 28, 2019
2nd place, "Writing Challenge 3- November - Any Form" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode; judged on 12/3/2019.
When discontentment grips my soul
stricken with “if only” litany
midst tormenting doubts attacking…
…helplessly beseeching for escape flight
while wallowing in failure along frustration angst ---
My Lord hoists my faith, reviving my heart
toward triumphant service.
Cognizant of uncertainty-filled response
to future upon insecurities' “maybe" flood
my carnality pursues gainful personal whim
making me swerve from devotion-vow
retreating into convenience and comfort ---
My God drives my commitment ardor
in building lives, vanquishing selfishness, indeed vain.
As skepticism obscures sublime vision
magnifying “sometime” pleasure
distracting heavenly focus…
my human nature succumbs to festive dainties
yet suffocating my spirit ---
My Saviour through His redeeming love*
reaches out to me with revival peace glow.
*2Corinthians 13:11 “… Be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you.”
August 4, 2020
3rd place, "If only, maybe, sometimes" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 8/5/2020.
Greed sways motionless
It plummets into the valley of worthless
Is it immoral stealing
It does obliterate opportunity
Selflessness is a river of unbreakable unity
It jeopardizes our freedom,
A determination that makes you fearlessly overcome
It is destroying our hope
So now how can we cope
Corrupting all the goods, food, money,
Wealth doesn't come swiftly
So much evil never leads to a good act
Now there are so few haves
Leaving the world with have not
Ask yourself how did hell get so hot ?
That makes these things an addiction
It macerates beyond recognition
It chastise you even beyond death
So help someone less fortunate why there is still time left
Innovative an unbeatable peace; between man and the surplus environment
Cheerfully uniting you with your rudiments
Incline not my heart to any evil thing, to practice wicked works with men that work iniquity:
and let me not eat of their dainties. Punishment of.
Psalms 141:4
Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's need, but not every man's greed.
Mahatma Gandhi
Grace granted us a say on our knees:
a thousand pleas pummeled the sky,
stirred the heavens. The Lord moved,
gentle thunder rumbled:
My daughter's back home!
Our hearts sank, too heavy to bear,
for Janet was a sweetheart, a mother
we've hugged for twenty years and more—
never saw anger crease her comely face
or her girth tinged with the pride of life.
Janet exudes the glow of midsummer noon.
With a voice that strikes heaven's chords,
she thrills songbirds to spin at sessions—
at Shekinah Nights while sky dresses in gold.
Now, birds hush! Whither our songstress?
She's gone!! A while longer would've been
our joy, sharing the dainties of Janet's large heart.
But how long will we mortals hold up the call,
knowing a day of death is set at birth?
The Lord has done His good pleasure—we bow.
So, we wish you Goodnight Mama Janet,
in hope of the Glorious Morning.
Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
March 2019
Your Majesty, your meal is served.
May it fit your royal taste.
Only the best for you reserved,
Sweet milk with wine is laced.
Please make your judgment not in haste,
Dear Sir I plead with you.
This dish before you humbly placed,
I offer sav'ry stew.
.
Only the best you have deserved.
May it be not a waste.
You are so slim and nicely curved
It adds not to your waist.
Your fish well cooked with a nice baste
Fine flavors coming through.
In finest china it’s encased.
I offer sav'ry stew.
I’ve sought the best with zeal unswerved.
To markets I have raced.
Your every fancy I’ve observed
Ensuring fare be chaste.
For rarest dainties I have chased.
My liege deserves his due.
Delightful delicates I’ve traced.
I offer sav'ry stew.
For you my feline prince I’ve faced
More worries than you knew
That your fine taste be not debased.
I offer sav'ry stew.
For Ballade contest