Long Playtime Poems
Long Playtime Poems. Below are the most popular long Playtime by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Playtime poems by poem length and keyword.
The Earth, a watchful mother
caring for her child.
She holds the Moon within her reach,
and has for quite awhile.
Playing chase, the Moon runs circles.
But, never does break free.
Then it's hide and seek, her favorite,
as she hides from you and me.
She peeks around a fluffy friend
and shows her rounded face.
Her light, a smile we recognize.
It's like a warm embrace.
And then, she tags her lofty mate.
In and out she darts,
throwing beams of moonlight
on pairs of hopeful hearts.
And with her playtime over,
she drops softly to the West.
Her mother watching closely,
A child must have her rest.
The Kitten
In canine halls of wisdom, where dogs do reside,
A furry little menace, has decided to abide,
A kitten, small and sassy, with eyes so bright,
A ball of fluff and trouble, that's always in sight.
She pounces on my tail, with a playful little mew,
I'm like "Hey, what's the deal?" but she just looks at me "mew",
She's a tiny little dictator, with claws so sharp and fine,
I'm just a dog, trying to survive, this feline crime.
She steals my toys, and runs off with glee,
I'm like "Hey, those are mine!" but she just gives me a spree,
She's a little furry thief, with a heart so pure and light,
I'm just a dog, trying to keep up, with this kitten's flight.
We play and we romp, in a ridiculous display,
I'm a dog, and she's a kitten, in a silly little way,
She's a tiny little partner, in crime and in fun,
I'm just a dog, trying to keep up, with this kitten's game, everyone!
She's a little furry friend, who's always by my side,
Together we get into trouble, and make our humans hide,
We're a dynamic duo, of mischief and mayhem too,
A dog and a kitten, a perfect pair, in a funny little crew.
So here's to the kitten, a furry little friend,
A tiny package, of trouble that never ends,
May her purrs be loud, and her whiskers be bright,
A shining star, of mischief, in the dark of night.
With every snuggle, and every playtime too,
Our bond grows stronger, in a friendship true,
A dog and a kitten, a perfect pair,
A tale of friendship, that's beyond compare.
vibrating lipstick burnouts forgiving coated batter crucifix battery love playtime with erasers when they get their nerve back only the movement of gin pubic hair pubic hair nightclub chopsticks vs. zebra stripes burnt a little bit of work to do good to see you Mr & Mrs Next Week challenging Spanish snails taking away stupid containers contest slamming savage praise right or left pouring oxygen techniques Cornish wind chimes elimination suit ties: how it’ll change the world? horrible city lines finishing anything with tingles speculation mass hero sweat cold wings limping peace symbols moss investment space millipedes refusal pillow laws Singapore slippers dandruff violence year locust projection chimp schnitzels the acute recognition fine scared about the future the skill the power to entice please linked related to belong to coyly playful won’t survive rippling effect of high-pitched sound body rash won’t ever make themselves available conspiracy of unexpected showing up someone or something location chosen by actors who haven’t been in a film for over twenty years small in size skinny tube shut at one end attached to the bigger intestine other end responsible appearance mobile phones the ability grasp something hard the action of instance of coming into sight split in half all extra material end novel dark fiction only the action applying crème cheese on warts will help evolve research flying wing aircrafts seize by force Mr Consent hold him in custody for exactly three days goldfish able to grasp mentally the way a human looks will never be how they want to look like see a tall black lined man hideous orange means the grammatical construction whereby noun a group of words positioned following another modify its meaning enemy the teacher also means Mr Keep the Public Impression of Positive Quality of Life & Normality just dumped Mrs Go to an Event For Too Long she gave him:too many arch smiles he never smiles unless he has to I feel better bright yellow jumper holding small box of shoe string fries neeeedddss my seat I blankly nod he can have it l get up slowly chair squeaks back a bit bow to him his creases are a frown move sideways away carefully hawk watching him hop up onto the chair
whip my head back jumper smirking or not? my weird bow never again not smirking he just looks silly sitting there not even neck level to the table
No warning, in the house a silence fell,
pitch darkness, and the minutes slowly passed,
how long this cut would last no-one could tell.
Match sparked, the flame flickered, a spell was cast
the amber light was filled with visions past.
The smell of warm wax peeled away the years
to Reigate school, Miss Leggett's class, midday,
the noonday sun blazed bright and playtime neared
so time to put our drawing things away,
school milk gulped down, and rushing off to play.
Warm crayons in a box on windowsill,
the sides speckled with marks when taken out,
a pleasing smell that lingers with me still
token of what my childhood was about.
Power back, candle and memory blown out.
19th February 2018
For contest 'The scent of baking bread...', sponsor Sara Kendrick
Children at play we are now
it’s time for us to enlarge our hearts
and loar in the garden
Sight unseen reality
Seems golden as yellow apples on a tree
Our Father watches us as we’re at Edens park
With other His other children
As everyday
We rest we play
Some of them needed
Some are unloved and dismayed
Do I as a child stop what matters
And give them the time of day
So a question is is it better to play in the garden
Rather than to labor engaging nurturing humanities hurts
Father saying playtime is over it’s time feed
to labor their “worth” we are God’s
Children at play it’s time for us to enlarge your hearts
And dlobor in the garden
10/29/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
Dreary dreams drift
Sorry schemes sift
Lousy lines lift
Frenzy frames face
Gifts glimpsing grace
Troubling times trace
Play pretty poise
Verge vibrant voice
Chant clever choice
Mind moving mouse
Grip gaining grouse
Book beaming browse
Stay singing streams
Dust display dreams
Shout succinct screams
Live lovely light
Nudge nagging night
See special sights
Zealous zest zooms
Reach rustic rooms
Bright blossoms bloom
See sexy sway
Weave wavy way
Prime prancing play
Live lovely looks
Brave brilliant book
Catch clever cook
Reap rapture's rhymes
Trace transit times
Create calm chimes
Fling funny flop
Dream dewy drops
Sense secret stop
Mind makes magic
Dream dreads drastic
Toils trade tragic
Peace prompting prize
Seek sweet surprise
Reap rapid rise
Leon Enriquez
02 December 2014
Singapore
The new education system
In truth it’s meant to twist ‘em
Into something that
A child ain’t meant to be
It steals their precious playtime
Corrupts their daily timeline
It heralds a New World Order
Insidiously
It takes more, than just one man
In their evil global plan
To change the hearts
And minds of every nation
Go steal their freedom surely
Go get them nice and early
Warm their hearts with
Your home-grown indoctrination
Must we first lose our Jesus Christ
For to herald their new Zeitgeist
By the tearing down
Of each religious border
When the zeitgeist that is prevalent
Is intent on being malevolent
Then firstly friend
Comes chaos out of order
The church it changes readily
A Dove becomes a Vulture
A wolf within sheeps clothing
Finds an ease, in changing culture
Evolved from one-time pagan ways
Our celebrated Holy Days
Iniquitous intent
About to rupture
The Babylonian Talmud
Infused the Sons of Noah
In righteousness find wickedness
From the Qur’an to the Torah
Fraternities and brotherhoods
And secretive societies
Beheadings, drownings, trial by fire
Faiths forced, within their pieties
Gods world, bent to their intention
Bush, signs in Laws of Noahide
Martial Law on the horizon
Stones of Georgia, genocide
A New World Order looms
No empathy nor pathos
One World Religion emanates
An Order out of Chaos
innocence in stock?
playtime a torrent.
precious salve needed.
swings low and highs.
slide like the wind; climb
spider-red web — now
he’s asail on the deep sea.
mud puddles* all around.
running, jumping, playing, chasing.
especially loved my grand chasing the sweet
little girl. adorable….quite adorable
and my grown-like-a-weed grandson
playing so sweetly...quite sweetly with the throng.
but the pudgy kid
carried a twisted wire
and his parents let him carry
guns — no permit, not concealed,
toy guns in fact,
as he rings my young grandsons neck
with the crook
of his elbow and him and another kid
hold guns to his head.
this is playtime?
WHAT...THE…
the youngest boy wearing a tube hat,
starts acting out cujo,
going after the “big kid,”
who also got kicked in the knee
and the butt.
it was time to leave this public park.
my youngest grand had escaped
the treachery with an elbow to the perpetrator’s gut
and i left this sordid scene as if it was
a bar room brawl,
“Let’s go.”
so let’s judge —
where were these parents?
likely seated on the outskirtting benches.
of course they would have come down on me,
like a waterfall, if i had had to pry my precious grand
from one of the soulless kid’s hands.
2/20/2021
*using as a verb here
**YES! A TRUE STORY!
“In the middle of the night, when the butterflies dance to the moon's song”
~ Anoucheka Gangabissoon ~
In a tiny cove nestled across from the sea,
The children of Neverland venture happily.
In the middle of the night as owls take to flight,
The moon sings a hushed lullaby soft and light,
And butterflies twirl and dance to the song.
Fireflies and pixies join in the fun following on.
The children of Neverland who will never grow old.
The earth is their playground to have and to hold.
They are the children whose spirits are free.
Taken too early, now they stay young for eternity.
Their day is our night, always keeping out of sight.
They giggle and rejoice. Their laughter can’t be heard.
We mortals, long to hear them, we can’t hear a word.
The secret of their playtime is held by the One above,
Nurtured, cared for and comforted by His tender Love.
The children of Neverland, in our hearts will stay.
A parent that’s lost a child should be glad they still play.
In a tiny cove nestled across from the sea,
The children of Neverland venture happily.
Deep within the twinkling
clouds lies Toylandia, a
magical island where toys
come alive.
Teddy bears wear tiny
golden crowns and dance
with beautiful, glittering fairy
dolls.
Toy trains chug along tracks
made of rainbow strawberry
licorice, blowing bubbles into
the blueberry sky.
Every morning, colorful
plastic blocks build
themselves into magnificent,
soaring castles.
Friendly dinosaur toys gently
carry smiling children across
rivers of sweet chocolate milk.
The trees are made of green
cotton candy, sprouting shiny
marbles and bouncy balls.
At night, soft wind- up music
boxes play a gentle, soothing
lullaby to the stars.
No batteries are ever needed
here, for pure imagination
powers the whole land.
The toys gather around a
warm campfire, sharing
happy stories and eating
marshmallow clouds.
It is a wonderful place of
endless playtime, where the
fun never, ever stops.