Long Daisy Poems
Long Daisy Poems. Below are the most popular long Daisy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Daisy poems by poem length and keyword.
Deluded wants?, by Daisy kabiu
Was it stupid to want something you never had?
Something that can't be touched.
Possessing it was impossible.
Finding it in all its glory
Raw, unfiltered, and all-consuming, impossible.
Something that can only be given.
Sweet and soft.
Shared, but not owned.
You crave it, thirst for it.
But
Do you really want it?
You see what it does to people, blind, corrupt, and drain their souls.
But you tell yourself, those people don't know how to nurture it.
They are weak.
But aren't you the weak one?
Scared to have something that is right in front of you.
Deluding yourself that you have never found it.
Yet it's all around you.
You're not stupid for wanting it.
You're the coward for not taking it.
It's right in front of you.
Accept it.
Baptized in the eddies of shimmering creeks.
,Passages are crossed far beyond what's seen.
Clothes pin dolls donning hand-sewn clothes.
Souls made of papyrus; hearts carved in oak.
Mountain folks know things that you'll never know
A few stay forever and others stray for "things"
hymns on gilded meadows -a vow to never leave.
The sun offers heartbeat to all wayward beings
she's a fiery star riding razor-blade dreams
One day she took off down the lower path
a clothespin doll slipping gently from her hand.
Fleeing salvation mountain, never looking back
a daisy chain lay where her heart once bled.
Another red-eyed sunrise, eve taps stiletto black
she's a wingless pigeon cooing for the misty past.
At the end of asphalt rainbows, a mirror full of cracks
a million pricks ago the starry dream collapsed.
In concrete hearts, there's little shade for peace
from which a mountain soul can gracefully retreat.
With a rustle of leaves, she's finally called back home
,, psalms sprinkled over ashen dreams of feral ghosts.
Mountain folks know things that you'll never know.
Imagine yourself as a raindrop
Sharing space in a cloud
Will I be part of a morning shower
Or the member of an angry crowd
Will I fall to earth on a gentle breeze
Or ride the currents of a storm
Will I be cool or refreshing
or steamy muggy and warm
Will I bounce upon some rooftop
Or touch the leaf of a tree
Rising along a storm surged tide
Seeking some way to be free
Will I kiss the petals of a daisy
And glisten in the sun
Or fall into a lazy pond
That has no where to run
Will I gently touch the soft brown earth
Searching to find my roots
Attach myself to a passerby
Who is wearing rubber boots
Will I find myself in a glass
as part of a lemonade
Or settled in a sheltered ditch
As a puddle in the shade
A raindrop's life is ongoing
Like the angels tears Caressing the earth
Rising once again into the sky
Clouds symbolize rebirth
Just imagine it for a moment
And think of the rainbow in flight
A raindrop divided into colors
Bathed in heavenly light
Imelda would spread her faerie magic
upon the many creatures of the wood;
and like a ball of soft plastic
it one day bounced upon a bunny-hood.
Young bunnies were making daisy chains
amid firefly lit bluebells this eve;
as a rainbow smiled post gentle rain
Imelda pulled a wand from her sleeve.
She blessed these little rabbits, two
that ever contented they might be;
and many lovely daisies they’d accrue
to artistically decorate the woodland trees.
Young Nipsy Belle and Paddy Pim,
twins of the Hares, Laurel and Ted,
were filled with talent to their brim
and made themselves some daisy-beds.
Into their heads Imelda inserted
imaginings by the moon’s light;
and they grew to create assorted
floral sculpted, woody sights.
Topiaries built on tree trunks
crafted from ivy and wildflowers;
they built sunflower bunks
scattered through the woodsy bowers.
Imelda’s magic had them working
day and night, crafting with elated ease;
these bunnies, they were so hardworking
their faerie they did surely please.
Buds have turned into perfumed flowers,
and we, happily dazed, spend endless hours
on the vast and daisy-swarmed meadow...
while the branches of the willow gracefully bow!
Softly rolling on lush grass with sunlit-eyes and love-inflamed lips,
we abandon ourselves to every imaginable desire
that runs through our veins by slowing down time...
on this soft meadow of intense passion, the spring sun slowly dips!
Some lovers choose a sailing ship to entice romance;
with wind and splashing waves love becomes tense,
they never find a quieter spot where one is happily dazed
by the bright sunlight and strong scent of a sunset so awaited!
Inklings of Love
Love is a never ending daisy chain
Lovely as damselfly sparkling with dew
Joyful as rainbows in sky after rain.
Cherish that you have a treasure so true
Celebrate that her love glitters and glows
Lovely as damselfly sparkling with dew.
In fragrance of daisies where'er she goes
Enlighten her she's your favoured flora
Celebrate that her love glitters and glows.
Tell her often you adore her aura
Sprinkle stardust when’er she pirouettes
Enlighten her she’s your favoured flora.
Admire her for her exquisite assets
Create glorious memoir souvenirs
Sprinkle stardust when’er she pirouettes.
On her bestow moonbeam, smile through the years
Love is a never ending daisy chain
Create glorious memoir souvenirs
Joyful as rainbows in sky after rain.
*+*+*
21st April 2023
Inklings Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Today, Heaven made its wings out of the clouds,
and it's raining on people with angels and flowers,
The sun is red like a bashful child,
and the field is filled with poppy flowers dancing in the breeze.
A ray, wanting to be chicer,
has associated discreet with a daisy,
because both had the same thought;
to be tiaras for those on earth.
The trees are dressed in fresh green,
A spring wind, whistles a ballade for panpipes,
The birds gather in choirs and chirp a new song.
It's May, and I am happy!
Every night I dance with the stars,
I'm thinking of Eternal Spring,
A drop of Heaven smoothly dripped into my soul,
Ah, how beautiful the month of May is!
I met her at a biker bar
(C) 2025 by Russ Dodson
I met her at a biker bar
somewhere in midtown Monterrey.
She said she was a topless dancer,
working fifteen shifts a day.
She handed me a well-worn token,
said her name was Daisy Mae,
said if I learned to play the game right
I would never have to pay.
I placed the token on the table,
waited for the song to play.
When it started, she stood up;
I watched her body start to sway.
She headed for a dressing room,
looked back and said, "Don't go away."
She returned wearing a costume
meant to lead a man astray.
In pasties and a beaded g-string,
everything was on display.
Her eyes said, "This is all for you, love."
There was nothing more to say.
Changes in weather are mostly to cold.
So much harder to do as we grow old.
When done, we regret not doing it sooner.
Dillydallying, a renowned late-bloomer.
Change is oft forecast as a gentle breeze,
Refreshing our spirits, setting at ease,
Offering rewards of a brighter dawn,
With lives uplifted, with good hope reborn.
But change can be fierce, its tempest untamed,
Shattering the foundations, leaving hearts maimed,
For the quest for self, leaves others behind,
Well beyond what changes you had in mind.
What's forgotten is changes' daisy chain.
All the forget-me-not strung out to blame
You for the chain reaction that change brings
With its bunch of unintended bad things.
Remember that in the change are keepsakes,
That can get blitzed to pulp in quakes and shakes.
There is more to a flower than just a flower
There's a spreading fragrance surrounding the air.
There are velveteen petals, falling and scattering,
all over my skin, and a daisy in my hair.
There is more to the wind than just a wind
There was never a breeze that hadn't whispered
my beloved's name.It breathes as it pleases,
It drifts purple leaves slowly in my dreams
with a soft and gentle sway.
There is more to the bird than just a bird
There's music in each garden
with an angel song to be heard.
There's a flutter, a heartbeat
There are wings of a freedom conquered.
There is more to the moon and the stars
than just a moon and a star.
They brighten the night, like a fire-fly
Wherever you are, no distance is too far
No sky is too high.
There is more to ocean waves
than just an ocean wave.
Every coast they embrace
Splashing spumes on our toes
and moist salt on our face.
With each wave that we ride
We will win the tide, which with strength
comes crashing the feelings we hide.
There is more to fire than just a fire
There is passion , desire.
With its red curving lines
It brings warmth to the eyes
To our dark moors brings light
This fire is alive.
With its embers and flames
On winter frosty days
It flickers and burns,
keeping the cold away.
There is more to humans than humans
So much more to who we are.
There is soul and compassion
There is love in the present
There is joy which resides
In each one of us.
There is more to this world than just a world
If you do not believe, just follow me.
I will take you to places,Such magical places
where beauty keeps showing
wherever we'll be.