Long Fuzzy Poems
Long Fuzzy Poems. Below are the most popular long Fuzzy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fuzzy poems by poem length and keyword.
Have you ever seen a grizzly... bare?
And told him to put on some clothes
I did that once, but it must have upset him
Because he reared back on his toes
Well this guy's no freaking big hero
So I started to take off like a shot
But before I could, he grabs me and says
“I'm your friend... like it or not!”
Mr. Grizzly must surely have noticed
Sweat pouring down from my brow
He started to laugh like big bears do
Scared the poop out of me... holy cow!
As he held me, I calmed down a little
He seemed like a right friendly chap
But those teeth of his were really big
He was drooling from his cavernous yap
All in all, seemed like a kindly old soul
Neither nasty, nor scary, nor mean
I asked if he'd like to come home for honey
But I insisted he wear some jeans
The reason is because of the wee kiddies
Not nice to go showing your parts
It's just a matter of common decency
Wanted to get that straight from the start
So off we go, Mr. Grizzly and me
I'm feeling warm and fuzzy all over
Another new friend to share some laughs
Along with my old dog Rover
©Jack Ellison 2012
By this river
Life runs wild;
Death passes over
~~~~~~~~~
Words meander
Fuzzy logic strays;
Encounters hurl
~~~~~~~~~
See mad dash
Poignant stillness;
Peace enters
~~~~~~~~~
Sanguine lady smiles
Poignant moment;
Wedded bliss
~~~~~~~~~
New born baby
Child of twin worlds;
Sleepy wonder
~~~~~~~~~
Bright baby face
Charming miracle;
Wonder glows
~~~~~~~~~
Promise of grace
Miracle wonder;
Future lives today
~~~~~~~~~
Sculpture in flesh
Breathing finesse;
Baby sighs takeover
~~~~~~~~~
Bright baby blooms
Rich rapture rooms;
Zest zooms
~~~~~~~~~
Sweet baby signals
Teary touch;
Proud parents sigh
~~~~~~~~~
Delivery dance
Bubbly glance;
Cheery chance
~~~~~~~~~
Dazzling dream
Sizzling streams;
Sighing smiles
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
12 March 2016
Singapore
In the early morning, as the sun yawns and lets out her first light ray
two fishermen walk through the flooded bushes, searching for fish.
Inside cooler waters a silent lake says, " Take your time, take your time"
The sun slow at it's highest point drips with gold and continues to splay
while fish with their caudal fins and tails, kick forward into refreshing waters,
enjoying cool oxygen moments of grace, before the water gets too hot.
"Take your time, take your time" says the dawn
pink and purple, saffron yellow, with a touch of golden mellow.
Two buddies side by side, just like Abbott and Costello
catching fish and then releasing, into the undulated waves.
The sound of a female duck quacking in the distance,
followed by six mallard duckling babies, dark chocolate brown
with fuzzy yellow tails, wagging happily;
They appear to be saying, " take your time, take your time"
In the noon day sun an open tackle box and an empty thermos.
A passerby says " caught any fish yet?"
the fisherman smiles, not yet, they are just taking their time.
At some point in a human's cycle of life,
the curse of fuzzy thinking appears.
They're stuck in their own point of view,
so they're ruled by their inner most fears.
A human being accepts change with difficulty,
for they remain set in ways of stone.
But the fluid river of endless change
leaves no mortal soul alone.
Each human body contains a heart
that beats to the tune of eternal hope.
To escape this curse of fuzzy thinking,
we must boldly grasp truth's golden rope.
These fuzzy thoughts lead to hurtful actions,
sowing the seeds of pain and strife.
But every human being deserves respect
and the freedom to live their own life.
I Shall *** ————————
As I pass, I shall pause to live
The poem apart fromthe paper,
Not writing,
But floating…I shall linger
Bowing to whisper to violets, to
Inhale their royal purple hues
In their expansions of blooming.
Then, I shall lean to listen over
Those petals, spy their
Delicate, golden, stigmata centers
And inhale the fuzzy,
Dusty pollen, to dream of my own
Blossoming in dusk-falling deft blue
Air, swirling with minute diamond-
Lights as either I rise or heaven falls
Briefly
To grace a splendor-knowing of
Love to love,
Heart to heart,
Soul to soul.
I hear my spoken poem:
“Alleluia! I choose, yes,
To live like the sweet
Violets, a one among the All;
Endeared above, with beauty below;
Translating agonies;
Choreographing smiles
As I go…
——————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young Eslinger 11/2021
Thanks be to God
X
My Husband Is Preparing Our picnic.
Filling The Oversized Wicker Basket With Blankets And Fresh Fruit .
I Smell Coffee
I Hear Laughter
I See Smiling Children
I Feel Happy
The Sun Peaks From Behind The Picture-Perfect gleaming white clouds
Clear And Crisp And Still Is The Sky.
The Weather is illuminating Warm On My Skin, Yet Moments Between Is a Softening Breeze, so Fresh as I Contently Inhale
A Completed Schedule,
An Empty Diary, Our Calendar Blank, and No Reason to Leave
Fuzzy Minds Set Free,
Thoughts clear
Not a single person or somebody else to please
Inner Peace
A day I often dream about, stars I have every night upon wished, for us to simply be together and sit beside the most beautiful seaside
as a family.
As your wife.
As their mother
As a person whose life in that moment felt fulfilled
The moment comes
To cast clear sums
You seek to know
A touch that shows
Words in a glance
Dance with fond chance
Verse scripts now sell
A cryptic spell
Lines in good time
Steer glimpse of chimes
Spell of word craft
Sparks awkward draft
Echoes now tint
This dreamy hint
Not all is lost
In fragrant cost
Seize bit by bit
Such fuzzy wit
Discourse works fine
In naughty lines
Such oozing curves
Provoke raw nerves
Be bold and brave
Watch echoes save
Plain love can move
Odd sacred grooves
Watch how life plays
Strange cast of clay
Glimpse deep and still
See love true will
And sure as time
Echoes sync rhymes
Leon Enriquez
07 June 2017
Singapore
My sister was horrified; you cannot give me that bucket,
She says, snottily as I try to hand her the renegade violets
She asked me to collect, complete with roots.
Why not?
There are dandelions in it. My husband hates dandelions.
Who hates dandelions?
I pull the dandelions out of the fray,
and plop them into a vase of water.
I have heard about a way to decorate a punch bowl with dandelions.
You put the head of a dandelion into each ice cube square of an ice cube tray,
Then you pour water in the tray and freeze.
Voila! Ice dandelions look lovely floating in a punchbowl.
I thought my sister was the only person in the world who disliked dandelions
Until I was trying to make fun of her at work, and other grown-ups agreed with her.
What kind of people hate dandelions?
They are pretty, they are the brightest yellow, they can be collected and made into faerie headbands,
Their stems are easy to link together.
I collect my secret box from inside the recesses of my biggest oak tree,
And put forty dandelions inside, to be linked later, when my sister leaves.
I will add a bit of fuzzy hot pink ribbon to complete my new headband.
But does she leave?
Heavens no.
She has to tell me why she hates clover now.
I am indignant, because
I planted that clover.
For my animals,
The wildest of the wild.
The bunnies, the deer, and the rabbits.
Submitted on 4/30/2018
To Jamie's Interesting Contest
Have you ever seen a grizzly... bare?
And told him to put on some clothes
I did that once, but it must have upset him
Because he reared back on his toes
Well this guy's no freaking big hero
So I started to take off like a shot
But before I could, he grabs me and says
“I'm your friend... like it or not!”
Mr. Grizzly must surely have noticed
Sweat pouring down from my brow
He started to laugh like big bears do
Scared the poop out of me... holy cow!
As he held me, I calmed down a little
He seemed like a right friendly chap
But those teeth of his were really sharp
He was drooling from his cavernous yap
But he really seemed like a kindly old soul
Neither nasty, nor scary, nor mean
I asked if he'd like to come home for honey
But insisted he put on some jeans
The reason is because of my kiddies
Not nice to go showing your parts
It's just a matter of common decency
Wanted to get that straight from the start
So off we go, Mr. Grizzly and me
I'm feeling warm and fuzzy all over
Another new friend to share some laughs
Along with my old dog Rover
© Jack Ellison 2014
I've wrote that I died with you. I warbled sonnets about our mutual loss and pain.
Now I try to find a pinpoint on the day of resurrection, of when my breath retook.
No, this sorrow never fades; the grief is always here, but slowly like a cataract
time grows and fills the eyes with a dull impressions of a life.
I remember weeping at loss, pain, grief. Begging light to chase the darkness.
I don't remember the first rays of sunshine, the mourning not quite done.
Today I think I have a rhythm, that's supposed to be me, but the edges of definite
are gray and smudged like a horizon of rain where the suns supposed to be.
My memories are like that of the storm, bold in the lightening of a moment
yet fluffed and fading in the darkness of the storming grief. For what is me?
Do we come to a single point where we are an exclamation of our past?
Does our history define us? Our blood and bonds design our personalities?
I have no history. Not that I can name. My childhood memories overshadowed
by that the single bolt of horror, grief like aftershocks that crumpled my psyche.
Who can give me details of our life before your death? No ones left to speak.
Who but you can tell me about my infancy, or adolescent schemes?
In grief I wrote I died with you, dramatic at its best. But here I find I might truly have,
for I'll never find that fledgling flight. Who will tell me what the pictures mean?
All you left for me is lost, but those fuzzy infant memories. Truly orphaned
there is no past to see. Who will tell me of your legacies?
I have nothing left of you but me, who will speak of you to me?