Long Muffed Poems
Long Muffed Poems. Below are the most popular long Muffed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Muffed poems by poem length and keyword.
The drench in the monsoon shower
Can feel the smiling and risen sun all gleeful and gay,
ushered in me a beams of energy earlier today.
Can sense now it chuckle at the setting milky white moon,
softly in me restore its light to make me estatically swoon.
virgin cold watery sprays of the falling drops of rains,
Slowly washes my worries off my face and down the drain.
fragrance of wet mud and lush sweet garden breeze,
Blows into me, pure strength..
happiness in me gradually increase.
As I walk bare feet, wet grassy paths of garden gently,
subdued muffed up feelings erupt over my heart’s brim intently…..
let go of all feelings and experience inside me a sensation so very light,
My vision clears and thoughts to me for this day's path ahead seem so very bright.
Could feel the smiling and risen sun all gleeful and gay,
It had ushered in me a beam of energy earlier today.
Could sense now at twilight it chuckle at the rising milky white moon,
And softly in me restore its light to make me excite and swoon.
The virgin cold watery sprays of the falling drops of rains,
Slowly washes my worries off my face and down the drain.
The fragrance of wet mud and lush sweet garden breeze,
Blows into me, pure strength and happiness in me gradually increase.
As I walk bare feet, wet grassy paths of my garden gently,
My subdued muffed up feelings erupt over my heart’s brim intently…..
I let go of all feelings and experience inside me a sensation so very light,
my vision clears and thoughts to me for my life's path ahead seem so very bright...
Let the eye see, through clear, clean lenses
Not a wilderness of mirrored reflections,
Echoing biases of misconception,
But, with true perception, rid of self.
The sound I hear from out there,
A call of bird, a ring of bell,
Is not a story, memory nor a spell.
It is improvisation in staccato, syncopation.
The taste of a raindrop on the tongue,
Is not, sweet, bitter, old, nor young.
It is what tantalizing tit bits can become,
When the nose is held tight with a thumb.
When we touch with our eyes closed,
With ears muffed, befuddled,
With nose congested, blocked,
We feel what's real and selfless.
'The deaf, blind, dumb kid,
Sure plays a mean pinball'.
When the self is silenced, subdued,
Windows are opened, mirrors are shrouded.
"Grab it", said Bob rabbit,
And went hop, hop,
The bacon was taken,
From the meat shop,
The cops pulled all the stops,
To catch grub thief,
They searched for bunny smirched,
To Bob's great grief,
He hopped until he dropped,
With fatigue sheer,
His bacon forsaken,
Ran off in fear,
Jack got his bacon back,
Thanked the police,
Chuffed that Bob's work was muffed,
Gave each a piece.
8th April 2023
inspired by Andrea Dietrich's Footles
Meat Market Robbery
Bacon
Taken
Pickpocket Bunny
Grab it
Rabbit
For Margarita Lillico's "Find Your PS Muse" contest
HORIZON
"A midst random skies
are broken puzzles of white clouds
muffed together high and raised
skies random a midst
spots of blue hinged in the north
space separates earth and skies
how clever is the maker of all and is
special those ingredients He has created
placing a white/yellow dot in the skies
to warm our bodies and burn our eyes
So don't look up on to the sun
Look onto the creator of all and"....
HORIZON
9/1/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2018©
4th Placement
Early Sept 2018 Premiere, Any Form, Any Theme Up to A Max Of 20 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by:Brian Strand
Here I am basking in the honour and glory
For my poems you have given to me
But there is something in the back
Of my mind tickling, you see
That is, if a tree had to fall in the forest
And no one was there would it make a sound
See this is the thing at the back
Of my mind that I found
I cannot accept the honour and the glory
For it would not have been if not for you
I would like to share these honours
With all those at poetry soup too
And because if you have noticed
I have no choice
As you can hear from my
High pitched muffed voice
You see he has my right arm
In an arm lock
And in my mouth
A smelly old sock
It’s my imaginary friend Glen
His not happy with me
For his the one that
Really writes all my poetry
So we would like to say from my
Imaginary friend Glen and me, to you
For the Honours and glory
A big THANK YOU
How beautiful was the sweet young bride,
In a white satin gown arrayed.
Draped in a sheer gossamer veil,
She stole our breath away.
Her veiled head lay on a pillow soft,
Clasped in her hands a red rose.
Muffed sobs could be heard all around,
As the bride lay in peaceful repose.
Pale was her skin and cold to the touch,
Her countenance angelic, serene.
In contrast to her grieving spouse,
Whose eyes held a sorrowful sheen.
Too soon had she been whisked away,
To live where the angels dwell.
But her spirit had flown, leaving behind,
Her pain and this earthly shell.
As the service began, the pastor said,
"Let's all pause now for prayer."
And I was sure that I could hear,
The songs of angels in the air.
(Loosely based on a real event)
12/17/11
For Andrea's Word Wizard Contest Words used: draped, pillow, muffled, dwell, pause