Long Nearby Poems
Long Nearby Poems. Below are the most popular long Nearby by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nearby poems by poem length and keyword.
Listen to the trees laughing in delight,
as brisk breezes tickle their leaves at night.
And watch fireflies signaling love with light
that they flicker on and off, while in flight,
creating a somewhat surreal sight.
As twilight tints alabaster clouds pink,
a scarlet sun silently starts to sink.
Shadows merge; as the sun begins to shrink
and day darkens, for Dusk is on the brink.
A crescent moon rises in the night sky
a silver sickle to the naked eye;
whose beauty's impossible to deny.
Trillions of stars slowly reveal their face,
peeking through the ebony veil of space.
And daylight awaits Dawn's rebirth of light.
Nature dons a tiara of bright stars,
as silhouettes absorb night's blackest ink.
And the sound of crickets chirping nearby,
stridulating for mates hidden in place,
signifies the change from dusk into night.
My parties have become pretty lean
Ever since onset of Covid nineteen
No more passing around fine liquor
drinking alone, in a hall of mirrors
A new reality from behind thin veils
Masks and gloves, my themed masquerade
Radio on ‘Move Closer’ gives me shivers
smooching alone, in a hall of mirrors
I’m a one man band, on my record player
Listening to the sole voice, of Leo Sayer
Drowning in misery, a beached orca killer
singing drunkenly, in a hall of mirrors
Switch on the TV, looking for distraction
Silent movie on, some guy named Chaplin
Enough charades, echoes growing dimmer
talking to myself, in a hall of mirrors.
Something catches the corner of my eye
A headline in a newspaper, lying nearby
Vaccine found, life’s suddenly less grimmer
Praying on my knees, to broken mirrors.
PARTY FOLK Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
28/12/2020
The Chicken Coop
Down on Farmer Brown’s poultry farm
Amongst the Barns and the old cowsheds no longer used
A bunch of Chickens run around in fear
Dashing about looking all confused
Loud clucking is all you hear
It’s all because a nasty vicious fox is in the neighbourhood
So they are in fear of their lives, panic sets in
Until Mr Brown’s old Alsatian dog Buster
Starts barking making such a din
He is used to scaring off vermin
That is his main job after all
The chickens all feel safe again
Now Buster is there standing tall
Mavis Mr Brown’s lady wife
Comes to collect the morning eggs
Like she’s done so all her married life
The two of them have been together for nearly fifty years
Through thick and thin they have seen it all
But farming is the only life they know
Dealing with problems together however big or small
The Chickens have settled down again
Now the fox has been made to disappear
The old rather large old Rhode Island Red Cockerel
Is now strutting his stuff with his bright colours all on show never fear
He really is a show off and creates a rather loud din
When he crows early when the mornings get light
He wakes everyone nearby with his loud racket
Old Buster gets quite an early morning fright
He would rather be awakened buy lots of Girls and Boys
The local primary school does day trips to the farm
So they can see all the animals and chase the chickens
But Buster always makes sure that they don’t come to any harm
They love it when the chicks have hatched
All running around the chicken run
They squawk and jump around a lot
They seen to have such fun
It’s nice to think that children enjoy
Seeing how a Chicken Farm is run
And how much noise a Rooster can make
From morning to the setting Sun
Woke up this morn with sunbeams on the wall
and smiled to see no rain was on the way!
From opened window, heard a Robin call-
and knew a perfect day was on display.
And, then at once, my mind did turn away
to realize agendaless I was!
Exuberance took over in applause!
Today, I'll walk the countryside in bliss
enjoying nature sans my workday laws-
and stresses from to-do lists- will not miss!
A leisure shower- then my coffee done,
the nearby bubbling stream now beckons me.
I watch the ripples glowing in the sun
cascading over rocks- a splashing spree!
Then, in the distance sunflowers, I see-
their golden faces swaying in the breeze,
along with dancing reeds of willow trees.
Exuberant, I join in nature's dance!
Agendaless, this day is sure to please-
enjoying this uplifting happenstance!
November 5, 2021
Premiere Contest: Agendaless Exuberance
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Syllables- PS Syllable Counter
Rhymes- RhymeZone
Hank was a hard workin' cowpoke who really earned his meager pay.
He rode his ass Old Red from early dawn 'til at night he hit the hay,
Fixin' fences, ropin' steers and brandin' dogies in the old corral,
But he had an odd addiction that gnawed on his pard's morale!
He was a happy yodler which is alright fer a wrangler I suppose,
But his irritatin' warblin' caused him to nearly come to blows!
At night in the bunkhouse he would even yodel in his sleep,
Addin' to the din of his pals who were known fer snorin' deep!
His yodelin' caused cattle to stampede and hosses to buck and neigh.
Caused chickens to cease layin' aigs and cantankerous mules to bray!
Porkers squealed in their sty and the hounds barked and howled,
His comrades raged and cussed and the cats all hissed and yowled!
Even rattlesnakes were flustered and slithered to hide in dens,
And bands of coyotes skulked to seek cover in the nearby fens.
Frenzied birds vacated their cozy nests and fled to distant climes,
And Cookie got upset since the guys couldn't hear his supper chimes!
The grizzled old ranch boss called Hank aside fer a serious session,
Sayin', "Son, you're creatin' havoc 'round hyar with yer damn obsession!
Take yer ass and yodler to swoon the gals at the Dry Gulch Saloon,
'Cause if'n you keep it up 'round hyar, you'll hit the road and soon!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
I stand in the center of an ocean of wheat,
shimmering from the wind like ocean waves.
The clouds, the sky, the sun, the colors of the fields
and the touch of the warm gentle breeze.
The wild flowers and trees bordering the land,
the red earth blowing with the wind.
The sound of water from nearby streams,
ease life’s burdens away in a flash.
The vast openness of distant horizons,
as the gold heads rattle with the wind.
The red-tailed hawks squawk in the sky,
the sand-hill cranes head for a pond.
The cows graze on lush green beauty,
as I stand in a field with pen in hand.
This is the beauty I am blessed with,
whether my eyes are closed or open.
Ever heard of the beautiful Ohio?
The writer in me wants you to know -
River life has its anecdotes
My granny, a German immigrant,
mastered that river in dinghy boats
to attend a Lutheran church.
I've crossed its waves on a raft that floats.
The writer in me wants you to know -
My father conquered the Ohio
on a ferryboat two times a day.
Except... when April rains closed the floodwall.
Then his carpool drove seventy miles one way
to cross on the next nearest bridge
in not-so-nearby Owensville Bay.
The Ohio River changes its flow.
The writer in me wants you to know.
My grandpa walked it in the depth of winter's freeze;
my grandkids explore its fossils in summer's drought.
Swimming it upstream is not an easy breeze
but its muddy shores hold childhood treasure.
It's where we teens met with our main squeeze.
August 14, 2021
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Your Favorite Rhyme Poem in August 2021
Love is found when least expected. … by poet
Rudolph was strolling along a winding countryside lane,
humming a love tune. The clear sky shone bright, and merrily
bright birds were twittering as they flew from tree to tree,
whilst a brook was bubbling as it wended its way
to a river that flowed nearby. Still Rudolph was dejected.
Love, alas, had passed him by. Nature failed to attract him.
Despite his meanderings around the surrounding countryside,
he had not found his soul mate to make his life complete.
He was particular in his requirements, seeking perfection.
Suddenly, he took a different path towards the wide river.
There sitting under a willow tree, strumming a guitar
Rudolph saw the most beautiful woman of his life
Her eyes were closed, but Rudolph instinctively knew
they would be verdant like the grass she was squatting on.
Her golden tresses fell in gentle curls, her red lips inviting.
Could he have found his angel on earth?
Placed 1
"Has solitude ever led your steps down a forest path . . . "
Quote by Constance La France
On a beautiful afternoon, seeking solitude
I set out on a trek to the nearby woods
Except my camera, intentionally picked up
I hadn’t carried with me any other thing
All along, I saw wildflowers and strange herbs
And paused to take pictures, but kept moving
No doubt, it was a rewarding experience
The lure of the unknown seemed bewitching
From the cluster of flowers on a sprawling tree
The wind wafted a rare exotic smell divine
I heard the twitter of chirping sparrows
And could spot large squirrels with bushy tails
Proceeding further, heard a gurgling sound
It must be a small cataract, I did suppose
My guess was right. It fell off a rock running into a stream
With murmur enough to lull one to sweet sleep
Close to the falls, I went frolicking in mist
Splashes of water vapor, making me pleasantly wet
The whistle of a quail fell in my ears
And the rhythm of the tapping of a woodpecker
Also, the creaking of dry leaves under my feet
Sounds so familiar to any forest trekker
Feeling happy over my progress without a hitch
Listening to the soft cajoling of birds,
And the confused drone of honeybees,
I walked playfully stamping on the dried-up leaves
That moaned painfully under my feet.
Passing fragrant cedar trees and tall growing pines,
I roamed for long enjoying the beauty of the woods
Amid the multitude of trees and the flora and fauna
My spirit felt a deep solitude, I couldn’t explain
Though I longed to explore more into its hidden pockets
I saw the slanting rays of the setting sun
And quickened my way home before darkness invaded
Feeling quite happy and at peace with myself !
Nov.16.2022
~ Placed First~
Writing Challenge “V” forms Poetry Contest
Sponsor. Constance La France
HEAVEN THROUGH THE EYES
Won't you tell me places called heaven on earth?
for so long, so long, I tried to search and search
Come east. Come west. North to south, I all reach.
my quest began since day of my birth. . .
It's pre-historic palaeolithic age, this beautiful place
Karnataka's architecture amidst it's greenery.
Heaven through my eyes seeing such scenery
to walk it's ground my thoughts gently grace.
Meandering many miles from a dripping spring,
the Fraser River in it's glory catches my eye,
heaven through my eyes as I stand nearby
to hear it's lapping waters as it sings.
This magnificent fissure, one of earth's abyss,
the Grand Canyon on the Colorado Plateau.
Heaven through my eyes, in erosion flow
resided the ancient Pueblo whom lived in bliss.
Supple strong arms cradle me from harm
Salty tears they slowly fall, to flood
cracking gradually sadness that long clog
Heaven reveal to my eyes your charm
behold thee not by a necklace of glitter
but a love so peaceful and oh so tender
that 'til this life is through I'll remember
no longer do I want ever be shut!
as all these infuse in me reasons to smile
and again take a look at yellow horizons
with it's curly shaped clouds white and some blue
Heaven is revealed to my eyes by the presence of you!
Evergreen leaves so lush cluster among trees
Daisies, magnolias, orchids they paint a beauty
Ocean blue touch the sea's face of purity
Heaven through my eyes displayed for free!
Beyond this life, beyond this whole wide world--
do you believe a place called heaven up there?
If you do, won't you tell me a clue to exactly know where
and what to do for so long, so long there I like to curl?
© O. E. Guillermo and J. A. Fraser .1.00 pm, December 26, 2014