Long Dressings Poems
Long Dressings Poems. Below are the most popular long Dressings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dressings poems by poem length and keyword.
How can it be that autumn so soon again is stealthily approaching,
With its pleasing sounds, scents and varied hues steadily encroaching!
The bouquets of summer have faded and their petals they have shed,
Now, the maple and aspen assume their gorgeous robes of gold and red!
Anon, their bare limbs reaching for the heavens as if in supplication,
Will be adorned with garlands of snow to enhance their decoration.
The haunting honks of geese is heard as they flee the cold and snow,
Guided by The Master Compass from whence they come and whither they go!
Old Harvest Moon hanging from the ebony sky will emit its mellow glow,
Providing perfect ambiance for lovers strolling hand in hand below!
Happy revelers will enjoy hayrides, marshmallow and wiener roasts,
Lounging about glowing fires spinning tales of spooky goblins and ghosts!
Soon, hordes of pirates, witches and fairies will be prowling the streets,
And stopping by to make their annual plea for Halloween treats!
Thanksgiving Day is on the horizon, a day set aside for counting our blessings.
With tables laden with green bean casseroles and turkey and its dressings!
A special day to honor and thank our Valiant Veterans will also be observed,
And to remember and thank their supportive families for they also served.
I can say without hesitation that autumn is my favorite season of the year,
And since I am in the autumn of my years, I especially hold it dear!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
I try to make myself very scarce midst the teeming flock,
To reduce the risk of finding my neck on the chopping block!
Why do you put me through this annual frightful scare?
I pray that I won't become your Thanksgiving fare!
May I propose for your very careful consideration,
An assortment of options for your holiday celebration.
Have you considered a delicious rack of lamb,
Or a scrumptious glazed and juicy spiral ham!
You could save my friends and me so much grief,
If only you'd serve a luscious roast of beef!
As you thank the good Lord for your many blessings,
Wouldn't you prefer a goose stuffed with dressings!
An adjunct to your cranberry sauce and pecan pie,
Could be a savory duck - why not give that a try?
Another suggestion that would please your friends,
Would be to prepare a platter of Rock Cornish hens!
There are many creatures that swim, run or fly,
That could complement your taters and punkin pie!
Better yet, why not concoct a vegetarian meal,
Then, I could forego my urgent annual appeal!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in PD'S "Gobble, Gobble, Gobble" Contest - November 2011
These are the moments that stir our hearts
and make our spirits soar, like Phoenix's,
Doves and Condors, wearing the freedom
of the sky as a shawl.
The moments' corridors that remind us
of the closeted beauty that binds us, that we're here
to showcase down
the runway.
To set our apparel in it's halls and byways
(by the way) of Malls of shops and shelters and
abodes and day to day patterns of way.
Let us embrace them fully, let us revel in their grace,
in the gown of that embrace of swaddling nativity.
For in these simple wiles of life,
we find our truest fashion of place
and let them lighten and warm our days.
To change the garb when the world seems heavy, and joy seems far away.
Let us remember these breathable garments of interchangeability, and put on a new hat when the climate needs.
For in the subtle power of fitting choices,
we find the fabrics that fill our mold of
wearing the seasons mystery in the mime
of divine dressings, for the part in a royal wedding.
To face each new day with courage,
and to greet the dawn with hope's song of white linen
mouthing the atmosphere as signs in the jetstream.
So let us live each moment fully,
in the wonder of life's mystery,
and be grateful for each treasure,
in this journey's tapestry,
weaving us along it's strings of clothing.
The whispering tailor of Life-tugs at our seams,
at the shoreline, in tease - laundering,
a fresh scent on the cuff,
on the cusp of the designing,
our fashions' legs, hoods and sleeves,
of a blueprint style cloaked
by God's laundry list of Commandments
of care label instructionings.
I see..
You saunter lonely
At the far end of the
Flexuous narrow path
Vivacious breeze fly occasionally
Shaking white silken dress like a feather!
I heed
Silent wild flowers adorned
Vivid colorful dressings
And Smiled at you
Without giving even a slightest glance
You walk forward
I feel
You are wandering
No sense at all about your
Surroundings,
Somebody follow you
Looking and sensing
The charming movement …
I see
Tiny butterfly flying
Lonely sun bird winging
Without
Knowing the destination
To be reached..
I say
I am not a beseecher
“Wait a moment
Put a glance backward
To seethe
Codger, following you
Before disappear at the
Bend ahead”
Jayaratne Weerakkody
The closet, once crammed with the styles of youth,
holds not so much as a coat hanger.
Dents in the carpet are the only evidence
that a bed, dresser, and nightstand filled the room.
The frilly window dressings and wall art are gone. The truth
weighs heavily on my heart; my sense of loss is intense
as I gaze through tears at the emptiness.
Five years ago, just down the hall, I stood in a room
stripped bare of furniture, clothing, and all hints
of the masculinity that had thrived there. The gloom
set in as I visualized the weight-lifting equipment
and the “man cave” corner that was always messy.
I reminisced and pondered where the time went.
My sentiments may resonate with others
who revisit vacant spaces—the fathers and mothers
now categorized as empty-nesters, who must accept
the reality that vacant rooms are part of the
natural scheme of things; they are survivable.
Manifesting thee-
thou new December,
let joy and peace be
the last month's ember.
Glowing from the fire
of chances and luck,
taken as a trier,
by hearty risk, buck!
I lay dead alive,
in high anxiety,
on how to survive,
not by my piety.
One thing, I know of-
is my faith's prowess,
holding up above
emotional cuss.
That would sink grievance,
of chance not taken,
driving luck's deviance
to reawaken...
Good luck and fortune,
repairing this year
wornout misfortune,
not to reappear,
But bring on blessings...
meant for this year's grace,
out of gloom's dressings,
running out of chase.
Amen!
A ditty to my titty
There you are upon my chest
You used to be the boob I loved best
But now all you do is cause me grief
I just need a moments relief
But you would rather swell and cause me pain
Make my skin itch again and again
This journey so far , has been too long
I’m starting to think we don’t belong
To add insult to injury there’s a wound that won’t heal
I’m forced to wear dressings-I’m sick of this deal!
This wound has ruined nearly all of my bras
I think this issue has gone too far!!
Now my skin is attacking me
Itch itch scratch scratch
please just let me be!!
So here it is- a ditty to my titty
I beg you please- stop being so ty
Now listen up all ye poets out there
Here's an adage I try to live by
It seems to work for this old duffer
So why don't you give it a try
Upon waking up every morning
Before you jump out of bed
Count all your blessings one by one
Keep them stored inside your head
As each day presents its challenges
Remember your many blessings
Be thankful for all the little things
Enjoy life with all its dressings
Now it may not be totally foolproof
But at least you're on the right track
Trust me you'll be ahead of the game
And happiness you surely won't lack
So listen up all ye poets out there
Let me know how it all works out
I hope it's a positively roaring success
From the rooftops you'll want to shout!
@Jack Ellison 2012
A is for Avocado, the creamy, green nutritious fat.
B is for Berries, the fruit that keeps your tummy flat.
C is for Chia, most nutrient-dense of all the seeds.
D is for Dandelion - it's more than just a pesky weed!
E is for Eggs, the perfect snack to keep you lean.
F is for Flax - to sprinkle lightly on your greens.
G is for Ginger, the spice that fights off germs and soothes.
H is for Honey, nature's cure for the sweetest tooth.
I is for Iodine - from salt, it keeps your thyroid sound.
J is for Jalapeno, the red-hot kick to melt those pounds.
K is for Kale - to be lightly steamed without the stem.
L is for Lettuce, its popular and crunchy friend.
M is for Milk, for sparkling teeth and sturdy bones.
N is for Nuts - a handful and your tum won't groan.
O is for Oats, fiber-filled and gluten-free.
P is for Pistachios, sly cholesterol's enemy.
Q is for Quinoa, the complete protein that fills you up.
R is for Raisins - a ton of iron in a quarter cup.
S is for Salmon, the oily fish with omega-3.
T is for Tomatoes, nature's very own sunscreen!
U is for Udon, the pasta you can eat guilt-free
V is for Vinegar - it makes dressings low in calories.
W is for Water, which hydrates to de-bloat your gut.
X is for Xylocarp, a fancy term for coconut.
Y is for Yogurt, the probiotic masterpiece.
Z is for Zucchini, which lowers risk of heart disease.
Your body is a temple, I'm sure you've all been told,
So fill it up with healthy foods, and you'll grow young - not old!
(P.S. In case anyone doesn't know, "Quinoa" is pronounced "keen-wah")
For Cyndi's "Z is for Zaria" contest
Suicide Salads
I walk along the river banks
Whether is the raven’s moon
Or the midnight sun
Doesn’t change the dimensions
That here I walk alone
When I walk past the store
For Louane cher I open the door
Her smile is enticing, so sweet
My suicide will be the later treat
They will look inside my fridge
Lettuce and dressings
Encumbered by cucumbers both fresh and raw
The salad will proclaim life is tall
I went to the club, an all night affair
Danced with all the suicide dolls
They moved their feet, and seductive hips swagged
Sadly who cares my life is a drag
Secrets and salads
Suicide with a fine oiled dressing
Guess I shall miss the next wedding
When you all stare at my recent beheading
Head of lettuce
Death in a salad bowel
This world is a rabbit hole
Riddles and fiddles
Be this the death of me
I am the salad long set free
Notes: For some the world is a world of hope
Others a world of despair
These two abstract concepts always in battle
New and old
Happy and sad
Good and bad
The sadness creeps in
Youth brings back the smiles
Age the cry for peace
Even when this means
Taking ones last breath