Long Dwarves Poems
Long Dwarves Poems. Below are the most popular long Dwarves by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dwarves poems by poem length and keyword.
Popping out of pictures, pulling swords from stone,
Hunting with your coon dogs, shipwrecked all alone,
Rafting down the river, whitewashing a fence,
Balloons on Krakatoa, leagues under suspense,
Milo and his watchdog, Charlie’s ticket’s gold,
Meg and Charles go tessering, Lost Boys, never old,
Wizards, dwarves, and hobbits, James’ giant fruit,
Wilbur, Fern, and Charlotte, Belle’s enchanted brute,
Heartbreak with a yearling, a big old yellow dog,
Friends Mole and Rat and Toad, islands, treasure, grog,
Gardens full of secrets, the clever family Swiss:
Glorious great stories, just too good to miss.
Books promote imagination, candy for the mind,
Afternoons spent on the page leave the world behind.
Reading with my grandkids, adventure tales galore,
And when they finish all of these, I know of plenty more.
Mom bought records of the classic Disney films; each song
was played again and then again; we all sang along.
Mad Hatter singing he was late, Snow White singing too,
and seven whistling dwarves kept us from feeling blue.
Yes, those were our “Wonder Years” with my family.
Also we watched musicals as re-runs on TV.
Fiddler on the Roof ; The Sound of Music - pure delight!
West Side Story thrilled me with “Maria” and “Tonight.”
I began collecting records; my first idol’s name
was Herman. With his Hermits, he enjoyed brief fame.
Older kids were listening to whatever gave a shock:
Dylan, Hendrix, Joplin, Stones, or psychedelic rock.
I preferred the “bubblegum” - Grass Roots, Tommy Roe,
and all the Top Forty Hits on my radio.
Also there were songs of novelty, a different sort,
“A Boy Named Sue” and that “Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport!”
Some songs linger with nostalgia: gems like “Close to You”
or “Johnny Angel.” Those recall special boys I knew.
In the 1970’s, it was clear I was
A fan of pop rock music, simply just because!
I love songs with beat that make me want to sing or dance,
but sometimes I’m inclined to hear soft songs of romance!
Though I'm busy now with many other things, I strive
to hear what’s new on TV music shows or when I drive.
But what’s the music of my soul? In all honesty,
I must say my early years most affected me!
Seven days and lonely at night
Was a Princess called Snow White
On her doorstep there was
Little guy dwarves
All different to view from sight
So on Monday night she did walk
To Dopey's bedroom for a talk
The conversation was slow
Up sticks did she go
At her topless body he did gawk
When Tuesday evening came around
She tiptoed without a sound
Beside bashful she sat
Blimey, not again, no chat
His eyes on me will never abound
Oh my! it's Wednesday again
Am I beautiful or just plain Jane
I better go to the Doc
Do I look good in this frock
Am I letting my shapely shapes wane
It's Thursday and I better nurse Sneezy
Whose chest has become rather wheezy
To him I won't kiss
No matter his wish
I have no desire to become queasy
Thankfully Friday has been reached
It's the weekend long lies are now preached
For Sleepy I'll never wake
No booty will he shake
My cheeks he'll never see peached
Saturday has finally come along
Even Grumpy now sings the same song
With a song and a cheer
Shared over a few beers
No chance you'll get into my thong
Have I saved Sunday to be the best
Is Happy better than the rest
His smile tells me so
For more than his cheeks glow
At last a loving grin at my breasts
Oh I need to be loved ever since
Like the weeks I had with my Prince
For many many nights
He knew to love me right
When I walked, you could see my legs wince
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-6.php
Once upon a time in the land of the Hobbits,
Fili was annoyed. He wanted excitement.
He was the youngest of the twelve dwarves,
Dressed in a blue cloak and sporting a yellow beard,
He entered into his tree house in an angry mood.
Up in the attic he sat on a stool and pondered.
That night all fairyland would celebrate
The great feast of Midsummer. And everyone
Would parade his oft practiced skills.
Alas Fili had nothing spectacular to show.
In the dim light of the attic he spied a shine.
Fili had the best eyesight and somehow knew
There below the cupboard lay an alexandrite lode.
It shone and magic oozed out of it.
What could it be? He grabbed it and saw
A parchment with strange signs he could not understand.
Yet in the bottom was written so very clear:
Use me to fly, turn, swirl, but you must
Understand the signs or suffer you will.
A Catherine wheel opened the feast lightning the glen.
Immediately thousands upon thousands of fireflies
Flew around and illuminated the open grassy space.
Elves brought in the beer, sweetmeats, firewater.
The Firstborns danced around the Maypole,
Frog dances abounded as elves escorted the Fairy Queen
To her elaborated decorative throne. She smiled
And after a while she clapped her hers, and amid the clapping
She gave the sign that the much sought contest can start.
To be continued
Once upon a time in faraway land,
There lived little Candy with dreams so grand;
She dreamt she was princess Cinderella,
Or sometimes became small Thumbelina;
One night, she danced with leprechauns and dwarves,
Sometimes wearing sombreros, sometimes scarves;
Her dreamy princess dress sparkled with gems,
As she glided around crystal items;
Once, when Candy was sleeping in the hall,
Dreaming of princes dancing at her ball;
In crept a wicked elf, he was so bad,
He loathed her smile and wished to make her sad;
He cast an evil spell on her nice dreams,
From then on, her laughter turned to mad screams;
She grew up day by day, afraid to sleep,
Recalling the dream world she could not keep;
Now, Candy was trapped in horrid nightmares,
The elf felt sordid pleasure in her scares;
Then one day, a beggar knocked on her door,
Candy was too kind to simply ignore;
She, though looking weary with sleepless eyes,
Fed him, who was a wizard in disguise;
The gentle wizard saw her deep sadness,
And asked her the reason of her distress;
She sighed and thought of all her lovely dreams,
"My dreams are lost", she cried, her tears in streams;
The wise wizard then saw the impish elf,
That guy had stolen his wand from his shelf;
Soon he was caught and the spell was broken,
Her fairytale dreams brought joy unspoken;
Candy jumped and danced, now that she could sleep,
She thanked the wizard, now she need not weep;
The elf had to serve the wizard for life,
That was his punishment for causing strife;
Little Candy got back her dreams and smile,
She'd be a princess again, for a while.
02/03/17
~Nazguls~
(Free Flow )
If ever there was a day
when the song of men
and Elves
were to disappear
From the face of Middle Earth
and the hearts and minds of
Elves Dwarves and men
it was at this time of sorrow
They were once
nine Kings who
were great and mighty
But then from the
Black shadows rose
Sauron and the power of the Ring
they wouldn't be able
to resist
So one by one
they were drawn to its power
and one by one
they fell
And now they ride
ceaselessly
searching for the
most Precious the Ring of Power
The one that their dark
Master wants it
just to possess it
to conquer and to smite with it.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2015
October.27.2016
Authors notes:
-From my very extensive poetry collection and poems inspired by the LOTR trilogy and the Hobbit books and movies by J.R.R. Tolkien.
THERE GOES THE LOOKING GLASS
There goes the looking glass
It's shattered and yet serene
The queen's out of business
The dwarves look really mean
There's snowy and a mountain
Yet the ride was really long
The apple and the eye drops
Were in tears that said belong
The house was simply empty
With no wolf no cubs and bare
With grandma in the oven and
The twin kids are always there
The live and love was never distant
Yet in the garden one was all alone
With crystal balls and constant calls
Always near and closer to a phone
A goose was gone by morning
And the eggs were in the fry
Yet gold and glean glistened
With an always simply in a try
Then the story turns to ashes
Yet a magic steals the shown
In a queen who saw a vision
Of just two or three to know
So, the capture for the moment
Is in a picture that's not a tale
In a fable that was not so funny
In an ending of a happy or a well
Yet it's jack be quick who listens
With all the candles and no flame
Simply for the reason in a many
Yet just two or three to name
The civilization of Egypt is a mystery,
But what I love the most is their incredible history,
It starts with Amun Ra, the god of sun;
Who was Khepri in the morning when he rolled in mud and had fun;
But he became Khnum the ram in the evening.
And this is just the beginning.
There was the god of wind- Shu,
Whose daughter was Nut, striped and blue,
She was the goddess of sky,
Whose love for Geb, the earth, would never die.
They had two sons, Set and Osiris,
And two daughters - Nephthys and Isis.
Osiris became the Pharaoh to solve his kingdom’s crisis,
And married his sister, Isis.
Set was the god of desert sand,
And chaos and Ra’s left hand.
Nephthys became the goddess of darkness, decay and death.
As the pharaoh’s protector, she killed his enemies with her fiery breathe;
Isis was very magical,
Who made Ra’s condition critical;
By creating Apophis a snake,
To defeat whom was not a piece of cake.
Horus was the son of Osiris and Isis
Meanwhile Nephthys and Set had a son Anubis.
Then there was Thoth who was a rage,
Among the Egyptians for being the God of knowledge.
Like Ra, there was also a god of moon,
Khonsu, who could delay the noon.
The scorpions had a goddess- Serqet,
While the vultures had Nekhbet,
The cats worshipped Bastet,
Meanwhile the lions had Sekhmet,
The frogs loved Heket,
While the hippos had Tawaret.
There were many Gods and Goddesses.
Like Gengen-Wer, Hapi, Sobek and Bes.
Of which, the dwarves loved Bes the best.
While Heket loved Onuris from the rest.
The geese loved Gengen-Wer.
And Horus became the God of war.
There are many, whom I don’t know,
Yet we feel their majestic halo.
-Ananya Mallik
Enchanted Norse the dark place of dwarves trickery leaving graveyard dark from gargano graves formed in to spear heads making witch ornaments with light bulbs filled with forbidden black sand smuggled from Maui candle wax to see if asiL will appear wearing feathers of ash smudging walls wailing clawing talisman voodoo charms the hidden agenda a family of fathers who fake their deaths to become the devil hiding in basements toying with goodness heaven closed the doors leaving Lisa lingering holding Mary Gargano hand weeping the agony watching evil plotted her song of sadness illuminates her feet covered in graveyard dirt a pet cemetery for humans unleashed the trickery lies in faking of death to impersonate the deceased identity fraud the covering of arson murder of 9 persons the twisted surges of negative energies graveyard dirt used in ritual sacrifices shuttering coven of asiL Marie Gargano wrath unfolds the pagen pilgrimage Norse meeting trolls dwarves meeting at memorial gardens entrance
Inhaling, hushed, from hashed cigars
my mind implodes in Malimar
where Naiads bathe in caviar -
I dream of dwarves and three-eyed tsars.
The captive kiss of Princess Mars
(who talks in tongues at seminars)
burns red beyond Her blue boudoir -
I writhe within Her pale peignoir.
Her Maids gloss lips with cinnabar,
bedizen cheeks in dusts that mar,
serve teas beside the reservoir -
I sip them from a samovar.
Disguised in smoke and lamps of spar
Her Genies gender gold dinars,
evoking flames in ginger jars -
I plea before the Commissar.
At Princess’ neighbourhood bazaar,
white shadows slip through doors ajar
to drape my dreams in ash and char -
I long await the Avatar.
Her Merchants (preening, proud Hussars)
paint pretty scenes on VCR’s
while sailing ships to Zanzibar -
I strum the strings of warped sitars.
Her Prophets sometimes cruise in cars
else while at each and every bar
to speak of space and time bizarre -
I pass my pride for small pourboires.
Her Necromancers trace in tar
tall tales of wisdom flung afar,
transported by the Registrars -
I hitchhike on their handlebars.
Her seers conjure repertoires
where She and I are on a par
in infinite surreal memoirs -
I sometimes sense the void is ours.
My Princess never sees the scars
cut by Her whispered “au revoirs” -
I often wake to ask ‘who are
these Gods that sail the distant stars?’