Long Foils Poems
Long Foils Poems. Below are the most popular long Foils by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Foils poems by poem length and keyword.
That was an extraordinary Christmas for Santa Claus,
his twentyfifth year of wintry journey without any pause.
He decided to make it a special celebration of gifting on his part
to the children adorably unique presents, he’d carry in the cart.
In colorful foils he packed with care the gifts through the night,
loaded them on the sleigh until the dawn’s first sunlight.
As on downy snow-laid track the reindeer led by Rudolf charged,
the chilling wind hit his face, made him aware he was so tired.
He spotted a bench under a tree while crossing the sunny park,
thought he deserved some rest after the night’s hard work.
He knew he would find ahead no other better place to choose,
so, he slumped on the bench, and soon slipped into snooze.
Rudolph heard loud sound, didn't know it was Nick's snoring bout,
got scared of the danger looming large, she had no doubt.
With loaded sleigh the reindeer ran away as fast they could,
leaving tired Santa to enjoy the frozen sleep in the wood.
At sharp sound of cracking trees under the burden of snow,
when he woke up fazed, reality to his senses came a bit slow.
On the trail engraved in snow he ran, caught the fleeing reindeer.
He was sure when he gave the gifts, him the children would endear.
December 17, 2018
Contest : Christmas Cheer
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues
Has life ever been cheaper,
When doubting God grows steeper?
Love without justice perverts.
Justice sans morals subverts.
Despite the evil scheming,
God's spiritual streaming.
Doubt your doubts about the Lord.
Confessing them brings reward.
His past acts need reflection.
Remembrance foils defection.
His Providence revealing,
God's spiritual streaming.
So, wait for the end of it-
His faithfulness will acquit.
Remember, He's powerful,
Gathering up baskets full,
After thousands done feeding,
God's spiritual streaming.
Let the fools think they have won,
When God has only begun.
The wicked need to think twice,
Boasting about our demise.
Trusting Him is redeeming,
God's spiritual streaming.
When all has been said and done,
The Warrior-God, His Son,
Fulfills the Davidic reign,
And godliness is great gain.
All bow the knee esteeming,
God's spiritual streaming.
7/13/21
Truth is I must just say it
Because I've been feeling frustrated
People and animals tortured and subjugated
Over something "sacred"
Or from humans being dumb while full of nothing but hatred
In a world infatuated with money, sex and oil
Endlessly I toil
Because what I do foils
My success, even when I get the spoils
Been a life of turmoil
So arrogant and disloyal
Yet so proud to call themselves royal
Seeing it from all angles like gargoyle(s)
It's all starting to make my blood boil
Near venomous snakes in a coil
Atop freshly spread soil
Might've happened in your dreams
In reality it's not always what it seems
Of what you saw on T.V. screens
As well as behind the scenes
Yet it also could've gone better than expected
Taking a turn in a different direction
While teaching you a lesson
When you were feeling disrespected
Neglected
And rejected
The outcome may or may not have been effective
Causing zero or a a change in perspective
While doing nada or working towards a peculiar objective
All the while knowing, it's not all truly cemented
Here one minute gone the next second
Have good intentions
Regardless of it not always being accepted
And others showing aggression
Stay sharp and protected
In a place that can be demented
Help was or was not requested
Folks quick to play detective
The culprit did or did not get caught and arrested
The chill in the air signals that winter is upon us now,
We begin to see decorations and familiar holly boughs,
Shops fill with treats, something for everyone we love,
Still keeping in mind, this is a celebration for God above.
Our tiny village has the manger scene in the center of town,
The Christmas lights twinkle and the yellow star shines down,
Silent Night and other Christmas carols are the familiar sound,
Children laughing, all the glad tidings and good cheer abound.
Christmas trees are cut and decorated both inside and out,
Santa Claus is surely coming, for that there is little doubt,
Gifts are wrapped and laid underneath the Christmas tree,
Gorgeous foils and velvet ribbons don the gifts for all to see.
In early December, the volunteer fire fighters have a parade,
Christmas is the only time when each street has a barricade,
Once Santa arrives on his red sleigh pulled by his reindeer,
The children run to sit on Santa’s lap, so sweet and quite sincere.
As every day passes the anticipation of Christmas begins to rise,
Stories are told of the birth Christ and the three men so wise,
There is an unspoken balance of religion, tradition and folklore,
Whether caroling or singing in church, it makes our spirits soar.
At one time Christmas meant family, all seated around the table to eat,
But as time passes, loved ones die, now there is many an empty seat.
So new traditions must be made as we evolve holding our ideals intact,
We cherish our time together celebrating Christmas, each year not exact
Its still Christmas magic, that feeling of kindness, giving and love,
Grown from our icons of Christmas, the traditions that fit us like a glove,
While the people may change, the program continues each and every year,
For the celebration of Christ’s birth, in each of our hearts, it remains dear.
Written July 26, 2012
For Gail Doyle's contest
Christmas in July, Christmas Magic
We are the sum of all say I, that intertwines our souls,
Accepting life, as we do take, the toils, and spoils, and goals.
These toils taught, we all must learn, as futures to provide,
To all our young, for everyone, their lives we help decide.
Decisions made, some with haste, and problems do occur,
Perhaps be wrong, perhaps be right, for all, we must endure.
Endurance is strength, and carries through, all of us with time,
Months will pass, the days are endless, but light will eventually shine.
As with all, this life we lead, we’re blocked as we do travel,
The wall before us, can be passed, through hidden doors unraveled,
Clues abound before our eyes, clearest of thought will unveil,
The time to be told we will not know, until wind grasps our sail.
Pushing forward through this life, with all its toils and spoils,
We gather strength every day, knowing of its foils,
But family sees, family knows, family cares and waits,
Our family is the sum, of all that we are made.
Beyond the trembly weald to glassy glane
beneath the wooden breath where thoughts remain
'twas a harkened land called Wordingtane.
The Wizard of Words ruled this land
in grips vernacular he had sturly hand, gimbly grand.
None in Wordingtane fair match for him
he needn't fiat, he could whim
his ekel pronouncements in spelling fusion
for peasants quiet conclusion.
Speaking by riddles it's easy to say,
save a fool, the perfect way.
Long swiffen over time to mumbly masses
in rhyme, it nestled in just fine.
Amber all who would argue
fribbled and frambled tied up
and scrambled, brains rambled,
fell off trillig tracks while
simpering sloggers couldn't get back.
The Riddler tacked to try who came
from afar he posed an answer assert
that vored in abyss and he lost his head.
"No place for his hat", the Wizard said,
"That was that", the crowd anored
in callactic dord their cries flayed
and all obeyed.
Then the Fiddler spun his music trick
and the Wizard metered in time,
felled him with a trocken rhyme.
Then proclaimed the silly Fool
entered his aclaim so tangled a wordmess
he'd profess, using words unheard,
the Wizard unslurred, spinning in a web.
So rilly and rich the "Wiz" confused began
a twitch to twitch he did till flabbergast
through the night till morning past.
Whence he fell asleep at foolish feet
with his verily own vorpal blade in hand
the Wizard's head, in a wreck left his neck,
and the fool would rule in grim humor
this land to tell so trundly true,
the end 'twas justine jewel.
Now the sky is bright, land just right,
'tis the wave whilst the Fool did fight
and twisted foils stretched in hand
he won his refrain, startling reign.
Did I ever know that I would be born?
Did I decide my psyche and physique?
Why is a rose shielded by a sharp thorn?
Providence creates each creature unique.
I think of building a castle for me.
I end up assembling a thatched hut.
When I, like a sparrow, wish to be free
An unknown force, from within, keeps me shut.
Untimely rain signs on the summer breeze
Floods and droughts play tragedies unannounced.
Earthquakes shake the inmost shrines of the seas.
Divine verdict is wordlessly pronounced.
Events, like gift foils, wrap my existence.
Existence, in turn, is wrapped by Providence.
We have been up, down, sideways and phased
displaced by lonely nights aimed to raise
shunning suns of spun solitary pains.
Numerous strains of darkness dispensed from
fights ceaselessly warn my stuporous heart
that wrongs now death drag the good our love had.
Whenever the quiet is still
and I’m alone with silence,
I ache for an easing of our pain,
seek release of our twin aches
and pray a deep heart speak begins
to end our souls’ toils in foils opaque.
Whenever life is in motion
and time moves thru feels stolen,
I feel like a mockery as your wife,
as an anomaly to your true self
and my spirit sits with matrimony
fears and loneliness rife striped with limits.
I am good enough to live harmoniously as me
but I am an awkward bluff in this union of us.
I wish to no longer cry into tear damp pillows
while gaps clamp me to our shared bed’s edge.
Let our hearts stretch towards our once best middle
to find bye's that spare love further death dwindle.
... CayCay
August 24, 2019
The psychedelic oranges and greens of the seventies
Brought scads of foils and flocks into homes that had been
Saturated before with flowered, and vined wall papers.
Nehru jackets, hippies, flower children, and Viet Nam soldiers
Permeated the news, saturating our breakfast newspapers.
Colored TV is exciting, but worth the extra expense? Not sure.
Children are joining communes, making new families.
Questioning their parents, their politicians, and the war.
A war which the young soldiers are not allowed to question.
Religion is losing her grip on the family.
Sex is no longer blatantly reserved for marriage.
A revolutionary time brought about on the heels of hero assassinations.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and the Kennedy boys glancing down
From their heavenly seats, wondering what is to become of us.
I wish I could say things got better….
Every thought
I had fought
Is like each single
I've ever mingle
As each cough
has been so tough
To cope
with when thinking of hope
But it is true,
no one wish for blue
Yet in the end,
everyone becomes your friend
When the plans
elongate your spans
That you sing
for joy like a king
No one will see
to the drowning sea
You had sailed
through lonely veiled
In coils
of trouble projecting foils
Which beautify
what memories testify
No one shingles
my thought in reggae with jingles
Like Deborah
whose voice is auroral
And can make florals oral
when in quarrel
With the breeze
to seize atmospheric freeze
To ease
humans of an appealing sneeze
And set all free
with her divine decree
But be it as it may
On this soil, I am still enjoying each day
Though it is certain
No one can hold forever detained
On this soil with his oil
Beyond liquidation of its spoil
One day, I will travel
To the land of gold to unravel
Eon; ever new Jerusalem
And stopped the earthly pendulum
So do everyone
Be prepared
Like a soldier without gun
That never have the loss declared