Long Dressing gown Poems
Long Dressing gown Poems. Below are the most popular long Dressing gown by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dressing gown poems by poem length and keyword.
A ladybird landed, on my hand today,
And looked at me, in a peculiar way.
It stretched it’s legs, and opened its wings,
As birds flew by, soft melodies they’d sing.
“Excuse me sir?”, the ladybird squeaked,
“May I sit here?, it’s safety I seek!”.
I looked in shock, the ladybird spoke!
“I’m really tired, and I’ve lost my folk”.
“Of course you can rest”, I said to my hand,
Where the tiny bug, found a place to land.
I was shocked and stunned, to what had occurred,
I didn’t know ladybirds, could speak a word.
“Where are you from?”, I said to the bug,
“From the old oak tree”, as he sat so snug.
“My family are there, could you take me?
I’ve missed the buzz bus” - the back of a bee.
“I must be crazy”, I said to myself,
As the ladybird sat, regaining its health.
I got up on my feet, and turned to the oak,
“This must be a dream, or a strange old joke”.
I walked to a leaf, and placed the bug down,
His mother came out, wearing a dressing gown.
“Where have you been?!” The mother cried,
“I have been to the beach, on his hand I have lied”.
“Thankyou kind sir, for taking me home,
I got quite scared, and felt alone”.
Then I woke up, it was a strange old dream,
I knew the events, weren’t as they seem.
I walked out the room, and down the stairs,
To find a ladybird, was in my hair.
I laughed a little, and went on with my day,
A little ladybird, that had gone astray.
Noise, Noise, Noise
That’s all I ever hear
It’s getting so loud and intrusive, that I begin to fear
How much more noise can my ears take
As I live in fear for my mental state
What happened to the bird song that I used to hear each day
The sound of waves upon the beach as excited children play
The chuff, chuff, chuff of steam trains, from a bygone time I loved
The cows a mooing
The sheep a bleating
And the cooing of a dove
I love to hear my blackbird as it sings both day & night
And even screeching seagulls surpass the din of a building site
With noise that comes from traffic as it trundles through the town
I stay at home my windows shut clothed in my dressing gown
At times when I can hardly hear the sound of my own voice
I have to shout
I have to shriek
I really have no other choice
The noises and vibrations are the sounds of daily living
They make me stressed
I feel so bad
They are so unforgiving
I fear with all this noise pollution
There is no cure, there’s no solution
So to deafen the din drink a bottle of gin
And to stop my decline drink a bottle of wine
And by then everything will sound fine…
Written April 9 2018
Contest Strand no 700
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st PLACE
Stan and Mary went in town
To buy Stan a new dressing gown.
But he wanted a woollen one
In our March that is not on.
The shops are full of summer clothes
But Stan’s not warm enough for those.
Mary likes to look around
But see how old Stan frowns
.So Mary says,I’ll go online
I’m sure I’ll find some fully lined
Made of wool and acrylic…
Them you can make your pick.
Thank you,Mary,you are kind
despite that brilliant,wandering mind.
I am the best dressed man intown
And soon I’ll have my gown.
Would you like cafe au lait?
I have my pension,I shall pay.
Very nice,dear Mary said…
I’d like a piece of bread.
Won’t you have a slice of cake?
I know it’s not quite what I make.
No,just plain bread,sweet Mary said
She then turned very red.
Mary,you look very hot
Is it healthy in this spot.
The central heating is too high…
She gave a weary sigh.
They drank their coffee and made jokes
About old folk who never spoke…
They bought some fresh fish for Emile..
They alway shop with zeal.
..
When they got home.Stan dialled Dave
Who told him he was very brave
and not to stand near a bus door…
Or he’d fall on the floor.
.
Oh,how i’d like to lie down there
With my mistress Annie fair.
but Mary is at home today
So i’ll just have to pray.
If you’re in pain and can’t have tests
They say that prayer is second best
Morphine is so hard to get…
and it makes me feel sick.
So tomorrow Mary works
Stan and Annie have their perks
Dave calls round to bath the cat…
How very odd is that?
If you would like your cat washed
Or if your shopping has got squashed
Just dial 99999
The service is divine!
Far in the distance voices are calling out her name.
Grown weary of winter, she hears them exclaim,
"Spring, please come early and rid us of the cold.
We long to feel sunshine's touch in rays of gold!"
She smiles, knowing that she's been sorely missed,
then softly sighs as if by a lover she'd been kissed.
It's time for her to rise, better to be early than late
when summoned not by a clock or a calendar date.
Spring's fingers will melt the last crystals of snow.
Soon, peeking above ground, tulips begin to grow.
Trees welcome budding leaves and birds are singing.
It's the season of renewal and hope she's bringing.
With but a wisp of her breath, valleys become lush.
Gardens of colorful flowers painted with her brush.
Children excitedly run through fields with bare feet,
and bees drink nectar from each bloom they meet.
After months of deep sleep, it's time for her to ascend,
and engage Brother Winter over weather they contend.
She'll still his hand from blowing winds from the north,
and herald in a milder climate as she ventures forth.
Her dressing gown replaced with suitable work clothes,
she gets busy thawing streams that frigid winds froze.
Then, she'll sing with robins and dance with daffodils.
As Spring, it's her duty to restore life on verdant hills.
February 25, 2023 ~ In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Where's my keys, I'm late for work
They should be on that shelf
If you've moved them you're a jerk
I'll look for them myself
So...
I've turned the whole house upside down
And looked in Benji's bed
The pockets in my dressing gown
And under uncle Ted
Of course I've looked beside the phone
And what is that you ask
I don't appreciate your tone
They're not stuck up my... bum
I've moved the fridge and microwave
And lifted up the mat
I looked inside the oven too
I even shook the cat
I grabbed the dog and held him down
And gazed into his jaws
I even searched my underwear
And rummaged round in yours
Every time I make a plan
Something always wrecks it
It's like my keys have gone on strike
It must be down to brexit
So, fess up moron, where's my keys
It's gone beyond a joke
Was it just a drunken prank
Or were you high on coke
You must think I'm quite stupid
But you're the silly cow
I know you must have moved my keys
So give them back right now
So now we get the waterworks
Boo Hoo, I made you cry
Oh heck, I fear it might be time
To eat some humble pie
Haven't felt like such a burk
Since I was in my teens
I found out where my keys did lurk
They're right here in my jeans
When autumn’s breezes in celebration,
send colored parchments swirling, curling down;
my heart sings in humbled adoration,
as nature’s palette, dons new dressing gown.
As chill winds visit I crave my slumber;
all animals in deep hibernation,
have stored food to quell chilled winter’s hunger;
each one harbor’s his own needed ration.
Colored puzzle pieces, they dot the land,
to warm Gaia’s, soon hibernating breast.
Part of a higher, elaborate plan,
like humans, Earth needs, her deep, winter rest.
Soon icy stars will be filtering down from
periwinkle skies where snow clouds are hung.
11-13-19
Favourite Poem from November 2019 Poetry Contest
Julia Ward
On some bleak airfield on some Cambridge fen
(that awful winter – 'forty-seven, I think)
my mother, novice servicewoman then,
crossed parade-ground like a skating rink
to see the Christmas concert on the camp.
Inside, the nissen hut was black as ink
till airmen lit a feeble spirit lamp.
The snow was driving against one outer wall:
she calls to mind a smell of tents and damp
and stinging fingers, fresh from snowballs,
and gouts of steam, blown out in cloudy spurts
as people laughed. Then lights dimmed in the hall.
She now recalls a curious stab of hurt
to see the Italian janitor of the base
revealed onstage in P.O.W. shirt
when curtains opened. What had been a place
of uproar, now – faced by this threadbare clown –
had undergone some dreadful loss of face.
In dubbin make-up, N.A.A.F.I. dressing-gown,
as solemn as a high priest at the altar,
this patched-up Pagliacci, ear-flaps down,
sang ludicrously well. The keyboard faltered,
and stopped. The singer, weeping now, kept on,
quite heedless, as his clown's nose dripped tear-water.
There's something sacred in the humblest song
(with wretchedness wrought into lasting good
through alchemy of art) and, all along,
the watchers, to their horror, understood.
He sang so gorgeously of going home
because he knew full well he never would.
DEATHLY HUSH
There is a gasp
Then the audience fall silent,
Staring with disbelieving eyes.
This actor, who has ruled the stage for years,
Bringing laughter, wringing tears;
Winning awards along the way
For almost every film or play,
Has made them hold their breath before
But not just walking through the door.
Puzzled by the crowd’s reaction,
He hesitates for just a fraction.
The leading lady, with a frown,
Offers him her dressing gown.
And then he notices what’s wrong.
He’s forgotten to put his costume on.
10th May 2021
The Audience Falls Silent contest
Sponsor - Kai Michael |Neumann
It scares me going to the loo,
I know it’s something I must do,
go for a piddle or number two,
I know it’s just the same for you.
But the loo might be a monster’s lair,
lurking around just to scare.
If it had teeth I couldn’t bare
the fact that it might just be there.
What if the monster had two heads?
I’d have to hide under my bed.
From then on, I would always dread
and have to cross my legs instead.
The monster might try pull me down,
for then I would surely drown.
Thinking of it makes me frown,
especially in my dressing gown.
It might be as big as a tree,
heaven forbid, I’d have to flee.
That’s far too big don’t you agree,
I would never ever want to pee.
Oh someone, please, help me so
and tell the monster he must go.
‘though mother swears he will not show
if up to bed I shall tip toe!
A photon checked into a hotel,
a rather interesting sight.
It was asked "Do you have luggage?"
It said, "No, I'm travelling light."
When I'm at home I like to read books,
and relax in my dressing gown.
I'm reading a book about anti-gravity.
I just can't put it down.
Staying in shape is important,
of that there is no doubt.
I keep trying to exercise
but it just isn't working out.
My friend fell into an upholstery machine -
one of the strangest things I've ever seen.
Everyone was shocked and exclaimed "Wow!",
but I can say he's fully recovered now.
Mathematicians are so smart.
Their work is often stunning.
But to the guy who invented zero,
thanks for absolutely nothing!
There was a WWI soldier
whose name was Bobby Pederson.
He survived both mustard gas and pepper spray.
He was a seasoned veteran.
Computer scientists are brilliant,
I must admit.
How much do they like 0 and 1?
Quite a bit.