Long Oohs Poems
Long Oohs Poems. Below are the most popular long Oohs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Oohs poems by poem length and keyword.
The soil and my wallet was exceedingly poor
Like building a house without any door
My garden needs flowers but nothing would grow
People were coming to visit the show
So I planted some pips looked like speckeldy seed
Compliments were flying as did those trumpeting bells
Just when I thought that no one could tell
" Sir this is not Beaumontia Grandiflora"
Said a nerdy old lady surrounded in aura
White flowers enhanced by the backdrop of green
Stopped oohs and aahs and the Parisienne perfume
" ..best looking Jamestown weed that I have ever seen"
Stuck like syrup on my fingers somewhat in between
The rainbow needs a new name.
What it should be I don’t know.
Its name before Babel surely a song.
Shimmering, glistening, magical thing!
Outlandishly colored, and elusive.
Common and yet somehow rare.
Momentary, yet ancient.
Its power only doubted when hidden.
In its presence we are left without words.
Brilliant men utter only oohs and aah’s.
At times we can’t help but cry
because of water vapor?
Tiny droplets suspended untethered!
Explained and still incomprehensible!
Artists paint in vain upon their canvas.
Their work trite, opaque and flat,
a ridiculous cartoon.
If pictures with their renown power fail,
how can we tell of the leaping inside?
Hint of another realm we all suspect
Like joyous recognition!
For all this we say, “rainbow.”
Mama's in the kitchen cooking up a storm,
Turkey's in the oven and the house is toasty warm.
Kids are running through the house playing with their toys;
Mama tells them "Keep it down! You're making too much noise."
Daddy's in the living room staying out of Mama's way.
He's waiting to watch the football games scheduled for today.
Grandma and Grandpa are now pulling in the drive,
And behind them all the other guests have arrived.
Hugs and kisses are dispersed - no one will be left out.
Family and friends gathering together is what Thanksgiving is about.
Oohs and aahs of appreciation echo amongst the guests,
At the heavenly aromas in the air from the food about to be blessed.
Holding hands around the table they bow their heads to pray,
Thanking God for His abundant blessings and for the food this day.
Each one takes their turn declaring what they are thankful for.
Hearts are full of love and cheer, who could ask for more?
11/18/21
~~^~~
The courtroom sat in silence as if issuing a dare,
a mountain and a hillside told each other to beware
The judge was in his chamber with the deputy in charge,
they couldn’t hear the little hill claim it was very large
A ticking clock was counting as the minutes slowly passed,
darkened by the shadow that the mountain’s girth did cast
Things were getting very tense, the temperature did rise,
as the mountain and the little hill compared each other’s size
Suddenly from in the hall another did appear,
walking through the courtroom door and it was very clear
All the people turned to look, the oohs and ahs did sound,
for there they saw a valley that made all of them look 'round
The valley said in echoes “What’s the meaning of this fight?
It matters not how big or small, it doesn’t make you right
I wouldn’t be a valley if this mountain didn’t hide
and not without a little hill there on my other side
I need you both to get along so everyone can see,
how beautiful we all become with you two here with me”
The mountain then said to the hill, “I think you’re very tall”
And in response the hill replied, “And you’re not oh so small”
The three of them then went outside, the people wore a grin,
for they could see the beauty formed by nature once again
there is a moral here…
(Hint: It is not the title)
marvelous, they burst.
we are immersed in the fun.
our conjugal thirst,
meeting of the minds, rehearsed.
spectacular spectators traversed
over many July holidays. some, coerced.
delightful, at first being honeymooners.
with three kids, became submersed. the work!
happiness interspersed.
in the end it is all good at the worst,
because we are not dead. we are living not cursed.
though dealing with quite a few of an outburst -
which one of us hasn’t blown our top, had a cloudburst!
we are nursed by the fireworks,
thoroughly conversed quiet now, except for oohs and ahhs.
magic of memories, well versed.
7/1/2023
The comic chases laughter; bright applause beneath bright lights.
Each joke returns with cheers, sparkling with flared highlights.
The poet casts quiet braided fly-lines into uncertain free air,
Not knowing where they'll settle, trusting someone to find them there.
Laughter often arrives on cue before another punchline starts.
The comic plays the audience, outwitting the many clever upstarts.
The poet leans into the silence, hoping words reach waiting hearts.
They both treasure every thud and thump from well-flung verbal darts.
The comic trims each story into punchlines, sharp and strong.
The poet weaves in small clues and prompts, inviting readers along.
One, harvests roaring raucous applause, that fills every room.
The other, sows small seeds, expecting next spring flowers, will bloom.
The comic reaps the harvest well before the last laughter dies.
A joke can miss completely, falling flat in befuddled ears and eyes.
A poet keeps on casting many more lines, despite the lows and highs.
Awakening lost memories, with hushed oohs, ahhs, and silent sighs.
Of course there's slam, where poets chase applause with a spoken or sung flame.
Their verses leap from silent sullen pages, eager to stake their claim.
The crowd joins in with cheers and snaps, each heartbeat keeping time.
Half stand-up act, half-hand crafted verse — both reaching for the sublime.
sunny skies of blue, two hearts to be joined as one, before God and man
A small bouquet of white roses, their heady fragrance reached my nose.
I was remembering the one he gave me on the night he knelt to propose.
Now here we are, months later, surrounded by all the people who care.
The only person that mattered to me was the man whose life I'd share.
I walked between a sea of many friendly faces, but I was hardly aware
of the 'oohs' and 'ahhs' I heard about later, for all I could do was stare
at my handsome groom, soon to be my beloved for the rest of my life.
You bowed as I drew near. What a lucky woman am I to be your wife.
We heard the words the minister was saying, but it was hard to listen.
We shared a smile with each other, while in our eyes tears did glisten.
When asked if you would take me, I felt you gently squeeze my hand
and in that moment no one else knew what only we could understand.
Our lives led us to each other, on the same path we began as friends,
and now exchange wedding bands in a marriage where love never ends.
A sweet kiss that lingered for a moment while your arms drew me near,
down the aisle we walked together while our friends and family cheer.
Plans for the wedding and our future was the day's perfect culmination
but only the beginning of our lives together. A love worthy of celebration.
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February 23rd 2016 My Wedding Contest by: Olive and James
At first I wondered if all things have been said
already, spent
by poets of the past. They stole our words.
We found them stashed. We rearranged, often
deranged the lines with slash marks and nonsense.
Death was pretty back then
before we hid, behind
the nettles of windows and doors.
The lowering of a casket, not too many urns.
Burning the night
oil and the sound of ravens -
a door knocker that eerily caws.
The cause of writing strong with true feelings
that crawl up one’s spine, teeth that deeply plunge
into the carotid. The festering of sores
Upon palms and heels. Worn
out pages with feather quills and ink blots
cold and alone in the night squats.
The tender rendering of a seagull and a ghost.
A captain that is bearded and robust. The tales
of blind mice and braided hair; and children
with no coded habitat. They curl up
at your feet, next to the roaring fire
of your speech and devour each word
like curds and honey. Honey,
that is sweet. You buzz with excitement
as you leap off each cliff, hang-gliding.
The tummies of development,
in the youth, filled. Likewise their mouths
form oohs and ahhs; and good girls and boys
laugh and weep. They kick the dust
as they follow their own paths home -
imagination goes wild like a frenzy of bees,
their nest disturbed with a poking branch.
The lustful sweet tooth, aflame - a story
takes shape climbing a lighthouse or tower
into the ears, mouths, eyes and brain.
Already spent, nonsense! Say what you have
to say, from sun to sun. Poet speak!
3/19/2023
the quilting festival is an event where grandma lingers.
Her friends are there – Mag, Charlene and Mrs. Fingers.
They try to pretend it is not a competition at all.
But they drag their secrets outside in the middle of fall.
Oh, my, I never saw that red and green one before!
Gram says to Mrs. McDiggins, the Irish gal next door.
McDiggins is grinning like a sailor who is in his cups.
I thought I had shown it to you she fibs to McGupps.
Their masterpieces on display, they watch everyone’s fingers.
Dirty nails and palms had better not stay to paw, touch or linger.
They want the oohs and aahs but they want their work pristine.
Gram comes home every year bragging she is the “quilting queen”.
There is no point
If you have ‘been there, done that’
Unless you announce so loudly
On social sites
Show the proof of
The ‘Happy Family’ moments
You see, enjoying those moments
At that very instance
Is secondary
It is all about looking ahead
Thinking of the future
And this is just the beginning
Because now you
Have to check, every now and then
Those comments
Of your friends
Their mushy remarks
‘Oohs’ and ‘Aahs’
Literally dripping their love for you
These bring back the twinkle in your
Sleep deprived eyes
And instantly uplift
Your travel weary selves
If you do not get a response
From someone specific
And you want to know
Whether he is dead or alive
All you have to do is
‘Poke’ him
His reaction, a ‘thumbs up’ will
Give you the same satisfaction
As a complete meal on a hungry stomach
And your daughter will tell you
‘Now, it has all been worth it’
Your ‘Thank you’ replies
To hundreds such comments
Are bound to keep you busy
For weeks to come
So much for our craving
For some ‘social recognition’
If not in the real world
Then at least in the virtual one
Where no great achievements
Are needed to get those
‘Rewarding’ comments