Long Overstay Poems
Long Overstay Poems. Below are the most popular long Overstay by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Overstay poems by poem length and keyword.
In the ebb and flow of feelings that is the cycle of my life
I seem to be caught in the spring of my emotions
while winter stalls refusing to take its leave.
Like a bad virus insisting to overstay its welcome
tenacious snow lingers under unrelenting skies of grey
while nippy winds bring rebel clouds and showers.
Entangled in that indecisive in-between of cold and warmth
I’m caught in a no-man’s-land of chrysalid and growth
that ominous period of longing avidly for better climes.
Forever craving the sunshine that would feed my soul
I’m reduced to a withered rosebud desperate for any ray of sun
so I can come to life and feel invigorated.
And so it goes as I ride this roller coaster
of the weather of my emotions.
AP: 2nd place 2025, 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Hello. My name is Spring and I make an appearance every year.
People have often made comments of me like, 'Spring is in the air'.
For Daylight Saving Time, many will say 'Fall back and Spring forward'.
Well, they can say that, but sometimes I am early and other times late.
Sometimes, Old Man Winter hangs around too long, taking up my 'air space'.
And sometimes, I can't wait to 'Spring forward', attempting to push him aside.
That's right my friend, there is more going on up there than meets the eye.
And when cold clashes with heat, especially in my season, there's always
trouble in the sky. And usually, when there's trouble in the sky, it's not long before there's trouble on the ground. I might show up before I am officially
due or I may come after I'm due. It's another way of saying that I might be in the air but not on the ground in your neck of the woods. I may be in the air, but you do not see, hear, or even feel me. You take this winter of 2019 for example. I don't rightly know what's going on out here, and I don't know how long Mr. Winter is going to last, but things are definitely much different.
Anyway, I want to say that each of us seasons has to show up and do our job, and I'm hoping that, as you might be also, Mr. Winter does not overstay or infringe upon my responsibilities. I have to show up on time to restore life, create beauty, and get things growing again. I can't do that if Mr. Winter wears out his welcome, and it is absolutely unthinkable to try pushing him around because he's much stronger than I. So whereas I might be in the air, I might also be there cold and covered in snow, just waiting my turn.
03052019PoSoupContest, Spring Is In The Air, Emile Pinet
I’m flabbergasted at how the streets are thronged
Could You be the one for whom twelve years I’ve longed?
Oh say, a Physician like no other before seen?
Different from the kind to where I had been?
Could Your timing have been more impeccable?
And Your approach be more unbelievable?
But I’ll undoubtedly put the last of my trust in You
I have much to lose, yes, indeed that’s true
But out of options I’ve finally run
And now even money, I truly have none
So I will find my way to your garment
So You can put an end to this bloody ailment
With an old blood-stained dress
I start out and on I press
I hurry through the deafeningly noisy crowd
Each one giving a careless, yet imploring shout
And it feels like You move further
With every step I take to get closer
“Please, if You are the Saviour”, I think,
“help me to press on, for I’m at the brink
Of breaking down, about to forfeit
I’m helplessly at the mercy of defeat.”
Not only will I touch your garment
But You will make my life to Your goodness a testament
Finally, after pushing past the multitude, I see an open space
To my advantage, in the other direction, is turned His face
Unworthy I am, so I really do not have to talk to Him
All I truly need to do is swiftly touch His hem
The hem of the Saviour’s garment, that’s all I really need
And then from this sickening bondage of blood I’ll be freed
I touch His garment, and it really was not my intention
To in any way catch the Saviour’s attention
I find it strange that no change in me I see
Until that mysterious Physician spots me
And confirms soothingly to my soul
“…thy faith hath made thee whole.”
So not only will I touch the hem of Your garment swiftly
But I will praise You from the bottom of my heart sweetly
Not only will I touch the hem of Your garment as I said I would
But I will ever bear in my heart of hearts to my Saviour gratitude
Not only will I touch the hem of Your garment, but strife
I will, as I hold onto You, Lord, for dear life
Not only will I touch the hem of Your garment with my finger
But in Your presence I will overstay my welcome and persistently linger
Not only will I touch the hem of Your garment as scary
As it may seem, I will cling to You, oh, loving and lovable Redeemer of Calvary
There's no reason for me to think
that the four seasons run wild and free.
There's a God out there, and He's in charge.
Sure, every season has a mind of its own,
and each knows exactly where she belongs.
Moreover, they feel right at home with all they do.
Each may inadvertently cross its boundaries, but all
things being equal, they are tolerant of each other.
My favorite season is Autumn, and she is somewhat
different than her sister Spring, who brings life but is
quite often late on arrival. Autumn tends to be softer
and brings a healing touch. And I think she's calmer
than both Summer and Winter.
Those two siblings can be a bit mean and overstay their
welcome. I think that Autumn is reliable and steady, and
most likely to live up to the expectations of others. She's
graceful and not likely to come with bells and whistles.
That's because she tones things down, not up.
Summer starts her demise, having sung her songs.
Winter is restless, but Autumn stares back and keeps her calm.
She then informs the trees, preparing them for color changes.
They won't tell you, but trees themselves sometime get bored
with green. They know that the colors in Autumn are much
more photogenic, and they can't wait.
Cameras are prepping, and the leaves on the trees are salivating,
because they know that they will be proudly staging before long.
Monarch butterflies, having enjoyed the summer, are presently
setting their compass south toward Mexico. No, birds are not headed
south just yet, but they are thinking about their long flight south.
081422PS
My memory caress your day;
With wide open arms,
We embrace the day's brief touch...
My handshake's will, overstay;
With Wide open arms,
We stroke each other's back such...
My eyes survey your look;
With Wide open lens,
We both learn of the difference!
My gaze weighs such feat on hook;
With wide open lens,
We knew of growth's past reference.
Regards to how well we come....
With wide open hope,
Of how far trials go cum grace.
Wisdom silently waltz thumb,
With Wide open hope,
That favour will run our race.
My touch that long for you, friend-
With Wide open joy;
Feels how words burn down ego.
With peace and pain, we all blend;
With wide open joy,
Presence and of letting go:
Presence massage weary time,
With wide open drink...
Letting go brings distant vibe.
We shall celebrate great climb;
With wide open drink,
More than what words could describe.
When next we meet, insha God;
With wide open praise,
Everyone would testify-
To His goodness in our squad,
With wide open praise...
Of good things feats beautify.
AMEN!
triolets
Poured a cup of coffee and softened it with cream
I hug a romance novel, first chapter's underway
Hubby's gone a fishin', a long way off downstream
poured a cup of coffee and softened it with cream.
Couch is comfy-cozy, the time I must redeem -
kids are off at granny's with hopes to overstay.
Poured a cup of coffee and softened it with cream,
I hug a romance novel, first chapter's underway.
Waking from a deep snooze, the book is on the floor;
head has found a pillow, my mantle keeps me warm.
Coffee cup has vanished, oh my, it's half-past four.
Waking from a deep snooze, the book is on the floor.
Hubby's making supper, I see him at the door
bringing soup and sandwich with chocolate cake to charm.
Waking from a deep snooze, the book is on the floor;
head has found a pillow, my man'll keep me warm.
March 28, 2013
a mantle = a covering, a loose sleeveless cloak or shawl, worn especially by women.
There comes that day, inevitable day
when God will have had enough.
When His promises, humans overstay
hence, He will have his rebuff.
God's covenants come with a consequence
as we humans play the fool.
His forgiveness appraises disobedience;
and He governs with sovereign rule.
Is it selfish to pray, "Lord, Jesus, come
to take your children home"?
Such brings the destruction of earth's kingdom;
yet shall tribulation convert some?
Away with the pretense of our praise;
God knows the song of our hearts,
His justice rolls as the rivers raise,
judgment will stream as His Spirit departs.
Need a cuddle, are you available?
I promise not to linger too long
Maybe seven, maybe eight hours or so
Maybe until the break of dawn
Just enough time to satisfy my craving
That haunts me day and night
Gonna wind up in the bin for loonies
If I can't taste your sweet delights
Need a cuddle, please say you're available
To take me to heaven's door
I promise not to overstay my welcome
Till eternity, not a moment more
Sure must've done something quite heroic
To deserve your tender sweet love
Can't think of what it could have been
But you've given my heart a shove
Succumbed to your sweet delicate beauty
So many many years ago
The flame's stayed alive for all this time
Still making this old heart glow
Need a cuddle, are you available?
I promise not to linger too long
Just an eternity plus a couple of lifetimes
Or infinity filled with love songs
Need a cuddle, are you available?
Promise not to linger too long
Perhaps seven or possibly eight hours
Maybe till the break of dawn
Enough time to satisfy this craving
That lingers day and night
Soon gonna wind up in the loony bin
If I can't taste your sweet delights
Need a cuddle, are you available?
To take me to heaven's door
Promise not to overstay my welcome
Till eternity, not a moment more
Must've done something, don't know what
To deserve your tender love
Can't think of what it could have been
But you've given my heart a shove
Succumbed to your delicate beauty
Many many years ago
The flame's stayed alive for all this time
Still making this old heart glow
Need a cuddle, are you available?
Promise not to linger too long
Maybe an eternity plus ten lifetimes
An eternity filled with song
© Jack Ellison 2013
So what's your status,
Nimbostratus?
Are you here to stay, like old Aunt Gladys?
- To rain and rain until we're glad it's
Not for you to own the day,
But eventually must fade away
Before the steady strugglings of the sun
Which must break through once they've begun
To tear apart your greyish gloom
And give the sunlight proper room
To push along those friendly, fluffy clouds
Through blue skies where you're not allowed.
So go thy way, ignoble cloud!
Carry off that misty shroud
Below which you have so confined us,
And let us put thy wet behind us
And revel in the newborn sun,
It's warmth welcome to everyone.
You overstay your station here
Far beyond what would appear
A decent spate of soft rainfall;
Your prescence doth begin to pall
When you hover close from day to day.
All caught beneath wish you away,
And confer on you non-gratis status,
O aggravating nimbostratus!