Long Freshen up Poems

Long Freshen up Poems. Below are the most popular long Freshen up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Freshen up poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member A Passion

Two A.M. mother nature's alarm clock goes off
Quickly to the nursery to see that diapers soft
Touch his little bottom that is  very clean
This little baby would never be treated mean

Five A.M. to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast feast
Hoping they will enjoy eggs, biscuits, and chopped beef
Six A.M. bath time  for the baby boy
He will enjoy playing with his rubber toy

Seven A.M. arrange fresh flowers
Give instructions to the maid, figure hours
She is paid, write her check and letters
While listening to the intercom for any tiny stirs

Time to play with baby and take him for a stroll
Back in time to freshen up for lunch  is baked sole
But little baby boy back into his bed
He will need a nap to rest his little head

The house needs some extra touches
For tonight we entertain guests the Cliches
Hope that our homes is a perfect place
Our rooms will enough space

The baby boy is now awake I need to play
With him for heavens sake
Go away cobbwebbs, Go away
For baby boys don't have time to wait
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Love At First Sight

I enter the room breathlessly,
Somehow anticipating that tonight will change everything.
I sit quietly among strangers lost in their own worlds.
Cell phones buzzing, coffee steaming.

We all glance at watches,
Even some that aren't wearing any.
The air is electric as everyone is keenly aware
That tonight has the power to change the world.

I know that my love has not arrived yet,
Although I have never met or talked to him before.
A tired looking woman beckons me from the back room
And robotically I answer her call.

And in another room full of people and chaos,
I immediately see HIM.
He is perfect, though not at all what I expected.
Our eyes lock briefly, I smile and wave.

I'm wishing I had a mirror and had taken the time to "freshen up."
Other women in the room are as obsessed with him as I am.
I grab the barrette from my hair,
And like every ingenue I've ever seen on TV, I shake loose my curls coquettishly.

I think I have caught his eye, but suddenly his entourage rushes him from the room.
My heart slows a bit and I feel the color draining from my face.
Someone is holding my arm, sensing my weakness.
"He'll be back in a minute, why don't you sit down?"

I sit and for the first time, I notice HER.
Glowing, happy, giggling . . . the center of everyone's attention.
And the game just became REAL!
For it is she who stole my last love.

We make small talk, pretending no animosity exists.
Until a door opens, and HE is back.
New clothes, blue to match his eyes,
And I can't keep a little gasp from escaping my lips.

Of course, he flies right into the arms of my nemesis.
I move in, touching his arm, briefly holding his hand.
Even brazenly stroking his dark curls when SHE looks away.
And I see him respond -- glances in my direction, guarded smiles.

I am lost in a world where only he and I exist.
The room and everyone in it disappears and the two of us are floating away.
Without warning, I realize she must have seen our exchange.
And the room and everyone in it comes back into focus.

I look at my nemesis. She looks back at me.
"Would you like to hold him?" she says, seemingly without guile.
I cannot help myself. "YES!" I say, a little too quickly and loudly.
Unselfishly, my daughter-in-law gives him up. At last, my newborn grandson and I can start our love story.

7/14/2015

To the Sea

A white plastic bag flapping on a stark tree
acts as a windsock if I needed one – I don’t.

The GPS guides my mind upon a flickering map
toward salt water
where silver fish are leaping into the cold air,
gulping at a low-hanging haze.
Still as stone is the marbled sky.

I have yet to arrive,
the shore is bereft of place and time yet.
We will all freshen up later.

Until I am there
I travel incognito using a name
I once found in a book of minor sorrows.

My niggling fret this day is a longing for the sea
here in the middle of a prairie
where buffalo slowly much the miles ahead.

The rolling rubber is impatiently whirring,
pining out here, speeding over dry dinosaur bones.

Five hundred aqueous daydreams ahead
a shore fish-restaurant is already
opening its doors.

Nature's Gift

Wind, come surround me with your timeless gust.
Freshen up my numb body so I can move again

Sun, direct your rays to unfreeze my brain.
Lighten up my clouded mind so I can be reasonable again

Moon, sparkle my nights along with the stars.
Shine through my darkest hours so I fear no more again

Water, splash me with your ever cleansing power.
Wash off doubts in my soul so I can trust myself again

Fire, warm me with your burning flame.
Melt the madness so I can cry tears of joy this time

Rain, drop less than usual on my way.
Sprinkle me lightly please so I can have myself space and time

When night is over, another day to conquer.
And it goes on and on all the time.

Premium Member To Family

To Family
(Mable & Warren)
By Franklin Price
6/1/2015

To family we bid adieu
You visited a day or two
In the car and on the road
Have left our welcoming abode

You travel now to sister's house
To visit her and long time spouse
A quick stop there and on you go
To a destination you well know

A place where happiness is found
Where friends and family abound
Where hustle bustle has no say
Where relaxation is the way

I'm happy that you have that place
That puts a smile upon your face
Provides you with a place of Zen
To freshen up your lives again

Until we see you when we do
The best of health and times to you
Look for the best in every day
That's really all I have to say
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Chopped Iii - Humor

i narrate me own story in a fake english accent. the bloody typewriter is 
broken, it can't capitalize. i'm out of coins for the heater. i can see me own 
breath. it must be really bad . it's summer here in london. i'm a tough guy who 
carries a gun. don't mean i don't want to look good. i freshen up my lipstick,
light up a cigarette and offer one to my secretary. she is hot really hot.
like i said it's summer. she don't wear lipstick it wouldn't help. in the 
encyclopedia under the word butch is her picture. 

i put out my cig in an ashtray overflowin. i'd tell her to empty it but she scares me. 
she only wears one gold earring. who does that? i'm workin on a case, already 
drank half the beers. by the way i'm a dick a private dick. the name is rock,
rock hard. there's a knock at the door. this could be bad she has two fourty fives, 
she's also got a gun. 

she's holding an airline ticket. no reason. she says she just likes it. 
whatever! maybe it has to do with some kind of contest. 
she says we're going for a ride. we are driving when she gets a flat.

i pump she pumps then we get out  of the car and fix the flat. never liked 
cars, horses are more convenient. less breakdowns. she takes us to a 
party everyone is jumpin for joy, so joy gets up and leaves. bet you wish 
this was going somewhere. it's not. like i said i'm a dick.


11~28~2014
Contest: Chopped III
Sponsor: craig cornish
Form: Narrative

Pocket Stuff

I often fill my pockets up 
With all sorts of stuff 
From breath mints to deodorant 
When there's a need to freshen up 

Along with a dime or two 
For those important calls 
When I need directions 
For the times that I am lost 

My favorite flavor of chewing gum 
Double the pleasure, Double Mint 
Which most times slides from the wrapper 
Where I just kindly brush the lint 

Undoubtedly as always 
There's a few string clingers on 
Which in wisdom I save for later 
For that urgent urge to floss

One or two pet rocks 
That along the road I found 
I just put this part in 
To give you something to think about 

I sometimes put my hands in my pockets
Though there's barely any room 
Still a hand sometimes need a rest 
If it's got nothing to do 

It's little wonder I fill them up 
With all sorts of stuff  
Cause don't cha know when it comes to stuff
You can never have enough

Grandiose Ideas

In the middle of the night
When I can’t get back to sleep
All these grandiose ideas
In my wired brain do creep.

I will clean out all my closets.
I will rearrange each drawer.
I will freshen up the furniture
And spiff up the décor.

I will organize my poetry
To fit into a book
And the children’s tale I’ve started
Will get more than just a look.

I will sit and read the travel guides
I’ve purchased for a trip.
I will self-impose some discipline
And really crack the whip

In the morning, though, reality
Comes crashing with a thwack.
The enthusiasm 2 a.m.
Inspires won’t come back.
Form: Rhyme

Coffee Spirit

What!
Coffee can is empty
He saw in the bin

Earlier,
It's aroma diffuses around the room
Awake, but right on bed he rests
So, it soothes.

Early in the morning
He likes to taste
Inspiration flows afterward

He thought:
My coffee am sure is waiting for zips
Activates the body and re-awakens the memory

Fingers grip the pen and write tirelessly
He chuckles
As the sweet smell of the coffee continues...

He could hear the clinging of wares from the kitchen
Baby is ready for school, he guessed
And coffee is there in the kettle
He smiles

Rhythmically,
He walks and whistle to bath
Freshen up then straight to dine

Alas!
Noodle past garnished with 
chillies and shrimps in plate

Why?
Coffee cup is deprived of content
He gazed

So,
...She drank the coffee he smelled
She would be inspired instead
He thought.

Oh!
What a regret
He thought of coffee.

Atta-Gal I'm your Man tonight

The perfect indication
a smirk, with some flirtation
a special night
for dating
do you wanna dance with me

Suggestive comments got me thinking
that atta-bouis
and all that winking
laning on me
got me thinking
you wanna dance with me

aint got the right stuff for staying
work in the morning my Boss aint
playing
But you got me wanting
some forward thinking
the night aint through
when the band finishes playing

I got a kiss
after a whisper
the gentlemen said
she called me her Mister
Right night
the romance of the mmusic
dancing
smiling and grooving
what a night
what a romantic evening
got a foolish man
beleiving
take my time
clm all the feelings
freshen up for a specail evening
Form: Ballade

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace