Long Flirt Poems
Long Flirt Poems. Below are the most popular long Flirt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flirt poems by poem length and keyword.
Questioning eyes, see through paper-thin lies,
igniting fear as flames erupt inside.
And devastated, she breaks down and cries,
trying to salvage what's left of her pride.
She believed you both had found your soulmate:
not imagining either heart would stray.
Yet, she struggled with bouts of love and hate:
watching her forever dreams slip away.
There's no ignoring an innocent flirt:
it's the first crack in a relationship.
And the lies that accompany it, hurt:
causing the scales of happiness to tip.
Jealousy is an emotional trance
that snuffs the flickering flames of romance.
There's many things a fire can do
Can't list them all so here's a few
It starts out small and then grows big
Begins with just a spark and twig
Amazed by the fires graceful dance
Flames dancing with such elegance
Embers fade into the dark night
So fearless and ready to fight
Fire symbolizes a rebirth
It will help you find your true worth
Fire represents your power, too
Rising from the ashes anew
A fire can warm up your cold toes
Or burn up tall trees by the groves
The flames dance and flitter about
Trying so hard not to go out
With a fire you should never flirt
If you do, you'll surely get hurt
When using fire, please use great care
Fire is danger, so please beware
Time is my friend not yours,
So don’t try to take him away from me.
He’s my best friend not yours.
You can’t have him. He’s my friend.
Oh and don’t try to flirt with him it won’t work,
Because he is my friend not yours.
You always try flirting with my friends but not this time.
Because Time is my friend.
Oh don’t try to sweet talk him either.
It will never work because he’s mine.
You are such a fake. I’ll tell him about you.
Because Time is my friend.
Yeah and don’t put that red dress on. It won’t do any good,
He only likes how I look. Not you.
So go away because Time is my friend not yours.
We love each other forever because Time is mine.
You have nice breasts, just from working out.
I know
Hes complimenting me
Flirting
As I wiggle into the dress.
I flirt back
Whats the harm
As I ponder
Does he think I want bigger breasts?
Do i?
I try to explain the difference between what I am doing and drag.
He doesn’t hear
He doesn’t care
Skin and pretty flesh
Read the same when you don't
Really look
These things
That matter so much inside me
That cause me to vibrate and cry and shake
They don't exist to him.
I am so new to this
And already tired.
Im at my favorite cafe
And a woman comes up
And tells me she loves my style
That I look comfortable and elegant
And she loves the way my necklace goes with my shawl.
Is she flirting?
Trying to make me feel safe?
Did I come here for that?
I spent my first summer in Portland
Finding my look
Im still hoping
To be found.
Floating between states
Looking for myself in the words
Of others.
predictable pairing
like plans and lovers
two sparrows fly, flirt
wing beats hyped
to dull the scent of overcrowded news
in spring air, grinning
scrappy species
two birds that pitch and swoop
an operatic flow
their sheen of relatability
braided together
a courtship gallantry
in circled bolts
when two birds fly about you
suspenseful joy
like an untroubled sigh
re-directing thought
seasonal movement
a flight of promise
that opens to the sky
Abide pure sight of surreal streams,
Incite fond feel to know fine taste;
Rich sensuous light that flirt with dreams,
Yield bright goodwill that charms due haste.
Come to know truth in vibrant ways,
Observe the zest in brilliant fest;
Meet ample proof with tints that stay,
Flood happy jest with wonder's best;
Oblige the mood that flames sure thrills,
Rush of cool air brings comfort here;
Treat all things good with grand appeal.
Note how time flings due happy cheer,
Observe the path with savvy wares,
Work sure enough life's joyful fare.
Leon Enriquez
25 May 2016
Singapore
On a Sunday in the evening
The old barn becomes a hall
Social place where every weekend
The town folk go for a ball.
The inside is decorated
Lights are lit, the banners sway
By the walls barrels and cartwheels
Wooden stools and bales of hay.
Everybody loves a shindig
Where square dancing is the craze
Violins, guitars and banjos
Loud hillbilly music plays.
There’s a guy who’s always present
He’s the handsome Cowboy Kurt
On his head a leather Stetson
Dressed in jeans and chequered shirt.
Carol comes in golden pigtails
Gorgeous looking in flared skirt
She stands out; her smile is charming
She is hot and likes to flirt.
Cowboy Kurt looks quite appealing
He taps his feet to the beat
As other couples are reeling
Pretty Carol takes a seat.
Kurt decides to mosey on up
And lay his heart on the line
See if Carol would share some grub
Perhaps a swig of moonshine.
Tiny Carol surprises Kurt
Chugging down half a bottle
She eyes him coyly, looking pert
Then starts to jig full throttle.
Stunned Kurt is reeling to and fro
As wee Carol takes the lead
Dance floor clears; they put on a show
Kurt looks like a tumbleweed.
Music wouldn’t stop fast enough
For Kurt who couldn’t square dance
Carol is made of tougher stuff
And has high hopes for romance.
Totally lit and loving it
Carol trots to the outhouse
But when she returns, Kurt has split
“Where’s my man?” Carol does grouse
In his truck Kurt has hit the trail
Head still spinning from the dance
Carol sits upon a hay bale
Hoping he’ll return to prance
After the hoe down was over
Banjos and fiddles tucked away
Cowboy Kurt was still a rover
Out cold on the hay Carol lay.
------------------------------------------------------------
Written 6th October, 2014
A collaboration by Paul Callus and Carolyn Devonshire
In quest to find respite and solitude
I drift on the light of an amber sea
It's there I pray in words of gratitude
for a life that's blessed with serenity
Riding on waves where only peace prevails
gently lulled to sleep by swells as they crest
Tropic winds flirt with my billowing sails
I dream of feasting as Poseidon's guest
This peaceful voyage calms my heart and fears
Quiets the distress I've felt in the past
There's never a threat I will spill sad tears
while my anchor of burdens is not cast
I shall sail upon this sea in my heart
without the need for a compass or chart
~~~~~~~~~~~~
August 28th, 2016
Lips lustered with Venus-enchantment flirt as
Imagineer steers your swoon to the Moon on a love song..
Beyond oneness with another, the lover and artiste
Relishes color in counterpoise to white rising light, and so flows
Abstracts across a sunrise canvas to laud a treaty ‘tween night and day
Susan Ashley
April 8, 2021
*aesthete: a person who has a special appreciation of art and beauty.
*imagineer: a person who is skilled in implementing creative
ideas into practical form. A Blend of imagine and engineer.
Poet’s note: not for a contest but inspired by the “Star Sign Acrostics” poetry contest sponsored by Charlotte Puddifoot.. Thank you, Charlotte, for the wonderful inspiration. I’m sorry I missed out on entering your contest.
Mary, the daughter of some parental friends, is on her high-school-senior college-tour and my mom (on Face Time) told me their plans called for them to be in New Haven over the weekend.
“Would you mind taking an hour to give her a campus tour?”
I rolled my eyes saying, “I barely know the place myself.”
She waited silently with obvious, parental patience.
“I’ve got a TON of homework,” I pleaded.
“I’d owe you,” she said, encouragingly.
I sighed, struggling with my new and heavy burden, “ALL right,” I groaned.
Mary and I know each other from hospital events we couldn’t avoid (her dad is an emergency surgeon) but we’ve never hit it off.
I take some pride in being able to talk about anything - from football to politics or movies to fashion but Mary’s one and only interest is guys.
Mary’s one of those girls who HAS to have a boyfriend - like there’s a municipal ordinance requiring one - and just about any guy will do. She didn’t even have to particularly like them but they had to be Instagram pretty.
So any time I’d see her (we didn’t go to the same school) she’d have a Tom or Ed or Frank in tow, filling that boyfriend requirement and due to the high boyfriend turnover rate, she’d constantly and embarrassingly flirt with other potential boyfriends right in front of Mr. Now. It was enough to shame my gender.
A typical Mary conversation:
“Are you dating anyone?” She’d ask.
“No,” I’d admit.
“You’re just shy,” she’d say, “You just need to put yourself out there.”
She was positive and encouraging, even in the face of increased competition.
“I used to be shy,” she revealed. Which I doubted very much.
Anyway, once they (her Mom joined us) were certified vaccinated, we got a student volunteer for a real Yale tour. I love the “Harry Potter” look of old campus. (COVID restrictions limit where visitors can go).
I find I already have a sense of “ownership” here and I secretly hope she ends up somewhere else. I waved as they drove off, wishing her a bucket of instagram smiles.
.
Hmmm… maybe this sounds catty *shrug* - does this sound catty?