Long Delightedly Poems
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What can we tell you?
We are all here, green, and fruitful,
even the wrecked and rabid
all our budding devils and gods
slobbering delightedly
over words,
pictures we put together
with fingers sticky with sap
childing each other,
completing one jigsaw at a time
problem solving,
problems we manufactured
in the root factories of a soft labor,
a work to keep us tightly wrapped up
in a sense of self exploration
to keep us rambunctious enough
to think we are creating something
when in fact, that ‘something’
is actually ‘us’,
and we do ‘us’ well
but when we don’t, we call that spillage
and over ripeness -
a poem.
Little Bo Peep her head full of soft cotton wool
Lost sheep! No wonder. She thinks her ram is a bull
Over the hills and far far away
forever these sheep are astray
whilst their little plump bellies remain, delightedly full
There once was a sweetheart with title of Cinderella
Met a desperate and randy old fella
In her carriage she fled
prefer he stayed out of her bed
If she has to she'll hide way down in the cellar
Hickory Dickory Dock a big electric clock
shorted out, three mice endured a shock
The farmers wife's knife very blunt
Kept their tails laughed at her stunt
Will they run up again they'll immediately now take stock
There was a tarantula spider well known as Incy or Ipsy
Hotel every Friday always came tottering home very tipsy
His dwelling is named the Web Inn
When drunk renamed Wobble In
Constructed inside a web that's attractive and wispy
Humpty Dumpty he sat on a ten metre wall
Such a conceited big head he was due for a fall
Suddenly bricks took a tumble
Humpty now atop this big jumble
Come stick me together that was his desperate call
Jack an invitation to step sister Jill
Together lets go sliding down this long hill
Jill ripped her pants
can't wear them to dance
But the sliding together gave them a wonderful thrill
Little Miss Muffet sat perched on her tuffet
The porridge too hot to eat she said stuff it
Through her guts went the curds
passed out now as turds
She then arrived to eat some fruit at a buffet
Little Jack Horner still remains in the same corner
For many years an inveterate mourner
Once pulled out the plum
That injured his bum
Decided it's time to cheer himself up so dived inside a hot sauna
Her big eyes shone while to her chest she clasped
the violin her dad worked hard to buy.
Delightedly that Christmas morn, she gasped
to see it; then she promised she would try
with all her might to learn to master it!
She practiced hard. The girl that they called Bright Eyes
would dedicate her all. She never quit.
Each day and night, she strove to memorize
the strings’ sweet notes, in love with allegretto!
How quickly she caught on, and one main goal
was in her offering of a vibrato,
which - when it filled the air - might touch one’s soul!
Today she casts such magic with her bow
that all who hear are warmed by Bright Eye’s glow.
written 12/29/14 by Andrea Dietrich
Now for the Trashed 4 Poetry Contest Sponsor: Broken Wings
Nature breathes gentle songs through the winds and wings, creating an intimacy with God which sparks the twinkle in both the stars and eyes ~ Quote by Poet
~~~
Whispering softly, liquid against smooth stones
Caressing my naked thoughts, my imagination, my heart
Roaring rapids pouring over in rushing torrents of unspoken words
Creating tender melodies of unspeakable joy, faith, hope and love
Breathless laughter trembles from silent stars
Twinkling delightedly, inspiring souls to listen to their falling smiles
Coloring the night in shimmering displays of emotions that inspire
Dancing flames of wisdom color the dawn in lemon rays
Sunlight sighs through the azure sky, embracing souls
Warming thoughts with awe of heaven
Nature's music invites prayers and psalms to become well known
Lingering on minds for moments alive with a spiritual warmth
Lifting shadows from the darkest grief
Capturing hymns of enlightenment, amazement and unending grace
~~~
7/13/2021
What can we tell you?
We are all here, green, and fruitful,
even the wrecked and rabid
all our budding devils and gods
slobbering delightedly
over words,
pictures we put together
with fingers sticky with sap
childing each other,
completing one jigsaw at a time
problem solving,
problems we manufactured
in the root factories of a soft labor,
a work to keep us tightly wrapped up
in a sense of self exploration,
keep us rambunctious enough
to think we are creating something
when in fact, that ‘something’
is actually ‘us’,
and we do ‘us’ well
but when we don’t we call that spillage
and over ripeness -
a poem.
On your neck the moonlight
caressing the crescent hairline
a boy flying kites
I sip a little red wine
Out of the window
leaves rustle gently
Moonlight walking on the toes
shifts on a bunch of the lily
A blade of a deep urge
raising ripples in my pores
A sea lavishing its surge
on delightedly bursting shore
The pomegranate cracked open
pink pearls travelled to your fingers
Desires so long unspoken
didn't agree to linger
The fireplace I was sure
you looked for too
I watched heat waves on your face
and seas in eyes turning blue
Let the dense clouds combine
in a lightning sketching the storm
the sparks it's hard to define
rendering us devoid of form
Wings of the eagle
swimming aloft in the air
With the golden grey clouds
an ecstatic affair
Punkisimo
My own nonsense word
Laughter with my muse
Delightedly figuring out meaning
Enthusiastic gang singing on American Idol
Relaxdressica
Created on site, here and now folks
Misunderstood emotions
Tamped down into a meditative dressing ritual
Deals with taking off clothes and sleeping in the buff
Zebracillia
Invented cheerfully while we chewed
Our striped gums neighing at each other
While dancing the miranga during
A baby zebra's birthing celebration
Gravetia.
Italian. Upsets the French to hear it.
Understanding of statue of Love
Petitioners want to replace Statue of Liberty
Americans reluctant to let them in to do it.
Suspicious of everyone now.
We woke up early to a 50 degrees morning….six o’clock to be specific
In order to make the 70 mile trip to Rialto Beach on the coast of the Pacific.
It was a two hour circuitous trip …since we had to be there by nine
there was no time to linger about
because Rialto Beach is only open when the tide is out.
The beach is known for it’s sea stacks…tiny islands standing free
once connected headlands…that long ago have been eroded by the sea.
It is also known for its tree graveyard…once tall, majestic now fallen trees
that storms have deposited on this coast
made bare and bleached by ocean winds…
against the dark sand…they now lie there white as ghosts.
Finally this beach is also known…once the tide recedes
for something very cool…
the starfish, anemones and snails that inhabit its tidal pools.
Walking in the deep and darkened sand…for two old people was a chore
but on we trudged because we were seeing things we’d never seen before.
People watching us struggling to walk up the beach…
might have cried out wistfully
“Look at those two old people…walking tentatively by the sea.”
But something wonderful happened to to us
every time we sat atop a ghostly looking tree
every time we saw a sea stack, a starfish or anemone.
With each new adventure that day we experienced along the shore…
we felt a little younger than we did a moment before…
Which meant people watching us walk back down the beach…
might have cried out delightedly…
“Look at how young those two old people look…walking by the sea.”
I seem to recall a story
Long, long ago
Where two pillars of their Gods
Stood beside the Atlantic flow
They stood at the end
Of a great walled canyon
To another world you'd pass
Where every one was a companion
These people were so advanced
So far ahead of their time
Their nautical skills amazed
Leaving passing sailors sublime
Their culture was a wonder
As they lived in white marbled cities
Toned men so muscle bound
And their women so delightedly pretty
They never fought in wars
They had no reason too
No enemy could ever advance
Their Gods would never let them through
They could only encroach by ship
But their Gods would see them come
Their pillars would move together
Then a mighty wave would run
The waters would climb so high
To meet their skies of blue
When the mighty pillars met
The wave crashed down on their crews
When the waters calmed
Their was no sight of them
No debris from their ships
Or even floating men
What ever happened to this world
We could learn so much from them
Where Gods protected their people
All children, women and men
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-6.php
Your retreat I watch laden with the heavy beat of your soles
Pray strength I keep father as this rough stretch calls to me
In light your teachings to follow my heart fright should not bring
Oh king you know well it’s dusk to kiss the lessons away
For school our private chats were and each scoop you delightedly gave
A princess you said wasn’t all purple so pretense I can’t display
Fondly intelligence you spoke of as the very essence to a free mind
And blessed are you for your insights truly blended with my inexperience
As gem, desire to shine and like you jet more and explore
20/2/2015
Contest: Plucky Two By Nine