Long Lagoon Poems
Long Lagoon Poems. Below are the most popular long Lagoon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lagoon poems by poem length and keyword.
All together, let us do the chicken splash,
Seeing how pink-orange sun never lasts.
Don't fight it, red stars are coming soon;
Like the ducks, let dive in stormy lagoon!
Through maroon monsoon, we all dance,
splashing and laughing, in silver romance.
Steel blue skies, cluck cluck. Run amuck!
If still seeking that rainbow, best of luck.
Hopscotch through puddles, sepia splash.
We let go for once, under lightning's flash,
very blue and true, suddenly electrifying!
Shake like a chicken, with droplets flying.
Dance purple raindrops and muddy water,
All is not perfection, and all is not order.
Dance for wild abandon and hollering fun,
Dance before mauve midnight, dark ruin.
There I was, a lonely soul, lollin' on a Bermuda beach soakin' up the sun,
Where the sand is pink and the rum swizzles will never be outdone!
Where college goils from New Joisey and New Yawk flock to each Easter,
To frolic on the beaches, find romance and display their comely keister!
From across the way I espied this beauty strollin' along the shore.
I mused, "Is this the steamy summer love that I've been pinin' for?"
The statuesque bikini-clad doll came towards me with a cat-like stride.
I could hardly quell the romantic notions that were wellin' up inside!
I leapt to my feet, pullin' in my gut and puffin' out my puny chest!
(After all! To impress this stunner wouldn't you want to look your best!)
"Hi-ya, big fella", she purred, "I've come to Bermuda for a little fun,
And my ten-day holiday in this lovely paradise has just begun!"
Well, what's a feller to do - I invited her for a Manhattan at the local pub.
Afterwards, we sipped champagne and played toesies in a heated tub!
Later, strollin' the beach, we noted that old man winkin' at us from the moon.
This was enhanced by romantic music serenadin' us from across the lagoon!
Things were goin' so well that I just could not believe my good luck.
Suddenly, it all ended as if I'd been dinged in the head with a hockey puck!
Alas, I had been dreamin' this romantic interlude that was far from borin',
When my spouse poked me sayin', "Wake up and stop that infernal snorin'!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 1 in Sweetheart Of Poetry Soup's "Steamy Summer Love" Contest - Jul 2010
Sprawling aspirant vivacious incandescence
spreads spectrum of passion on the silken sky
spring-saturated exuberance spectrum paints
my heart’s canvas that comes to chromatic life.
On the arid cinnamon ground dry to the core
my auburn desolation pervades creeping in the sly
through the wilted veins of the fallen frail leaves
with the evergreen tunes of hopes in their rustle.
The eyes weep the unseen tears in a torrent
fill the cauldron of fathomless pathos
forlorn life’s remnant essence of verdance remains
in the thicket on the eroded banks of the mind.
The cadence of symphony of the fervent zephyr
drifting from the yonder plateau of yearning
glides with the ripples of melody on lilac lagoon heart
pulsates with the waves of rhapsody in the bay of bliss.
__________________
November 25, 2021
Contest : "W" New Poems
Sponsor : Constance La France
Oiled and bronzed
In cupped pose
Her wetted hair
The want in me grows
Silhouetted
Against the moonlight
Beside the blue lagoon
Her curves of delight
She turns her head
As she looks into my eyes
Sultry and steamy
On the cooling sands we lie
Tethered together
By capturing arms
Under the light of the moon
We share our charms
In sync we caress
With the sounds of the waves
Our tongues fencing
As our lips crave
Two become one
On this moonlit night
The love of two
In wonderful delight
We arise from the sands
Beside the blue lagoon
Walking home hand in hand
Our hearts in loving bloom
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-8.php
Yo-Ho-Ho And Shiver Me Timbers
Shiver me timbers and loosen me limbers
I sail me sloop until it lin’ers
And drop anchor in t’ nearest lagoon
Bury me treasure chest full o’ doubloons
Then set off durin t’ next full moon
~
“Aarrr!” I’m happy go-lucky sea piratin Cap’n
With a short wooden leg and a limp, earrin’s, and rin’s on every fin’er
Metal silver hook for me left hand
Me cutlass, dagger, and dirk o’ me belt
Not a landlubber at all
~
Not a thin’ scares me that stand in my way
Especially when I’ve had a few grogs in me belly
Aye, I carry around me Ahoy! bucko Polly me parrot on me shoulder
That keeps me on t’ straight and narrow
~
They call me a barbaric and thief I don’t know why
A great insult t’ me, I just laugh into my handkerchief in disbelief
~
Don’t insult me temper because it gets carried away
Sarcasm, rudeness, and insults I cannot help
When swashbucklin’ scallywag get in me way
~
Me hearty weigh anchor
Or I’ll give ye a taste o’ walkin t’ plank
T’ Davy Jones’ Locker you will go and feed t’ fishes for mutinous
Dead men tell no tales!
~
Aye, aye, mates, pull anchor and set sail
I be Silver Hook a feared pirate that sails t’ seas
9/5/2015
Contest Name :A Pirate's Life For Me
Sponsor Name: Kelly Deschler
Contest : Beautiful Words Are Here
Sponsor : Nette Onclaud
Date : August 20, 2026
Dormant desires of lingering effervescent longing
spread fiery spectrum of ardor in my fervent sky
through the diaphanous clouds of psychic shroud.
Spring-soaked brush of hued acuity paints passion
on my essence canvas, portraying the lattice of life.
The cascading cadence of surreal sonata of breeze,
drifts from the yonder plateau of pining yearning.
Its rhythmic whisper intones the lilt of melodic love,
rolling gently on the ripples of my heart’s lilac lagoon,
pulsating with endless ecstasy of enthralling tune.
"The summer night is still and sweet,
with flowers on every tree
peace comes to them on quiet feet."
Soothed by the tune of cricket songs
which for sure, does guarantee
each living thing to sleep belongs.
As birds return at last to rest
their tired wings and oversee
new chicks within each tiny nest.
And, in the valley, people sleep
while moonlit beams soon decree-
we in our worlds of slumber keep.
Deep in the woods, a small lagoon
ripples- glittering carefree
beneath the glow of the full moon.
As God, with watchful sight makes sure
all is well on land and sea-
asserting peaceful hours endure.
May 15, 2021
Contest: Choose Your Form 2
Sponsor: Joseph May
Stanza #2
lucent glow
of longing
turns into
spring-suffused
exuberant spectrum
paints fresco
of floral splendor
on canvas
of my chromatic life
flamboyant
on arid
cinnamon ground
auburn despair
creeps furtive
like silent sigh
in wilted veins
of fallen leaves
rustling frail
serenades sanguine
evergreen tune
of hope
in the last crawl
desolate
eyes weep
unseen tears
in torrent
fill cauldron
of pining pathos
while
forlorn life’s
lingering element
of emerald essence
remains like
lone
defoliated tree
in wasteland
of broken banks
of denuded mind
isolated
cadence of symphony
of fervent zephyr
adrift from
yonder plateau
of yearning
glides on
waves of desire
in lagoon heart
pulsates
with ripples
of rhapsody
in bay of bliss
innate
Dear A,
“Do you remember John McLean?” you asked
“He died of an overdose this week past,”
If I remember John McLean? I can see
Him in fractured shadows of memory
Edges curled up with whisky and cigarettes
Our midnight quests for sleaze and side-effects;
While we talked of escape and sought new thrills
Beyond the tollgate and home’s confining hills,
When we searched that night so determinedly
For pills in the nervous light of a pharmacy
Perhaps our adolescent raving dimmed
Some destiny already struggling in him?
Like Eve’s fossil footprints pressed in the dune
On mustard shores along Langebaan lagoon,
All our choices leave their trails, faint remains
Of petrified memory through time-hewn veins
And the blue-black susurrus of his blood
Dried up like Eve’s footprint before the flood.
Ending so sudden, abrupt, unforeseen.
But yes, yes, I do remember John McLean.
Yours sincerely
M.
Springtime fervent fresco
shines on the easel
of embellished topography,
embroidered filigree
enshrined
in Monet landscape,
luminous
in effervescent elegance
with sparkle of sapphire lagoon
in dreaming ebullient eyes,
entranced,
and with lustrous lotus petals
of luscious lips
ardently parted,
painted on silken canvas
of convivial countenance,
magnetic,
carved with narcissistic contours
of innate pride
with dormant Dorian Gray syndrome,
subdued.
The sands of time
roll over wrinkled canvas,
from winter twilight zone
senile spider creeps,
weaves weary
with the last strings of hope
webs of facial furrows
of creased contentment,
empty eyes gaze,
forlorn
at weathered wasteland,
regressed,
find in desiccated garden
the faded flowers
lose patina of passion,
enticing once.
Hedonist psyche refuses
to gauge the grief of loss,
trapped in transient notion,
sanguine,
for what is a face
if not a metaphor
for proclivity panorama,
sustaining snapshot
capturing mesmeric moments,
frozen
in timeless frame
of concealed charisma,
contained in cauldron
of boundless beauty,
transcendent.