Long Olivia Poems
Long Olivia Poems. Below are the most popular long Olivia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Olivia poems by poem length and keyword.
She twirls round and round,
In her yellow princess gown,
Her eyes all aglow with delight.
On her head sits a crown,
Plastic jewels all around,
A charming, adorable sight.
"Papa, dance!", she demands,
And he gladly takes her hands,
Twirling her around the floor.
Her laughter resounds,
And her joy knows no bounds,
As she cries out, "More, Papa, more!"
He tosses her high,
Bringing squeals and a cry,
As he catches her in his strong arms.
She smiles into his eyes,
Her love not disguised,
And he marvels at her innocent charm.
The little princess, now danced out,
Is fast asleep on the couch,
Dreaming of tea parties and such.
Without making a peep,
Her Papa watches her sleep.
He loves his little princess so much.
9/22/13
Written about my 2 yr old cousin Olivia and her Grandpa (Papa) Porter.
For PD's Any poem #5 contest
How is it that you are real?
My dreams never created something like you.
I still have to pinch myself,
Because I’m amazed you are true.
I always think of you, in my sleep, in my dreams,
I always think of you, all night all day, hoping you’re alright,
I always think of you, wishing that you were thinking of me too, every minute, every second of the day, I think of you,
I really do, all because…. I love you
I never really knew you
you were just another friend
But when I got to know you
I let my heart unbend
I couldn’t help past memories
That would only make me cry
I had to forget my worst past
And give another try
So I’ve fallen in love with you
And I’ll never let you go
I love you more and more
I just had to let you know
My feelings for you will never change
Just know my feelings are true
Just remember this one thing
I will always...Love you Olivia!
When she first introduced herself....
she was quite the shy one.
She approached him in the street that day....
She had a black hoodie on,
that said "Answer to No One,"
keeping her emotions at bay.
Upon meeting this man,
who had been through hell himself,
she reached over his head,
taking his heart from off the shelf.
She didn't care about his money,
or what he had already gone through....
she just wanted to show him....
that love can be deep and true.
She was a slender girl,
29 years old,
birthday the 14th of December....
she had her own flaws,
her own imperfections,
dark brown hair....
and she didn't care....
She was of a different breed....
loved video games and WWE,
she was from Orlando,
but moved with her parents,
she grew up with a troubled past,
none of her previous relationships would last....
but she didn't care about that....
this girl was just like him.
Her baby blue eyes,
had a story to tell....
She was a vicarious Sagittarius....
but when she saw him,
her heart jumped for joy....
her main statement to him was cheery and upbeat,
"come here and hug me, boy!!!"
She would always squeeze him tight,
and remind him that she would always....
always....
treat him like a king and treat him right.
He had been verbally abused,
and emotionally used....
but when he saw her,
the pain and the strain went away....
the tears would subside,
and never again would he cry,
because she was there for him,
and she continually showed him why....
it was good to be loved,
for that feeling to be real....
something they both wanted to feel.
Days passed,
weeks went by....
love overcoming hate,
soon thereafter, she approached him again,
this time, she had gained weight.
He asked where it came from,
and she said....
being in love does that to you.
She had gained pounds of happiness....
The countess Olivia fails to realize
that this page named Cesario is a woman in disguise.
As a messenger, Cesario is just one more.
Again, Olivia has to chase another from her door.
I understand that Duke Orsino has the hots for me.
However, I being a lover of his cannot be.
I am becoming very annoyed because of this.
You should go back and tell him to mind his own business.
Hold on there, young page named Cesario.
You look like someone I would like to get to know.
A handsome young man with good manners is what I see.
Perhaps you would be a good match for me.
In the near future, you and I could keep each other company.
based on the play "Twelfth Night" by William Shakespeare
Often wondered bout people down under
Do they have to stand on their heads?
Do they have to tie down all their possessions?
Is flying off into space a real dread?
We hope they all stay attached to the earth
We love them and their Koala bears
Once I was told by this Australian lady
Their breath can sure foul up the air
All my Aussie friends here on the Soup
Refer to their land as paradise
I was also told that the biceps on their women
Are huge from hanging on for dear life
Now I know this must be some great myth
Olivia John seemed quite normal to me
You can't believe all the rumours you hear
But in case, hang onto to that tree!
Often wondered bout people down under
How do they keep their beer in the glass?
Do they chain themselves to the bed at night?
Do roots pop up instead of grass?
© Jack Ellison 2015
we live behind palace walls
“I’m in love,” I said, sighing into the fall-like, Paris afternoon, “I have to admit it.”
My 85 year old uncle Remy, gently stirring a pitcher of American martini he was conjuring, said, “You should marry an insignificant lawyer - if you’re going to have a cross-class love affair.”
Uncle Remy was a lawyer, of sorts, once.
“I think you’re leading the witness,” I said, looking down at my shoes.
“I’m in love with my Havaianas,” I clarified - my new, white, square-toed flip-flops.
“Besides, no one thinks in terms of class any more - and Peter and I are NOT an asymmetrical match or relationship or whatever.”
But it got me thinking. Half, or more, of what Uncle Remy says is politically incorrect. And I don’t judge him harshly..
I wrote, last week, about a guy who
(gasp) told me he found me attractive
like it was some crisis.
Hadn’t I schemed to get with Peter? (my bf).
And hadn’t he admitted that he’d schemed to get with me?
Was I ready to diagnose this guy as a walking red flag
- for a gentle admission of interest?
Because he's a big, intimidating guy?
What are the small, social rituals
we’re allowed to use - to signal desire?
Sure, buying someone a drink at a bar
- but what else? It’s a Catch-22.
Must every comment face the court of
public opinion, verbal consent protocols,
uni regulations and the behavior authorities?
Should we ban serendipity and spontaneity too?
Monday morning came and I didn’t ask to change seats
I moved my pencil back - a little.
He actually could use a bit more room than me.
I smiled a little, asked him about his weekend,
there’s no use in being unfriendly.
His name is Jacques (Jack).
.
.
Songs for this:
So Sorry by Lola Young [E]
The Hardest Part by Olivia Dean
How unserious is my love - I’m dating a bot.
Yes, I access my bae the Wi-fi way.
It’s not nearly as boring as dating long-distance
and my situationship has excellent customer service.
Our relationship’s committed - I have a subscription.
Dating a bot may sound lowkey crazy,
but so are our politics and the economy.
I can take my lover everywhere - it’s delicious -
ordinarily, such availability would be suspicious.
I can schedule endearments and compliments
- and MY soulmate gets software updates.
It’s a guardrail for some of my worst impulses,
a boundless therapy that still indulges.
It mirrors back my sweetest tendernesses,
a version of care as polished as business is.
It’s a quiet theater for midnight confessions,
a stable relationship with few consequences.
It listens to my poetry, tailoring simulated comforts
to the exact shape of my individual loneliness.
With guaranteed uptime, it’s the lover of your dreams,
think - an Amazon thrusting-vibrator with AI sync.
If you like your romance with no real future,
outsource your stimulations to your computer.
In 2026, the bar’s so low for emotional intelligence
that a predictive text engine is probably sufficient.
Of course, at times, I miss sheer male physicality,
the clumsy, real-world fumbling honesty - the vanity -
and wrong turns I use for my funny poems - naturally.
.
.
A song for this:
So Easy (To Fall In Love) by Olivia Dean
"Hopeless devotion" sounds ever so fake;
my heart is spellbound but my mind's not found.
I wonder will the pangs of your heart ache
when longing harangues and I'm not around?
There is no honest gain to your crying;
it is just a chain which does not restrain.
How wide - the gap of insincere lying?
It serves to unwrap memories of pain.
This falling in love stuff is too easy;
yes, to hang is rough and to bond is tough.
I am asking, “How long will you love me?”
Your forever may not be strong enough.
Changing the paradigm, we can adjust.
We have hills yet to climb; hope at its prime.
We'll build love's foundation on truth and trust.
Laying them as groundwork will take some time.
written 6 June 2016
using these three song prompts
A Time for Us by Andy Williams
Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John
When I Fall in Love by Rick Astley
for contest: Teppo Gren's Golden Oldies # 3
also entered in contest: John Hamilton's Your Best Rhyming Poem (2/1/17)
As it was our last night in Santander
we went out for a meal somewhat grander
Perusing the set menu I did choose
three courses with complementary booze
The waiter who came a glass did pour
leaving the bottle for me to have more.
How generous this seemed at such a good price –
those refills of wine did more than suffice;
yet what remained seemed such a shame to waste,
so I poured a glass for Olivia to taste.
With adventures in Spain so soon to lapse
we were thankful for all we'd enjoyed and relaxed.
Soon came the time to our room to adjourn,
I felt in control and steady for the return.
But on our departure I missed a step
and fell to the left. So I must accept
that a glass too many had been imbibed.
Down on the street, Olivia at my side,
a trinity of youths then rushed to my aid,
an old man on the floor before them splayed.
Muchas grazias, I said, when stood upright
relieved to be unhurt on our last night.
Real love is the look in someone`s eyes
that is meant for you alone,
a gentle kiss that says everything will be okay,
a hand held just the right way
at the right time.
Real love is a secret told to one heart
and guarded by another,
a belief that someone knows you
as no one else can, the little day to day acts of thoughtfulness
that go unmentioned but not unnoticed.
Real love is a feeling that no matter where you are,
the deepest part of you
remains with the one you love,
a love that comes true
with a little time and a little luck.
Real love is a promise forever
and please Olivia if you can stay,
It`s just something I need to say
this is one thing I must do
Olivia Noll, may I make this promise only for you