Long Fretted Poems
Long Fretted Poems. Below are the most popular long Fretted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fretted poems by poem length and keyword.
A Story from My Heart
Kelly was a Red Tabby and a contemplative soul!Elena, my daughter used to put him in her doll buggy and walk him around the house. How he loved those rides!
History. I found Kelly near Chinatown in San Francisco, on a busy street in a teeny garden bed. Noisy cable cars, passing by!
I picked him up and went to apartments, nearby. Nobody was the owner! So I hailed a cab and took him home.
Back then, nobody fretted over cat diseases or wondered, if a cat was neutered
I just brought him home to my Calico, Luvey!
My cats had to be calicos or red tabbies only. My present feine is Irene, also a Calico. Our feral outdoors cat is a Calico.
Luvey accepted Kelly instantaneously, like a part of the family.
They were like sister and brother. We took him to the vet, had him fixed. He died from Kidney disease, he had to be put down.I laid on the floor in the vet lobby and had a tantrum, like a kid! I was so attached to that guy. He was in
misery the last few weeks of his loving life.
The Calico, Luvey, outlived him. Sle got to age 25! That one fell out of a three story window..I found her in the morning. She was limping, that’s all. I
told my fiancé, I wanted her checked out. So, took her in,
The vet showed me..ugh...she cracked her palate, which required surgery, and after that, they could not wake her! I said, “I will come down and wake her!!l”
She was lying, almost dead in the bottom of the cage.
I opened the door and said my magic words ” Mommy is here!” She woke up
She lived to be twenty-five years old! Luvey had a heart attack while being examined for a bad cold. I sat in a room, and talked to that dead cat and sang to her for 45 minutes. Those were precious moments.
May she Rest In Peace! Luvey was a tiny cat. And my first. A boyfriend brought her to me. I said, “I don’t want a cat!!.
Hal said, “give her a try for one night!!
That transformed into 25 awesome years...
Addenda~ A Shining Memory
One Christmas, I walled Kelly down the long hall in our
apartment building...His leash was thick, forest green tinsel!
A most loving companion, beloved by all my neignors.
I still miss him, though decades have flown away!
5/10/2022
She met the “perfect man” for her,
All she’d ever dreamt of,
Strong, tall, with sex appeal,
This was the one she would love,
Cuddling when she needed a hug,
A rose to stroke all her ache,
This one “perfect man” was all she wanted,
This one was not a mistake,
So she moved on in with this one “perfect man”,
This one she wanted the most,
But fretted the day to invite the fam ‘round,
Fretted to reveal to the folks,
This one "perfect man" she loved more than herself,
Whose love was never in doubt,
Was the one “perfect woman” she’d grown up beside,
The only one who knew she’d come out.
“Hey, Guitar, you’re such a prima donna,
Always out the front of the stage,
Thinking you’re the biggest in the band,
With some drugged, delusional rage.”
“What’s that Drums? I can’t hear what you say,
Walk up here and tell me your woe.
Just walk over here, like other instruments do,
Anytime, during the show.”
“Yeah, whatever, I’m too important to move,
I’m better than a little fretted thing,
I am the beat, the tempo, leading the entire band,
And I own what the singer can sing.”
“You two, cut it out, neither of you are the real big thing,
You aren’t what the crowd wants to see,
We all know they come to hear my blues,
Hear me, the harmonica, play blues in key”.
The sky was draped in night’s black cloak,
With a sprinkle of white specks in bloom.
The yellow moon slipped into a gibbous cocoon,
As sunshine fretted in crescent-shaped kites.
But the streets today were painted in bright colours—
They cloaked the rainbow in a toga of envy.
Many danced and sang in melodious harmony,
Dressed like masquerades with neither masks nor veils.
The clouds were clear and gleamed with a faint glow,
Since the last drop of rain they’d stored was in October.
It was the music, played on hand-held instruments,
That shook off harmattan’s dryness from trees and grasses.
"This carnival is like no other,"
A lady in red and white whispered to her husband.
They, like many others, had traveled from far and wide,
To sway their hips and jiggle their feet to Motherland Africa.
The hordes of strange faces mingled with local ones—
Each year, new loves are sparked, and babies are born.
Many a mulatto grows with one half of their roots in photos,
Yet every year brings memories sweet and strong.
Xmas tide,
a time for familial gatherings,
The golden chain of friendship
…and companions
Sweet on each other,
parading arm in arm
Together to share a feast and gift giving
...Nativity scenes, red, gold, green
bells ringing
Garlands, wreaths, and holly
Holiday romance rekindles and
swindles kisses under a mistletoe
Lovers making love!
…A lonely time for others
She arrives solo, one link’s absence sears
her heart yet another year
Smiles seem forced they’ll think
…Cry out the hosts,
Drink up, plenty of champaign !
Chums come and go quickly
Good to flatter one in a funk or ho-hum
The dinner is served, everyone rejoices
Mingles and reacquaint
Toasts and jingles can’t take her gaze away
True feelings are hidden
Like a disconsolate widow,
mournfully she yearns for him
Not a soul to tell, nor a cherished confidant
to share a secret or a private matter
Of the sensuality of karma sutra wooing her gently
Mesmerizing thoughts of a distant lover
have taken her far from the celebration
…His sultry eyes, savory lips
Sleekly sinewed neck, and bulging biceps
Quite an exquisite exhibition
Into his warm embrace and into subservience
Draped in satin, his fingertips tracing her curves
duplicating guitar intonation on his
gears, depressing down fretted notes
Making sultry harmonic tunes
Counting down at the twelfth fretboard
Lusty lullabies erogenous, with more alibies,
Keeps silent not to arouse suspicions of
an affair's existence that shouldn’t be
She counts down the twelve days of Xmas tide
her yearning entails
love is starved at Xmas tide~
he plays keep away
Life lies before me like a sky washed sea
Ever swelling waves, following one after another
Moments gather, experiences that surge upon me
Play hide and seek; me and my dreams together
walk side by side, looking up at the sky
Where rain clouds resemble mountain peaks
A lonely white heron silhouetted, soaring high and high
Pierces the pall of gloom, letting out sunstreaks
Everything seems so real; the moments, the dreams
Though I know I must dwell in there
Where the withered reality tree smothers and gleams
Submerging into an obnoxious time-mine, the layers
Of which are fretted with choleric roots and gloomy stones.
It's life real; stripped of all imagination
(Which makes perfumed gardens with heavenly roses grown)
No, the bubble bursts, it's all perturbation
Around me everyone wears a mask, bereft of blood
The well-groomed mannequins, the pre-programmed ones
well fitted to the ways of the world, they flood
The streets, the highrises, the parks; while the swans
The immortal swans on whose wings the clouds reel
The odious 'real' world lags far behind, with its heart of steel
I soar up, catch up with the swans, and I peel
My mask of complacency, and shout in the sky what I feel.
A scratching at dusty glass from piano keys
In a lace attic catacombs chests
bathed in blue panic
room stained window
Hiding from the tell to show
away bitter clown faces without
makeup to disguise frowns
from smiles
Glass of Rose wine in hand
Half black and white
harlequim dress worn
like princess Di
Bitting down on fretted untuned
strings
Yellow taxi clock running outside
in a traffic jam carpark
Great expectations Dickensian
clambering down unsteady
unsafe ladders
Floor by floor at breakneck speed
scissors running in hand
Final destination paused
Star's
City , Sparks , Fire
Takes me back melancholic
reminding me what it was
like to be a torturous teen
Dreaming of wanton love
and how fragile youth is
If you could relive one day of your life..
time lost, now retrieved for just a short while.
To thrust old scheming machinations knife,
or return healing to a lover's smile.
Such a fretted frittering those lost days,
though ones you and I will remember most.
Passions reared high in servile dewy haze..
soft breathe warm against skin from dearest host.
Moment waits untended a dreamer's call,
something I can never give you again.
Bodice caught on nail of new lover's wall,
though we may choose to return now and then.
Tarried too long look'g to horizon's edge..
promised heart unharmed, now pulled from a ledge.
Memories are fickle things
They seem to love to torture
When you desperately just want to forget
Seems memory's fruitage is an orchard
They can seemingly come from anywhere
But they don't need to be regretted
They should still be remembered fondly
Not bemoaned, erased, or fretted
Because if memories were cheating
No one could be loyal
Just because something comes to mind
Doesn't mean your love is foiled
You can smell a smell or see a sight
Even hear a familiar tune
But none of thats a problem
Because he will still love you
So don't hate yourself for your memories
Your love's no passing fad
You can still be loyal to each other
And be grateful for what we had
Midnight Lullaby
by Michael R. Burch
I.
A measureless rhythm rules the night—
few have heard it,
but I have shared it,
and its secret is mine.
To put it into words
is as to extract the sweetness from honey
and must be done as gently
as a butterfly cleans its wings.
But when it is captured, it is gone again;
its usefulness is only
that it lulls to sleep.
II.
So sleep, my love, to the cadence of night,
to the moans of the moonlit hills'
bass chorus of frogs, while the deep valleys fill
with the nightjar’s shrill, cryptic trills.
But I will not sleep this night, nor any …
how can I—when my dreams
are always of your perfect face
ringed by soft whorls of fretted lace,
framed by your tear-drenched pillowcase?
"Midnight Lullaby" has been set to music by the award-winning New Zealand composer David Hamilton.
Bashed by Basho
by Michael R. Burch
He came to me like an early birdie
and said, “My, my, you are REALLY wordy!”
Keywords/Tags: lullaby, lullabies, music, musical, song, child, children, childhood, baby, babies, midnight, night, rhythm, sleep