Long Picnic Poems
Long Picnic Poems. Below are the most popular long Picnic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Picnic poems by poem length and keyword.
He was quiet, and so very shy
His Loving " Poetry " , caught my eye
I felt his Tender Heart, flutter for me
I saw his Loving Heart ; Pen POETRY
Beautiful POETRY, and " I " “The wonder of his words”
My Heart entwines with his, Everlasting LOVE : Endures
Throughout the Eons of Forever I have watched his sadness
My Beloved, Your Eternal Love Always brings my Heart Gladness
You sit beside me, at the Never ending banqueting tables of Heaven
Alas : do not waste Your Love, waiting to be with me in Eden’s Garden
I see in the window of Your Heart, the mirror of Your Soul
The image in Your eyes, " Barbara Jean " and YOU Picnic on a California Knoll
The fond memories of Your breath, caressing my breast, are now Hers
My Spirit smiles at Your happiness : Love Her as You do me
My Heart elated to see You Love again , long lost Emotions stir :
Barbara Jean , Take care of and Love this “Gentle Man” for all Eternity
Bring Joy to his Life again , and to me Satisfaction that He "is" LOVED again
Inspired by Nathan Dilts’ Contest “ The Opposite Sex”
Dedicated to " Barbara Jean " ; By " Lenore Ellen "
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the clearing was large enough to fit about
twelve of your Lion King themed picnic
blankets without coming close to the forest’s
edge. I thought about bringing you out there
and telling you that and then I remembered
that you got rid of the blanket 2 months ago
when your new boyfriend said that Lion King
was overrated and the blanket had too many
holes in it. I would never have the guts to tell
you this in person but maybe someday you’ll
come across this poem and know that if you
ever want to spread out 12 new Lion King
themed picnic blankets in a clearing I will be
there with chicken salad sandwiches and 6
of those pineapple cinnamon ciders you love.
Let’s get out of this dang house and seize the day,
let’s go drive out in the county and see what comes our way,
let’s go find an orange sunset and watch the daylight fade,
let’s get out of this dang house and seize the day.
Let’s go take that road the we always pass by,
let us wander ’round the backroads and see the countryside,
let’s go picnic by a lakeshore near the water blue and wide,
let’s go take the road that we always pass by.
Let’s go ride a horse through verdant fields of green,
let’s feel the wind on our faces as we gallop through the sheen,
let’s ride to quiet places neither one of us has seen,
let’s go ride a horse through verdant fields of green.
Let’s get out of here, come on baby, let’s go,
let us walk across the meadows or slide across the snow,
let’s go see the world around us that so many never know,
let’s get out of here, come on baby, let’s go!
Picnic
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
My friends laugh elsewhere on the beach
while I sit here, alone, counting the waves,
writing and rewriting your name in the sand ...
Confession
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Your image overwhelmed my vision.
As the long nights passed, I became obsessed with your visage.
Then came the moment when I quietly placed my lips to your picture ...
***
Rain
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Why shiver alone in the rain, maiden?
Embrace the one in whose warming love your body and mind would be drenched!
There are no rains higher than the rains of Love,
after which the bright rainbows of separation will glow with the mysteries of hues.
My Body's Moods
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I long for the day when you'll be obsessed with me,
when, forgetting the world, you'll miss me with a passion
and stop complaining about my reticence!
Then I may forget all other transactions and liabilities
to realize my world in your arms,
letting my body's moods guide me.
In that moment beyond boundaries and limitations
as we defy the conventions of veil and turban,
let's try our luck and steal a taste of the forbidden fruit!
***
Moon
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
All of us passengers,
we share the same fate.
And yet I'm alone here on earth,
and she alone there in the sky!
***
Vanity
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
His world is so simple, so very different from mine.
So distinct—his dreams and desires.
He speaks rarely.
This morning he wrote: "I saw some lovely flowers and thought of you."
Ha! I know my aging face is no orchid ...
but how I wish I could believe whatever he says, however momentarily!
COMPLICATED COMPLICATION
The complicated complication is so serious; I know you are curious!
This is so interesting it can’t be found tedious
Solomon is wise; the fool says he is a nerd
Wisdom is not relevant; let’s feed it to the bird
Oh! This is ridiculous; the pawn slaps the king a checkmate
This secret is confidential let thy mouth not menstruate.
Slept in silent homage to the creatures of the night
Oh! This is a mosquito bite but nobody gives a fight
Death got its own life on the edge holds the cliff tight
Sister is biased; she fell out with her childhood clique
To her, mother told friends are not just meant to pick
It hurts when it comes to pride; she left in a fit of pique.
Could it be the poor are so rich to call the rich complete destitute?
It’s so funny; he seeks to make a virgin out of a prostitute
The future is born; put the past in the glass casket
The tank is full; put the rest of the water in the basket
It’s absurd; the eagle can’t see clearly in such a panic
Could it be God and his angels are on a trip to hell for a picnic?
What else can be complicated than this complication?
~Lordvip~
My Darling Arabella
So much I have to tell her
Of times gone by when life was sweet
When no one felt the need to Tweet
We packed a picnic ready to eat
And walked for miles, oh such a treat
Back then when life was simple
When life was oh so sweet
Playing hopscotch on the pavement
Roller skating down the hill
But sometimes when we went too fast
Bang! Crash! We had a spill
But we jumped up really quickly
No time to sit and weep
Back then when life was simple
When life was oh so sweet
Playing outside in fresh clean air
I yearn for those innocent days
We didn’t need Phones or Selfies
Just being with friends, having fun, acting plays
Talking and laughing, our life was complete
In those tranquil days life was simple
When life was oh so sweet
I often think of the books that I read
At the end of the day when I lay in my bed
The Famous Five, Heidi, memories I kept
Inside my head - as I dreamt, whilst I slept
No blue lights to keep me awake half the night
No TV or Tablet and no need to Tweet
Just dreaming about the fun with my pals
Oh those halcyon days life was simple and sweet
written for my darling granddaughter
Contest Strand Choice S
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st Place
Eternal Song of Human Love
Human love is not a picnic party
It is a grand festival of mercy and humanity.
Human love is not wine of pride and prejudice
It is a vast vine of sublimation sans malice
Human love is not a loo of aversion
It is ceaseless rain of compassion.
Human love is not pitch dark of despair
It is a luminous element, full of hope and care.
Human love is not a bread of hunger and humiliation
It is a sacred thread of ecstasy and affection…
Human love is not a butcher’s avidity
It is a sanctimonious garland of fraternity.
Human love is not rough waves of salty seas
It is a long shadow of evergreen trees.
Let us unanimously sing eternal song of human love.
People thought we island hopped by random drift,
when our picnic canoes blew away.
"Where are your charts and instruments" they asked?
"Those feeble canoes could never make the journey"
"You only go there 'cause you lost your way"
"You silly driftwood dreamers"
Little did they know we navigate by memory,
with the way to go, and how to get there
whispered between old and new ears, orally.
They say we are fair-weather sailors,
afraid of clouds and rain.
They say we only venture out in season, fair and friendly.
Little did they know in daylight,
we get direction from watching and pin-pointing
where the sun rises and sets on the horizon.
At night we know which star to watch
and align with the mast of double canoe
to hold our course.
We switch stars as they rise and set, in season.
They say we sail just for the fun of it,
for the sheer joy of riding the waves and currents,
sailing with the winds
free as a bird, going wherever they take us.
Little do they know we read
the winds and waves to find our way
on epic planned journeys by canoe.
Wave patterns change when an island is nearby.
We know the swirl of currents,
We read the trade winds like sign-posts.
We know the birds know where they roost.
We follow them home.
We know birds are master navigators on
their migrations, we follow them.
Sadly, these oral skills and
land-finding traditions
are now being lost forever.
Dispelled as oral traditions quelled, forgotten, pass away.
We the navigators have lost our way.
What people said about our ignorance of navigation
and silly random drift for landfinding is now too true,
Repêchage, Touché'.
Man it is bitter cold, and the oar is gone floating down river fast.
My canteen has whiskey, so I take a swig; knowing it has to last.
Where are my matches? I ponder so I grab my Cuban cigar.
How many miles would I float down river before I reached that sandbar?
My moose tattoo gave a mighty laugh and held his teddy bear tighter.
The clouds were overcast now. I was not sure if I had a lighter.
The matches had gotten wet you see, when I leaned out to grab my oar.
I wish I had brought the other one with me when I left that sainted shore.
I took a puff of the cigar, ah heaven, but now I needed a snack.
I opened ma’s picnic basket, and drew out a white doily and a love sack.
She had thrown a flashlight in the bottom which I noticed as ate my food.
Chocolate donuts and ham sandwiches with pickles put me in a good mood.
Do you have your hatchet? My inner voice asked. Let’s chop ourselves an oar.
Carved myself a makeshift paddle out of canoe to take me to shore.
The moose tattoo was laughing, making her teddy bear chuckle too.
I got to land by eleven o’clock, the forest turning a nightly hue.
I barely had enough strength to pull the canoe up into the safety of the sand.
The cattails were impeding our way, my tattoo and I a pretty motley band.
Couldn’t you have just jumped in the water? My inner voice asked on a whim.
Forgetting for a second I guess, that this fisherman does not know how to swim.
If the witch was any witchier she would be witchy indeed!
Her face is the face of a seasoned spell-maker, I must concede.
I watch her picnic with a troll as they devour an enormous feed.
There is sweat on her brow that is too crazy-acting to bead.
I will meet you later, she tells the troll, I am heading to Leed.
She wraps up the rest of the lunch, showing her greed.
I decide to hightail it out of there and jump on my steed.
the witch jumps on too, and thanks us for our “good deed”.
So that is how we ended up giving a witch a ride to Leed.
It was not my idea, and certainly not the thought of my steed.
But she shared a bit of her turkey, so we also could feed.
That is why I felt okay about this volun-told “good deed”.