Long Jig Poems
Long Jig Poems. Below are the most popular long Jig by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jig poems by poem length and keyword.
The Whistlepig Jig
I sat upon my porch one day
my pennywhistle for to play.
When out stepped Mr. Whistle-pig,
I thought to dance a jig.
“I left the comfort of my den,”
says he,”to satisfy my yen. I hear
this high-pitched trilling noise,
emanating from your little toy.”
“This is no little toy”, says I,
“so what do you imply?”
“I do not like this sound,
that pulled me out from underground.”
“Too bad” says I and played on still,
I will not quit until you‘ve had your fill.”
He chuckled in his ground hog way, and
said he, “I intend now to stay,
to laugh at you while you play.”
I took umbrage at his cheek
and said he had no right to speak.
With careful aim I raised my whistle
and flung it at him like a missile.
He caught it with his little paws
and placed its reed in his jaws.
As he played, he grinned a grin,
for we both now know
that he is the real musician.
Too many lines, cut many times: horse backthoat gasps
Dramatic mimes..looking good yet, actioning bad' no more
Are you the golden lad ' its well past chance, in such like
Saloons.' A sage might well weep; before your stage' that
Had to come. How could it not? You massage reality
Really; a lot.' Look.! keep the suits you can't (wear out)
Don raybans and hugo boss, and just light out.' There's
Often chance in choices made; there will be risks yet folks
Ain't got it made.' They look around as they sleep in cars
I note here; builders, whos skills are cried; Out for!
Really needed
In Canada for many a year.' The whole plan is now, so full of
Flaws; its time to exit 'this stage' but on the ( left ) for sure.'
Beneath the emerald hills they hide,
Where shadows stretch and secrets bide,
The leprechauns with hats so green,
Dance where only dreams are seen.
They laugh and twirl in moonlit glow,
Their golden coins they softly throw.
A wink, a jig, a merry sound,
A hidden treasure underground.
With mischief in their sparkling eyes,
They hide their wealth where magic lies.
A rainbow leads, but none can trace,
The leprechauns’ elusive grace.
They’ll grant you wishes, if you’re true,
But catch them first—that’s up to you!
For they’re as quick as the morning breeze,
Vanishing with a soft “please, please!”
So search the hills and wildflower glens,
But know that the dance never ends.
The leprechauns are ever near,
Whispering laughter we can’t quite hear.
On to Ireland
Don’t look for me here anymore,
I’m moving on to Ireland
On the morrow, for
I’ve only one voice and
It’s longing to sing!
Henceforth, I’ll work as a seamstress,
Stitching everyone’s wings
To the sides of their hearts…
There in Ireland
Where everyone sings,
You may find me in Dublin dancing
With the ghost of Joyce. I’ll be
Reciting his words in his ear
As we twirl the streets
Song to song,
Pub to pub…Lyrics will lift us along,
Telling of lost loves,
Whiskey, and wandering
Through mountain heather.
So, I’ll be traveling
From this Bluegrass thoroughbred green
To the forever green of Ire’s land…
To its tunes,
I will “go lassie go.”
I’ll carry my my worlds within
and my pups at my side.
I’ll teach walls to talk.
‘llI stay clothed in
Music and history,
Wearingmy laced-up
Red boots on out to forage
The ephemeral
Regions, with
Poems fluttering loose
In my veins, feeding
On inspiration’s
nectar.
My skirt is lined with metaphors,
My hair is left down to catch the wind,
And my eyes keep a smiling gleam
Anyone will see, even
While I’m mourning at
The most recent Finnegan’s wake…
All sing,
“Diddle dee die do.”
My red boots are exceptionally
Good for doing a jig, too.
————————————————————-
(c) sally young Eslinger 9/28/21
All glory to God
You don’t want to hear his laughter.
When this Father has to come down there
like in don’t make me come downstairs…
When the Lord laughs;
when he scoffs,
all bets are off.
You’ll be dizzy
when you see the hosts of heaven,
the giant scepter…
the crown.
He is enthroned in heaven.
There is no better place.
This kingdom can never be replaced.
You can’t kick @ ss.
You will certainly be thinking
in the waiting cell
of all the h #ll
you’ve put people through.
I can see you calculating excuses—
why they deserved it.
And it was fun…remember.
You’ll be sheepishly smiling
but with each clank
of an opening cell
you’ll be sweating,
anxiety replenishing,
sick with a tummy ache.
This can’t be real…
close your eyes.
It's only a nightmare.
But your senses
are all too clear,
top form
in fact.
For the really big mistakes
dad made you wait…
and this is a really big whopper…
So you grow angry
curse and swear
using every profanity.
You see it n*e*v*e*r
occurs to you
to get down on your knees.
Gravity calls;
the jig is up.
Key turns in the lock
9/8/2021
Psalm 2
Bursting, breaking free from stress with glee
Thankful heart welcomes joy of gracious worth
Praising God*for granting radiating, vibrant mirth
Ready to bask in hope, then toward glad sharing --- flee.
Cheerful to inspire others along praise delight
Victorious faith soars toward prayer-driven domain
Vanquishing worries, anxieties, and doubts of woeful strain
Triumphant over greed, anger, jealousy, as well as nervous-fright.
As revived spirit stays jubilant for service-quest
Divinely-controlled emotions follow heavenly guide
Satisfied midst contentment against selfishness and pride
Worshipping the Lord Who blesses well with His fullest and best.
*2 Samuel 22:50 Therefore I will give thanks unto thee, O LORD, among the heathen, and I will sing praises unto thy name.
June 1, 2024
2nd place, "The Dance of...in 16 lines or less" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Miranda Hawley; judged on 7/6/2024
Doing an Irish Jig***
(To the music of The Bothy Band)
——— ———
So early in the morning,
If you looked, you
Couldn’t tell that I
Was really awake,
With my mind mixing
Through an Irish hornpipe jig
Beside pretty Peg
And Tiddie Dunbar.
After meeting in
What seems a dream,
We’re friends now
Here in the Glen.
We click.
We switch and twist.
We swing quickly
Our feet forward
And back, to stir
Along on our route
Corner by corner,
Searching for a feis.
They can’t trail our tracks
On this fine traveling.
Perhaps we’re keeping
A foot to foot over the earth!
————————————————-
(c) sally young Eslinger 10/16/21
Thanks be to God
Swept away by infatuation's song
and tripped upon its awkward tempo...
we crept behind a tear where passion slept,
longing where dreams lie wide awake
and blind to desires hidden in view, yet
- you look through and see only mistakes.
Like the melody of a love song
when the lyrics are all that will soothe
a broken soul lost for so long
- the sound and rhythm so impossible to lose.
In the arms of tomorrow you dance
to our song, while I cannot see
the hopelessness that lingers in one last chance
- for something that can never be...
So many wishes have faded away since I
became too blind to say...goodbye...