Long Mulled Poems
Long Mulled Poems. Below are the most popular long Mulled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mulled poems by poem length and keyword.
Seven Thirty, Five Thirty and Nine
Paid a visit to Ten Past Eleven
They were tasting the precious mulled wine
Talking sweetly until it struck seven
Seven Thirty then raised from his chair
Said I’m sorry but I have to go
Answered Ten Past Eleven take care
Hope you’ll be back in time at your home
Then Five Thirty fell down fast asleep
As the clock struck eight thirty, raised Nine
Said I’m sorry, but I have to leave
Thanks a lot for the talk and the wine
Then the bell rang and came Five To One
She said sorry Ten, it is all over
Time to close, your guests are on the run
Now they must be beyond cliffs of Dover
I got Five Thirty here on the carpet
He’s your relative, take him away
Book a cab, please send off this old muppet
He’s been drinking too much the whole day
Said Ten Past Eleven, then fell into dream
Five to One left without goodbye
The mess on the table was gulfed in moon beams
For a moment, then vanished in time.
Written: January 19, 2024
____________________________________
Wondrous cymbals
in choral harmony
enraged scarlet wing beats
in a fierce rhapsody!
Countless moments
strung together.
Echoes pelt,
of unfulfilled desires
a minute hand race
without a tether
horizon turns a fuchsia shade
as mauve
streaks paint a show
purple dreams
catch fire and glow.
Swirling seraphic sways
while you glide
on ethereal waves
euphoric whirls of
azulene loops
euphuistic?
Fantasies swirl
in the velvet eyes
As the sliver
of the moon alights
The blushing sunset
rekindles yearnings
Zephyr is honeyed
by the lavender petals
Fragrant allegories
smote my essence
A velvet cloak of dreams
dances across my skin
My heart's sleeves
pirouette in bliss
Words of love
Braille-alike soft kisses
Tender promises
mingle sweet breaths
Gives a heady
rush akin to mulled vinegar.
A chilling pulse, a numb sigh
where does the boundary lie?
between life and death?
shattered verbal tidbits
may spiral beyond sight;
speaking is perilous
from feeble fingers
and wild gazes
assuming I am silent
with a talent quadrant,
a quail in the bush,
diction falling mushy
notice my words
I taught them to rhyme
still not worth your time
hearts were forsaken
by a haze of ideas
I believe I'll speak to stones.
Sated with savor sown in a summer past
musings are mulled with soft cider flavor
whilst caramel leaves harvest eve’s rose hip rays —
and like the wild asters
wearing the flame and fade of twilight hues
I moon ‘neath Orion’s garden
midst stars falling from comet’s bloom
Susan Ashley
October 5, 2019
Poet’s note: the Orionid meteor showers, considered to be one of the most beautiful showers of the year, peaks in mid-October and are caused by debris from Halley’s comet. Each time the famous comet passes around the Sun, it leaves in its wake a trail of cosmic dust and grit along its orbit (shooting/falling stars). The Orionids are so-called because the point from which they appear to originate, called the radiant, lies in the constellation Orion, but they can be seen over a large area of the sky.
On the Twenty Fifth, December Night,
Black Skies Sparkle with bright light!
Church Bells ring,Ding!Dong!Ding!
Chores of angels ,start to sing!
Merry Christmas!Everyone!
Happy Birthday,Jesus Son.
We rejoice in prayer and joy,
as We thank this New Born Boy,
He is Born for You and Me,
from Our darkness ,sets us free.
Christmas time,a time for Friends,
Tender Hugs and shaking Hands.
Red Holllies in Window Sills,
Deers and sleighs,Over the Hills.
Cheery music in the streets,
Christmas time,a time for peace,
Neighbours sharing Merry greets,
robin's nest, safely in trees..
Its a time we give Our best,
thinking more about the rest,
Christmas Cards,a Christmas Gift,
Its Our time,to give and give!!
Christmas Spirit,Home sweet Home,
A star twinkling ,on each Dome.
Lots of toys, For Homeless Kids,
Stories told and ancient myths.
Brindisi ! a toast! Saluting with a kiss,
Warm mulled wine,We never miss..
French Beres,Red coats to dress,
in their tails,Men, look their best.
Decorating Christmas trees,
altogether,Families!
Phone calls ,far across the miles,
Happy Cries and lovely smiles.
Stocking with little surprise,
Before New Dawn,wake and rise.
Five course lunch, For Everyone,
Turkey roasted,just well done.
Aunties,Cousins ,join together,
On this Christmas ,Winter Weather.
At four tea,a Christmas Bun!
Crowd in Chit Chat,having Fun.
Grandma ,bakes ,a Christmas Cake
Snowballs,Mince Pies and Fig Dates.
I prepare ten christmas logs,
Cherries,Nuts,Whisky and Chocs,
Yummie Candies,so delicious,
Forget all which is nutritiuos..
Little Crib in every House,
Grandpa dress as Santa Clause,
Presents,granting many wishes,
Christmas Day, so very precious.
Missletoe and Gleaming eyes,
Christmas Carols,Christma Rhymes.
Cosy Eve,Burning Flames of Fire place,
Spicy wood and Indoor games.
Long Processions in the Streets,
all the Door Knobs Hold Gold Wreaths.
Candle lights in Children's hands,
Miss Christmas and Snow men Dance!
All the Nations holding Hands,
War Is Over,Still a Chance!
Many Blessings On Our Lands,
Merry Christmas Super Friends..
Merry Christmas Everyone,
Welcome Home,Enjoy the Fun! :)
(Inspired by Caroline Devonshire)
(Welcome in my picture of Christmas Landia)
Charma
Unfaithful marital transgressions
self admitted indictment,
crime and punishment,
no longer think high lee
entailing no mister re: demeanors,
I searingly weathered
(George by bushed, albeit thankfully,
no unwanted child left behind),
nonetheless one unforgettable
indelible, execrable, and abominable
professedly owned his
civil warring battle of life
transgressions undeservedly heaped
(Uriah hit about that)
(carnal feral hormonally seething
gone astray nightwalks)
woven by basket of deplorable
emotionally painful selfish object lesson
forever etched upon mine psyche
(left by one bobbing sponge -
cheeses crust station of his life
within sea of human life now
affixes moniker re: mister crabs)
inflicted courtesy yours truly
said marital indiscretion (philandering)
one among many issues discussed,
during treatment plan earlier today
February eighteenth 2020
concerning complex edifice
regarding mein kampf
existential bleak house
(figuratively crowded cheek to jowl)
with and hard times
fraught with many
unattained great expectations
unwittingly accepts psychological fallout
(among kissing kith and kin,
a shellfish chicken and hen thing for sure),
despite years elapsed ex post facto
deploying, incorporating, narrating, signifying...
narcissistic, opportunistic, and phlegmatic
self incriminating doom
visualize deus ex machina
betrayal rendered adopted smugness
invariably set in motion domino effect,
whereby emotional alienation
devastation, humiliation, maturation, suppuration
(yoking impossible mission
to shuck off penitence, the price to pay),
thus rightfully, truthfully, and veritably...
ably, readily, and willingly
allowing, enabling, and providing
incomplete resolution, (hence iresolution)
thwarting rancor thy deux daughters
(livingsocial many time zones distant)
embark quest to guide their own
metaphorical maiden voyaging ships of state
countless transpired hours
at counseling facility, where poetic papa
aired and mulled over bothersome
anguish to complete requisite treatment plan
to receive psychiatric appointment
next (and last) Tuesday of February 2020.
Mulled Cider Memories
Santa Claus sees what we
are doing.
We rejoice in grandly...
snow-shoeing.
And, oh we do love our hot,
mulled cider.
Especially next to a warm, cozy,
fire!
Christmas tunes joyfully fill many
a home.
Friends an relatives here, who do
Love us ..and do not roam.
We love each other for who we, as
individuals, truly are.
Freedom lovers, we, one and all,who
sing beneath silver, Christmas stars.
Speaking our truths, behind wreathed
ribboned, decorated doors
Bright eyes that sparkle, arms that hold.
True love carved, in poetic, holiday gold.
12/10/2024
For a month Laurie mulled and brooded,
even tried to think it wasn’t her fault,
if Stan had just told her the things he did
maybe she wouldn’t have left him at all,
but such thoughts were nothing but a stall.
The fault lay entirely on her end,
she’d failed to even try to comprehend.
But finally she summoned her courage
and went down to his small apartment,
she meant to explains the things she did,
but when he answered and she caught his scent
to his lips her own instantly went,
Stan was surprised, but her lust was strong,
so like most men, he just went along.
It wasn’t until after, lying in bed,
rhat the first tears came to her eyes,
He said nothing, just gently stroke her head,
didn’t have to ask what was on her mind,
After several long minutes she cried:
“I now understand why you were hurting,
But it’s too late, I screwed up everything.”
He tried to hug her close in his arms,
but she struggled, pulled herself away,
said,”I’ve tasted of other men’s charms,
and there is nothing that I can say,
what I’ve done deserves only your hate.
there’s no way to go back to what we were then,
for what I did, I can’t be forgiven.”
Stan struggled and said,”So tonight was just you
trying to give me a pleasant ‘so long?’
I don’t buy that, because if it were true,
you wouldn’t be feeling the pain this strong,
would not want forgiveness for your wrong.
You want to still love me, but don’t know how,
unsure if you’ll love the man I am now.”
The words struck her hard, and she stammered,
he just put a soft hand to her lips.
“There is no need to get so bothered,
I think that there’s a solution to this,
I have an idea and this is it:
If some love remains, come back tomorrow,
we’ll take this by the day, and see how it goes.”
Laurie didn’t think that this plan could work,
but she found herself each night coming back,
she didn’t know how he didn’t feel hurt
at the compassion she had lacked,
but every night they’d end up in the sack.
Before long she’d left her apartment,
in fact she never left Stan’s bed again.
Wasn’t long before they called the lawyers,
said they weren’t needed anymore,
Laurie looked back on what they were
and saw glimpses of what was in store,
taking on the demons they abhorred.
Stan wasn’t the same, that much was true,
but no longer was she a cowardly youth…
Our eyes are kindled with the careless spark of a sudden glance.
Few words are spoken, our eyes making a silent dialogue …
Invitation and consent.
Our passion-flame, vivid orange and blue-red,
Heating our blood until, like mulled wine,
It warm-flows.
Our wine-breath is warm and sweet,
Our mouths exchanging hungry kisses
Like greedy children.
Our bodies clinging to one another as if
Close to the precipice, we fear to fall.
Yet relish the thought of falling
In an ever-falling close embrace.
Too soon, from the scorch-blackened earth
Of frenzied and fiery lust
My Phoenix-fear arises.
Fear of engulfment, loss of control,
Guilty longings.
But the spark, the flame is gone.
Merely shadows and embers remain.
Too late.
Sudden strangers, you and I
June 1986
Tradition held sway and little Jesus emerged from the cellar
It had been cold and dusty next to coal and a pile of potatoes
There was no water all year and wine bottles were corked up
For the joy of Christmas celebrations and the feast of the Saviour
He had not seen the light of the day for so long and he longed
For centre stage once again like an angel in lonely retirement
‘Yes’ he shouted ‘this is my nest’ as he emerged with the manger
Tinsel hung on the tree and the ornaments adorned his rebirth
‘Don’t know how Santa Claus avoids the flames but this is my show’
Out of the sheltering wrapper he came and looked at the scene
Three kings gifted the fragrance of perfume and mulled beverage
Children’s eyes glowed liked great balls of fire in anticipation
Of peace love kindness and compassion to emerge with all kin
Even the family cat would not be scolded if she ascended the twigs
The little result of virgin conception could not quite understand
Why he had been confined in his under-croft vault for so long
Was he not the glorious bearer of good tidings not just for a day
Maybe they might feed him a few gingerbread biscuits or a cuppa
And he would make a speech about halting feuds and conflicts
As well as not to feather one’s nest with neighbour’s belongings
But just as he was ready to jump into the cradle he noticed that
His place had been taken by Pinocchio with a broken off nose
30th November
"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas." quote by Laura Ingalls Wilder
In the living room at Granny’s house,
amid cinnamon, hot cocoa, and twinkly lights~
pecans and raisins in her fruitcake, brandy doused.
Fireplace embers glow with light and warmth,
its fire crackling with laughter and love.
‘Tis a time for family, friends, and tidings of good cheer
quietly reflecting upon three wise men and north star above.
Granddad sips slowly from his favorite mug
mulled cider secretly spiked with darkened rum.
We children snuggle next to him beneath Mother’s poinsettia quilt
while eating gingerbread cookies leaving not a crumb.
A band of merry carolers make their way down cobblestone path,
their mittened hands gently tap on the front door.
We fling open the door and join them, joyously singing
Oh Come Let Us Adore…
As Christmas comes and goes,
cherished memories linger, though the years quickly flow.
Yesterday begets today, begets tomorrow it seems,
Christmas memories age like a fine Bordeaux.