Long Joey Poems

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


Premium Member Why the Long Faces

                          Hey Joey, why the long face?
                          Hey Rusty, why the long face?
                          Hey Blacky, why the long face?
                          Hey Sue, why the long face?
                          Hey June, why the long face?

          Hee Hee                                        Hee hee
                 Hey                                            Hey
              Joey                                                Rusty  
           why                                                      why
          the                                                           the
        long                                                            long
       face?                                                             face?
       Hey                                                               Hey
       Blacky                                                           Sue
         why                                                            why
            the                                                         the
               long                                                  long      
                   face?                                          face?
                       Hey                                     June
                               why the long face?

                            Horseplay On Words...
                            You sure like to stirrup trouble.
                            Giddy up Blacky on the double.
                            Is it pasture bedtime Joey?
                            Stop horsing around Blacky!
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Shape


My Dressage Experience

Learning dressage can be difficult, 
Especially when training with different horses. 
Eddie ‘Whoopee Cushion’ maintains speed all the way through, 
While Angus ‘Cow Horse’ moos.
Scooby ‘Snail’ fails to obey,
And Joey ‘Giant’ delays going into canter.
Although all horses are different, 
I still manage to score over sixty per cent.
Even if horses don’t obey,
I got to keep trying to keep my score high.
If I don’t keep trying and let the horse take control, 
I will lose marks and have no hope of winning.
When I halt the horse and salute,
I know it is the end of the test and hope for a good score.

20/06/21

Premium Member Beyond Romance Ecstasy

Beyond romance 
of one-flesh* ecstasy…
above sweet expectations
during marriage-vow recital…
may God’s love lift you up together
bound by His passionate affection, divine
toward blessed, blissful, beautified union… verily triumphant!

When facing turmoil 
after grand wedding date…
from struggles and adjustments
despite sweet honeymoon’s delight…
may the Lord’s care keep you all the more
cleaving well to one another much intimately
thanking God for blessing you as husband and wife!

Constantly in love 
within faith-commitment’s cord
enclosed by the great Lover’s warmth
fiery, to quench coldness of decadence…
may Christ’s grace ceaselessly wrap your hearts
sealing your devotion, to weather marital challenges
as you stay joyous in your partnership that exalts the Saviour!

Dedicated to Agape and Joey on their wedding day, January 7, 2020.

*Matthew 19:6 Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. 

January 7, 2020
2nd place, "Picture Prompt" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri; judged by 1/28/2020.

Six Wonderful People

Six wonderful people very bright and young 
shared a cramped apartment...
is that because they couldn't afford the rent,
or they loved to have fun?


What a hilarious circus, if they had teamed up!
They got angry, but still apologized and made up;
they seemed to have many problems,
some more complex than the others.


Rachael was very pretty and cool,
Phoebe was so naive and not too witty,
Lisa was refined and very beautiful,
Joey was a womanizer extremely funny,
Chandler was the sarcastic guy who loved sensual Monica,
and Ross was the nice dude who was embarrassed by Erotica.   


These talented actors have entertained us
for long years fascinating us with their charms;
they were a close family rather than good friends who struggled...
they must have felt deep sadness when the final episode was aired.   


Written by Andrew crisci
for Michael Falotico's contest,
" Ryhme Me An Old TV Show "
Chosen show: Friends
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Kangaroo

Meet my Kangaroo herd in Australian highlands,
The king of the herd is Don, very big and strong,
There are many females with little joeys in the pouch,
With little protection from the king on the mound.

Would I like to ride a male Kangaroo,
The rhythm of their hops, leaps, and bounds,
Will throw me sky high without restraints,
The thrill of ride will resonate with high notes of violin plays.

When cockatoo and ravens start shrieking,
The dingo pack may be ready for hunting nearby,
The eagle may be flying overhead for easy prey,
The chase of kangaroos starts, they run for their lives, high notes of violin play.

When all the danger seems gone away,
The birds sing and the violin plays soothing notes,
Female and joeys play with each other,
Their hugs and kisses are full of passion and love.

In the highland kangaroo habitat,
Grass may be plenty in spring, but scarce in summer, fall and winter,
They dig deep, eat snow, fight swarm of insects, dogs, and dingoes to survive,
Life is tough here compared to the kin in  the neat and clean zoo.


Joey – young kangaroo offspring
© Jay Narain  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member forget not king warning

forget not king warning demonic 
danger incremental gradual liberal
nor genocide joey precedent 
nor dispensation donny cleansing
oligarchy authority false choice
g ford greater more effective evil
empire merrikka people subjects 
rejects will well being ignore
dream fruition arriving never more
guard commons free speech farmed
private sector extract boiled ready frog
politic elect thesbian culture war
tonies grammies oscars divide conquer
chopping chomsky consent manufacture
wealth income earth labor rare birth
despair lament pay rent higher 
proper response race both blatant
subtle kinder gentler totalitarian 
all planet people planted excluded
possible power economic politic
remote hemmed chemical psycho
social escape routes addict dead ends
abundant narrate nook craney cross
every color four bid three finger all pro
nouns nun since seeing poking stabbing
lids bins laden all gore beat rhyme
tapdancing tintinabulation embedded
robot tune ruin seesaw sooth soul life
sleep endless bow dark nestle loud
selah

Premium Member The Crocodile Hunter

It was a call to action that we preserve
  the oceans and continents he crossed -
to champion, protect, cherish and conserve
  but alas now to that caution he is lost!

He was in large life a force of nature
  and in injured death a martyr to the cause.
Leaping madly on some croc or gator
  wrestling its mighty ancient tail and jaws.

If it swam or crawled or stung or bit
  he lived and breathed his animal spirit.
  Mate, if ever I see a ghost in khaki
I’ll muse of one man and yell “Crikey!”.

He loved the bush and desert and sea
  and forest creatures gentled or fierce,
but diving in the ocean wild and free
  a stingray’s barb did his heart pierce.

In Beerwah he learnt to climb and crouch
  when the kid Croc Hunter grew as a child,
and returned a sick joey to its pouch
  and learned to love the demon crocodile.

If it swam or crawled or stung or bit
  he lived and breathed his animal spirit.
  Mate, if ever I see a ghost in khaki
I’ll muse of one man and yell “Crikey!”.


             
          Written: October 2006
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Nature: Bushfire

At peace in the world, alone with her joey, 
A soft breeze ruffles her hair,
Amongst the green of life all around, 
In the freshest of forest filled air,

Just sitting and gazing, peering at love, 
In tune with the natural ballet,
She sees the birds fly off for nothing at all, 
Fly off to a place far away,

Then a little fat wombat quietly scurries on past, 
Over dead leaves all ashen dry,
And off in the distance above all the green, 
The orange fires up to the sky,

All hell breaks on out, her paws hit the ground, 
One final truth she now understands,
No time to think, for today is her last, 
As the fire rips through her home land.

Premium Member Ouch

My young baby roo I love and protect
He's a bit of a kicker and a fidget
He lives safely inside my kangaroo pouch
With stronger kicks felt, ouch! I cry out.

As little ones do, he won't keep very still
For my body ache pains, the vet pops me a pill
Roo pushes and twists while awake or asleep
Power kick gifts, from his little long feet.

High jumper or boxer he could turn out to be
Up pops his head, his new world to see
Ouch! another kick; again to my ribs
A sudden spring jump, he's out from his crib.

Jumping, exploring, very much excited
In-out play; then back in pouch basket
Not one for climbing in or out gently
Always kick butting, my poor sore belly.

A grown boy now, he'll be leaving home soon
No more protection from mums tum cocoon
My ouch in my pouch, my baby roo joey
If human he'd win; gold Olympic jump glory.



"O" Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest

Sponsor  Constance La France 

Written   23.09.21
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Grass

The Grass

HER. I almost forgot. The lawn looked dry.
HIM. What lawn?
HER. Ours. I noticed while I was waiting for you tonight...in the car.
HIM.I wish you wouldn't do that. Baumgartner is always ribbing me about it.
HER. Wish I wouldn’t do what?
HIM. Wait in the car until we leave.
HER. Joey Baumgartner should mind his business.
HIM. The sprinklers have a schedule. You have to admit it's a little nutty.
HER. Sitting in my own car, in my own driveway, in front of my own house. I wouldn’t need to if you were on time.
HIM. I’m not that late.
HER. You're always late. You should water the grass when we get home.
HIM. It'll be close to ten when we get home. Besides it's not good for it.
HER. What? It's grass.
HIM. It gets mold if you water at night.
HER. So? It's grass.
HIM. All the experts say it's bad for the grass.
HER. Well, my experts say it's good for the water bill.
HIM. Fine. I'll water the grass.

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