Long Maypole Poems
Long Maypole Poems. Below are the most popular long Maypole by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Maypole poems by poem length and keyword.
Botticelli takes a warm bath.
Springtime in arcadia,
The Grace chicks are a threesome.
I tend to ignore the other stuff that's going on.
For triplets
they each have their subtle differences
The girls are demure,
yet they seem to be hoofing a sexy gavotte.
We need a Maypole,
I guess the Italians outnumber the English
in Elysium.
They are as soft as a pillow dream.
I wonder if they ever pillow fight -
a pajamaed affair designed
to arouse Pan and all his
goat faced minions.
It's lambing time
and the ladies
are bouncing merrily.
One day I might take note
of what else is happening
in the painting,
pull it all together
with a few well-chosen observations.
Probably, even then
there will be some odd twigs,
or bendable twists of green
I can't weave together,
no matter how hard I try.
Chestnut curls
Bouncing in a six-year-old way
Long fat ones
May Day Maypole magic
Frocks of many colours
Lavenders, blues, with frothy stiff petticoats
Tall white socks to knees
Crisp against flesh legs
Shiny black patent leather shoes
Innocence in a faerie's mind
Each young maid wearing a garland of flowers, mostly daisies
Some violets, holding spring softly in their palms
First grade boys rolling their eyes,
Tired of their bow ties, thinking this all silly
Forced by their mothers and a strict nun of a teacher to participate.
Written: 4-28-2019
Contest: A Garland
Sponsor: Julia Ward
I well remember 'yesterday'.
I am experiencing 'today'.
I have great expectations
and hopes for 'tomorrow',
BECAUSE I HAVE LEARNED
THAT WE CAN CHANGE.
When as a child, my playmates
and I watched the clouds turn
grey and the sunlight go away,
we played in the barn on the
hay and plated the Maypole
in the Month of May.
When once upon a time in my
home state, it seemed to me
that hate poured down like
rain, flooding the human
landscape with pain. There
was enough misery to drive weak
ones insane, and no one gained.
BUT I LEARNED THAT WE CAN CHANGE.
When once upon a time I was ashamed
to mention my home state by name;
When I was reluctant to say where
I was from; and I dreaded to utter
the word 'Mississippi' upon my tongue.
Fortunately, that was once upon a time. I moved away after high school when I was 17; 58 years ago.
Since then there has been a changing of minds. I have
much gratitude to God, and I hasten to add, I AM CLEARLY SEEING A CHANGE.
LIFE IS LIKE A MAYPOLE
Outstretch above are blue skies and golden sunshine
as train of threads is softly thug and braid to a pole.
Behold, this sky high pole of bright crayon colors,
they speak slowly about life in quite a number. . .
Sturdy wooden pole standing high and tall
is like a man endowed with wit and strength
The lengthy colored ribbons children install
are the shifting, rolling faces of life's events
Black as night sometimes dawn in life,
one maybe blue but not long, instead
do stand and chase rainbows on green belt bend.
Being a tickled pink to explore, never strife!
See, how the color red blush as it dance in the wind
so must we as we share love along kinship line
we aren't all born with a green finger
yet, each kindness touch, grin lingers!
Shed that yellow-bellied skin
to mingle without any charign.
Our life is given by God in silver plate.
Hence, let our daily goal be a red-letter day!
If we do, earth and sky may wed of rapport
like the ribbons together pulled and blend
by hands of dancing children that mend...
Raising the Maypole aloft with ribbon pour
so is a lived life despite black and blues decor.
As the threads slide smoothly in span of minutes
we, humans, must climb to reach our full limits.
The intertwining colors that fused, all roar
salad differences of man can be sorted, united to be one.
Screaming colors tickle lowly spirits' to fire
daring man to live before his body will retire. . .
Living life to the fullest before each setting sun!
_____________________________________________________________
©O.E. Guillermo
11:23 pm-- February 02, 2015
Sponsor: Seren Roberts
Contest Name: Life is like a Maypole
Placed 1st
Children in the village are filled with joy
Waiting patiently for the grand parade
Each one has a task every girl and boy
Sandwiches prepared and tables are laid
Laden with treats and ice cold lemonade
The may pole bedecked in ribbons so bright
Children gasp at such a beautiful sight
Kate dreams of becoming Queen of the May
Elegant and poised and so full of grace
Prays so hard that it will come true one day
Her lovely dress made from cream coloured lace
Fresh flowers will frame her pretty young face
They’ll dance round the maypole on grass so green
Just for one day will Kate be the May Queen?
Girls dance around in bright coloured dresses
Judges choose who is the prettiest girl
Sweet scented blooms are pinned in their tresses
Ribbons are plaited as the children twirl
The May queen in crowned her minds in a whirl
Kate’s the prettiest one the judges say
Dreams do come true; she is Queen of the May
03~05~15
Contest: On The First of May – Isaiah Zerbst
My first attempt at Rhyme Royal – ABABBCC
~awarded 4th place~
I remember it well.
The feeling was swell.
It happened once a year;
An event most precious and dear.
The fragrance was in the air.
It was still mid-Spring, but from the sky,
There protruded the aroma of summer.
I hasten to say, it was a beautiful first of May.
And presently, I pause with warm affections, to reflect,
To muse upon the emotions that were like no other day.
To us, May Day was like a holiday encased in amusements.
It was time to plait the Maypole.
With coordination and precision, we flowed
With the rhythm of the music as we danced and skipped
Around the pole, plaiting eye-catching bright and bold colors.
They were rainbow colors, filled with life, like those in our hearts.
Oh, what lovely and memorable visions of childhood, so real and vivid.
No selfies or videos, but the pictures are forever painted in our souls.
It's true that life took us away, far from the shores of childhood festivities.
In our career years, we are encumbered with futuristic aspirations, but as
the locomotive of life slows, our minds swing back to the Maypoles of yesterday.
050422PS
Women, dance around this tall Maypole with colorful strings
and stare into your sweethearts' eyes:
don't they glance back and smile remembering joyful things?
Men, notice the spark on your darlings' faces,
it's a happy event for renewing vows:
start the first day of May without telling lies!
Go around it many times, return to your youth's days
when present was distant from tomorrow,
see all the images come alive as you glow;
pull the string and go forward, look the Maypole swings
as a wheel of fortune that spins at full force...
driving out evils and fears of any source!
Entered in Serene Roberts's contest,
" Life is like a Maypole "
Written on 2/10/ 2015
In and out,
with ribbons held
round and round the Maypole-
charming patterns made;
around, around-
in and out-
weaving purpose in their dance.
In and out,
our days of life-
round and round- through the years,
building as we go;
around, around-
in and out,
weaving patterns of our life.
Over, under,
and then braid-
we weave our days, one by one;
layers make them strong.
Beauty of those
patterns made-
deepens as our years go by.
In and out,
our days of life,
round and round through the years,
charming patterns made;
over, under
in and out-
weaving purpose of our life.
October 1, 2021
Revision of a poem posted Jan 17, 2015
Imagine if seeds of trees hatched to Tree-lings.
Seedlings with two trunk legs and root feet
Bodies like humans covered in bark
Arm branches with finger shoots and leaves
Head with eyes, nose, ears and mouth
Like those cut into tree trunks eons ago.
Meet the Ents, pre-tree creatures,
Half-man, half-tree, destined to mature into trees.
When they are about two-score rings old and more
Their tired trunks grow roots
And Ents lose their human-like features and become just trees.
Ents can walk to establish new Ent colonies.
Ent armies can mobilize and fight against loggers
Who want to hack down their grand parents the trees.
You can stroll with an Ent on long walks through the forest
To hear their wonderful stories and legends.
Ents can talk and sing their arbor songs.
They also have ears and can hear what you say to them.
So you can talk to the trees, give them a hug
And say how much you love them.
But watch out, as Ents can be very argumentative,
Especially about how the forests are being cleared and
Roads cut through their midst, and even global warming.
Ents are too big and messy with leaf drop to invite into your home.
But they love a picnic in the open.
They hate smoke, which they fear, and so barbecues are out.
They love going to the beach where they can dip their toes and trunks.
The mangroves taught them how to swim and they love to bathe and swim about,
In the cool seawater and play with the seaweed and kelp.
They float well, and love to jump in a river and get carried downstream in the current.
They love a game of ring-around-rosy and even a maypole game.
Ents are are also very good and gentle with kids.
They love to have kids climb and play in their branches.
They are avid experts at swinging and swirling kids around their trunks.
So next time you wander through a forest
Call out "Ent, Ents can You Hear Me?"
Gently tap on trunks as you go
And don't be surprised if you hear the leaves rustle
Or hear a grumble, and see Ent eyes pop open in slits in the bark.
Ents love a chat and hug and a cuddle, and a scratch in their bark
Even when they get lazy and get rooted to the ground.
The Ents are there, you just need to believe in them and find them.
I could speak of the seedlings rising through
The soil, or the stunning roses and lillies.
I could muse about the spring power of
The color green defeating winter's brown.
But something else is inspiring me today.
It happened every year on the first day of May.
The Lord always gave us bright and sunny skies
That always blended well with anticipating eyes.
There simply wasn't any day like that day.
A tall white pole is what I recall;
Long, colorful, and hanging ribbons;
Boys and girls 'platting the Maypole';
Never realizing we were planting memories.
Around and around we went, skipping
To the sweet beats of the music, until at last,
A beautiful pole laced with rainbow colors.
Presently, like the plants of May, the pleasant
Memories of one sunny day in May are alive.
They say that the region has more storms
In May; but it's not tornadoes that I remember.