Long Playful Poems
Long Playful Poems. Below are the most popular long Playful by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Playful poems by poem length and keyword.
Everyone has a story to share,
No matter if others may seem to care.
When asked, “What memory brings you the light?”
I think of the day when all felt just right.
A rainy day cast a somber gray hue,
With Vincent and Michael, my brothers, so true.
At Grandma’s we sat, with unease on our hearts,
“Why are we here? Why did we part?”
“Your parents had troubles, a great misunderstanding,
They thought it best to let time do the handing.”
“But five years is long; don’t you think that’s strange?”
I pondered aloud, feeling lost in this change.
Grandma looked troubled, then picked up the phone,
“John, it’s about time you face what you’ve sown.
These kids are asking, and they need to see,
You must end this mess; come home to your family.”
My mother was gone, with another man near,
Five years had flown, where once was mere fear.
“Time to move on,” I thought, feeling torn,
Yet hope filled my heart like a bright, shining dawn.
My father then called with a voice full of care,
“I’ve been blind to the truth; I should’ve been fair.
I miss you, my love, and the kids miss you too,
Please come home to us; let’s start life anew.”
“What’s happening?” Mom asked, with a heart open wide,
“I’m longing for home; it’s time to decide.”
A miracle happened, she let her man go,
And came straight back home, where love’s warm glow.
Dad quit his job, putting family first,
For the love he had lost, the pain and the thirst.
That night we celebrated, joy filled our tone,
We called it a reunion, a true happy home.
From that day forward, our laughter was free,
In this happy home where we all longed to be.
Now I sit back, wishing for playful strife,
Just a hint of the fire that sparks up our life.
For we are united, our love deeply sewn,
In this happy home that we now call our own.
Everyone has a story, and this one is mine—
Of reunion and joy, where the stars brightly shine.
In the whispering embrace of twilight's veil,
Where shadows lengthen and echoes of memory swell,
I find myself drifting in a river of consciousness,
Young boys, brave and bold, stepping into eternity,
Like crimson poppies falling on sacred ground,
Innocence forsaken in villages and towns.
The cold hand of death and the longing for peace,
Rifles, bayonets, and thunderous artilleries,
Chasing clouds and dreaming of ethereal dames,
Lives consumed by the relentless flames of war.
Sunrises in their hearts, moonlight in their eyes,
Yet sunsets came too soon, heedless of their cries,
"Mother, father, your beloved son shall return,"
As a thousand splendid stars on each face burn.
Crimson poppies adorning their uniforms,
Tender and warm, a somber adornment,
Crimson poppies beneath their nails,
In their boots; their final exhale.
Tea and meals prepared by mother's hand,
Now only in memories, their presence sketched.
Father’s gruff voice and playful fights with siblings,
Echoes of a distant life, yet empowering.
Home was now a trench, a brotherhood forged,
In the spirit of camaraderie, their hearts engorged.
On muddied ground, their last stand found,
Young boys, brave and bold, forever bound.
In the twilight of thought, where lives entwine with dreams,
A song of melancholy rises, a tale of eternal seams,
For in the silence of eternity, they remain young stars,
Shining in the cosmos, freed from war's scars.
Like crimson poppies scattered across the battlefield,
Their sacrifice an unending testament, forever sealed,
In a world where innocence and courage eternally meld,
Their spirits whisper in the winds, in stories forever held.
Mystic and dramatic, their legacy weaves,
Through the fabric of time, in twilight's eaves,
A tapestry of valor, in crimson and gold,
Young boys, brave and bold, who shall never grow old.
It appears the climb will be steep
For we are mostly in stupor
How do dark fears, upon us creep
Why so rare, is playful caper
From myopic sight, veiled is light
It appears the climb will be steep
Our dull awareness, naught at night
Dreams spin us around, while we sleep
Fears and desires, oft make us weep
Wish to be free but know not how
It appears the climb will be steep
For we wallow in the shallow
Restless heart, for Gods love does pine
We can if we choose, take the leap
Unless head, heart and love align
It appears the climb will be steep
27-June-2021
Written: March 11, 2025
***********************
Desert dazzling daisy,
Enchanted by the delicate dance of the wind,
swayed gently under the warm sun.
Its vibrant petals caught the light,
creating a mesmerizing display that drew
the attention of passing travelers, the light of dawn,
At dusk, it fades akin to fireworks.
Brilliant blooms of
dandelions, born from
a bounty of love,
are bettor than barren
baubles of diamonds,
which emerge from a heart of stone.
Fantastic flair fills
hearts with fervor,
as fleeting fragments fade
such dewdrops dancing
delicately on dainty petals.
An ethereal essence elevates,
joyfully bouncing in the
the atmosphere as dew emerges.
Roaring rivers of red rage
in a realm buried
beneath darkness,
holding treasures,
tattered threads,
tossed at the threshold,
gently cloaking love,
longing and light.
In a blazing embrace,
spitting at soaring ships,
smoldering swifter,
Togetherness and love soar to the loftiest heights.
mirroring a midget mirth,
As a mantis mercilessly mauls its mate,
Carefree, courageous, captivating,
this scene is filled with frolic and fun,
then they could scream
the fury of forgotten freedom,
fervently flaring.
Leap into the loving arms.
of a waiting parent—
Truly treasured is trust.
There is joy in returning that love
love is not a ledger;
It doesn't tally totals.
But for the parents,
Who do they leap into?
Trusting love will be met.
with festive feasts
and fine wine.
Progenitor of all progenitors,
to whom the past is pinned,
in whose hands the future flourishes,
famed for nurturing the finest—
for joy and wellness,
seeds sown and reaped,
life rekindled,
form of finesse and fortitude.
To heed His harmonious hints,
with serene Sunday pauses,
to ponder and perceive
how one might overlook a signal
and shift into reverse,
to regain the path
and reach a radiant resolution.
A paradise of playful,
peaceful pauses,
and who in truth
can truly doubt,
Gazing at the humbly honored
His everlasting love for us,
His cherished children
for whom He chose to die?
Whisper, rain, whisper!
drip-drop…pitter-patter!!!!
A misty drizzling dawn, watching playful rain
carrying on a mischievous conversation with the wind !
Tall majestic trees shaking their branches,
Tiny plants shivering and quivering !
Stories from the past float in the somber sky -
Tapestry embroidered by fine strands of
sadness and delight!
rose bush sways,
wind hums through the rustling leaves,
murmuring poignant words,
conveying romance evergreen!
The cloud floats - fluttering fragrant petals of Jasmine,
swish me to an enticing youth,
When collecting flowers at dawn,
with luscious dewdrops on them,
brought a sense of euphoria!
Drip-drop, drip-drop,
The dripping sound resonates memories
of magical swing and joyful laughter,
of petite flowers and vibrant chatter,
Kaleidoscopic raindrops hold them all.
You whisper to me in your soft velvety voice,
reminisce our moments
of endless bliss.
I am breathless!
Clouds glide, clouds waft leisurely,
displaying colours in a stunning rainbow!
An extravaganza of captivating hues in its palette!
Whisper, rain, whisper!
drip-drop…pitter-patter!!
There is something about the cuddle of mist
that washes the pain of love's farewell
like a damp of healing elixir,
so softly touching my navel
to ignite back the glaze
within my marrow;
and breaths sing with playful twilight
about fresh enchantment blessed...
Now i greet the flowering of joy
with unopened gifts,
knowing goodbye is a beautiful wound
as one star plays night keeper of reflective hours
humming a new tune, dainty yet unknown,
that in the solace born from ache and joy,
I welcome it all-- the fire, wonder, and sighs.
Thomas Martin:Romantic Fools Contest
So sensationally super; Sagittarius son of John Spence
Pleasantly personable, and matriarch Maud Spence’s son
Enabling, exquisite, eloquent, evolving and enterprising
Naturally nice, no nonsense, and a nutritionist nobleman
Carrot consumer, constant comrade and cold-war veteran
Equitably enlightened, and just an elegant eggnog taster
Jumping Jupiter, a jubilant sundae lover, and just a jewel
Oppresso de liber, optimistically captivating; oratorical
Saintly passionate, succulent salmon sampler; sweetheart!
Exquisitely enchanting, enchantingly amatorious; éclat!
Playful, painstakingly passionate, pajama wearer, patient
Handsomely helpful handyman, harmonizer of happiness
Sweet as syrup, shining armor off the shelf; savoir-faire!
Red-blooded poetry connoisseur and radioactively lovable!
~~~~~~~~~~~***********~~~~~~~~~~~
Won Seventh Place Position
"Tell Me About You Contest"
June 16, 2010
Sponsored by Amy Green
~~~~~~~~~~~***********~~~~~~~~~~~
From books to cartoons, apparel and home decor,
Mickey Mouse has been my ultimate idol...
who has more talent than he does?
Wonder why they made him such a unique mouse?
Mickey Mouse, the funniest character full of wit,
makes both children and adults laugh...
how and where did he learn his craft?
Walt Disney must have had fun drawing it!
On my library's shelves as high as the ceiling, you find
all of his books and magazines...isn't he supreme?
Doesn't he profoundly inspire and make you dream?
No, he's not the shy, little mouse...he can be so wild!
Look at his white baby face and black, round nose so squeezable:
he can be mad, funny, whimsical and sweet as any other kid...
would you love to squeeze him and make him your friend?
Where would you find a character more entertaining and playful?
Written by Andrew Crisci
for Linda-Marie's contest, " Disney "
i tell you i love you
in every way i can
with words sometimes
with gifts others
with little helpful deeds
a secretive smile
promise laden
i say I love you
with a wanton gaze
a playful squeeze
hands employed to tease
and lips on lips to please
my body language speaks
i love you
i say that i love you
a million ways each day
ways that come naturally to me
the message conveyed
communication complete
yet i wonder
do you hear me
loud and clear?
how i wish i knew
your language of love
teach me to speak it fluently
help me to nuance it
with all that you need
to make meanings complete
tell me
tell me how
to relate, communicate, punctuate this love
in ways that affirm
so you'll feel secure
teach me the language of your love
cause i tell you i love you
a million ways each day
yet futility fraught
i fear...
no gift, no word, no caress
no passionate pleasure play can prove
this...this...reality i live
this feeling, this absolute truth
that makes everything í've know
a petty peripheral
compared to you
i tell you i love you
oh, how i wish i knew
how to say i love you
in the language of
you
Eileen Manassian
Like bubbles borne by sea if be this life—
In space of time a mere random moment
And still myriads of rare promises rife,
E’en bubbles as event can make a dent.
Wish, I see in waves and waters vast sea,
See common clay, in all pots and potter,
Wish, I can see the root reality,
See lotus not else than mud and water.
To Destiny, not so is good nor bad,
And still I cleave, create likes and dislikes
From things that are joyous, nor ever sad,
My clinging as a discordant note strikes.
And yet, I can’t but cleave and feel inclined,
Mayhap, in playful mischief God made mind.
__________________________
Sonnet |04.12.2006| God, creation, life