Long Pond Poems
Long Pond Poems. Below are the most popular long Pond by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pond poems by poem length and keyword.
Freddie the frog with the lopsided hop
would travel in circles 'til he tired and stopped,
then jumped into the pond with a giant kerplop
as the bullfrogs laughed and croaked 'til they dropped.
It mattered not where Freddie was bound,
even when swimming he went round and round -
amongst all the pollywogs he was renowned
for going and going and not gaining ground.
Poor Freddie had no trouble just staying busy
but circling and circling made him so dizzy;
he lived in a pond he never could cross
but one thing's for sure, he never got lost.
So no matter your problems, or where you start,
you'll always get home if you just trust your heart!
A nod to Theodor Geisel
Saturday flings
Sensorial pleasures;
Refreshing rain
~~~~~~~~~
A gift of somnolence
Moments on a breeze;
Drowsy airy feel
~~~~~~~~~
Beyond these silk curtains
An uncertain world;
Looking not seeing
~~~~~~~~~
Daughter's simple hair braids
Charming sight to see;
Wavy murmurings
~~~~~~~~~
Stroll by this old shop
Ancient owner smiles;
Dialect greeting nods
~~~~~~~~~
Faces in a crowd
Too many to remember;
Abrupt perfume swirls
~~~~~~~~~
Such sweet charming eyes
So mesmerising;
Lover styles smiles
~~~~~~~~~
Conscious awareness comes
To sleepy interlude;
Nightfall paints dark
~~~~~~~~~
Dragonflies chase morning
Across the muddy pond;
Lotus blossoms
~~~~~~~~~
Green frog floating
Twin eyes stare;
Set sight straight
~~~~~~~~~
Common fare for each
Feasting on simple;
Happy smiles at me
~~~~~~~~~
Stray wind drift
Soft chill on my skin;
Autumn exposure
~~~~~~~~~
Laughter now enroute
Wit plays with fun;
Happy faces here
~~~~~~~~~
Cosmetic surgery
A new facial expression;
Defer timely ageing
~~~~~~~~~
Electronic ink stains
Words emerge the same;
Rhyme clusters
~~~~~~~~~
Death comes too late
Life in weary strides;
Death before dying
~~~~~~~~~
Evil plots to live
The good die young;
For wrong reasons
~~~~~~~~~
This old tree speaks
Ancient language unknown;
Talks to the wind
~~~~~~~~~
I sit and wait for words
To fling and hurl and shout;
Poetry sums
~~~~~~~~~
By that Chinatown street
An old scholar's garden;
Bamboo moongate
~~~~~~~~~
Chinese calligraphy
Cryptic beauty adorns;
Profound symbols
~~~~~~~~~
Fast food menu
For Me n U;
Upsize perhaps
~~~~~~~~~
She murmurs in deep sleep
My darling wife dreams;
Charm watches
~~~~~~~~~
Starry constellations
Quiet conversations;
Absent words preside
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
20 September 2014
Singapore
Midnight rain
Wet window pane;
Crying bout
~~~~~~~~~
Watch words
Spill odd views;
Noise escalates
~~~~~~~~~
Evening meal
Fond delight;
Simple fare
~~~~~~~~~
Poetry soup
Flavours percolate;
Twisted rumblings
~~~~~~~~~
Weary world
Sleepy swirls;
Tasty twirls
~~~~~~~~~
Fish pond
Murky depths;
Stray thoughts linger
~~~~~~~~~
Moon beams
Misty skyline;
Midnight growl
~~~~~~~~~
Wet ones
Wipes clean;
Bad habits left
~~~~~~~~~
Diner empty
Weekend here;
Town painted red
~~~~~~~~~
Stillness
Coldness;
Emptiness
~~~~~~~~~
Surreal night
Dreamscapes;
Snoring music
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
13 November 2016
Singapore
It's not a swimming pool
still feels so cool,
it's not even a pond
still feels so grand!
On a hot summer day
children at play
dipping their toes
where the hydrant flows,
looking so hip
ready to take a dip,
posing to jump
in the murky dump.
Having some fun
under the hot summer sun
kids of the neighborhood
immersed in childhood
in a make-believe pool
a site not so cool.
A man in a suit
needs to reboot,
a man rolling sleeves
looking for relief,
the awful summer heat
burning under feet.
By the repair shop
the pedestrians stop,
as kids smile and laugh,
blow bubbles, and chaff.
The grown-ups gaze
in a quiet daze,
don't see the lure,
don't feel so sure,
it's a construction site
full of blight!
Not much activity,
the street looks empty,
so much humidity,
air quite sweaty,
time for some relief,
time to go knee deep.
August 31, 2017
Placed 1st: Brian's Choice 8 Contest by Brian Strand
Placed 4th: Hot Summer Day
Sponsor: Eve Roper
When I was just a little girl unaware of life,
Father would take me to the park with him;
I loved the pond and the sweet ducks within,
Mother, father and their babies full of trust.
The ducks like me knew nothing of corruption,
Like me they were a symbol of true innocence;
The ugliness of the world could not touch us,
In our naivete we just floated along with life.
We were sinless with no knowledge of being hurt,
It was a beautiful day and we knew only that;
Oh to go back to those days of pure innocence,
Where death had not touched my soul as yet.
And ducks only knew they liked the pond,
They did not know that their days were few;
We heard some boys came and killed them,
Father told me the world was sometimes bad.
I knew nothing in this age of innocence,
I had no knowledge, no understanding yet;
Oh but that would come to this lamb of God,
Yes the years have taken my instincts of trust.
Inside I am still that little girl at the pond,
I love to watch nature in all its beauty;
But my innocence is shattered, and I see reality,
Ugliness in the world has no limit it seems.
Dear God, is there anything more innocent,
Than the children and all the helpless animals;
On the news every day the children are suffering,
And I weep for the slaughter of the guiltless.
And the killers protest their innocence.
_______________________
August 17, 2015
Poetry/Verse/"And I Weep For The Innocent"
Copyright Protected, ID 15-700-464-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym
Written for the contest, The Instincts Of Innocence
sponsor, Justin Bordner
Honorable Mention
English Sonnet
Along the walk the suits and sneakers stroll,
so many faceless smiles that tell a lie
and don't reveal the true and costly toll,
instead with righteous glare they will deny.
We walked one time along this very shore
to skip a stone and watch the otters play
and vowed not to become what we abhorred -
a knight and a sweet damsel we would stay.
But that was all so very long ago
so as a storm blows in from o're the pond,
and suits hide safe behind their parasols,
it's for the simpler times I truly long.
Just like the otters we will splash and dive
and naked in the rain we will survive.
Morning's sunlight washes over me,
like a gentle ripple crossing a pond,
awakening my senses to this garden,
where life is
It's where flowers grow,
I inhale each fragrant scent with passing thoughts,
To free my burdens, listen to the wind in peaceful silence
Allow my heart to feel young again
When I ran through lush green meadows,
conquering the world
Hoping to find a treasure of memories,
to hold ever close
So I may touch them tenderly in years of gray
When tearful laughter spills on sacred ground
that was my life
In their solitude I'll remember,
struggles, sadness and flickers of paradise
When I caressed the face of love
and flew with eagle's wings
When imagination and reality, fought the good fight
washing my beaten heart onto the empty shores of loneliness
seeking refuge from illusions
I found this garden, so my soul could rest
So my mind could dance across time,
touching rainbows and wishes
and hear birds sing and the humming of bee's wings
to feel the soft breath of a butterfly in my palms
To see magic in all things
To remember before I leave this garden
to take the treasures I found
and place them in the lonely spaces of my heart
Where they will give a pause to smile,
before the long cold night.
It was a sizzling summer of electric blues and vibrant hues
in a garden full of flowers inked in plushy spanking reds
a wall of buttress wood splashed with vines of green
a purple morning glory with a touch of dewy sheen
over by a mossy pond a mandarin duck of orangey blue
The sun turns amber like a big fat shimmering coin of gold
in a sky that often blushes fuchsia, pink, by a cloud's enfold
emerald blades of grass behind a white striped skunk
a gradient shade of orange, from a Siberian chipmunk
here by the royal blue bench, a vibrant peacock fans bold
It is a season of rainbow colored rain and red electric trains
in a terrace full of trellises of white, roses bright as Spain
blooming with vigor inside my bright oasis
happily connected to a Revlon kiss,
of cherry berry merry, on a girl named Mary Lou Fontaine
Thanksgiving Visitors Come From Away
Hands once separated
By history on shores of distant oceans
Entwined again on a blustery November morning,
Meeting beneath a song
In the shadow of a steeple thrust
Into a brilliant autumn sky,
Uniting visitors from across the pond -
Traveling like new world explorers
Canyons grand, rocky mountain majesty
Rocks of pilgrims, terraced vineyards
And a golden gate -
With a stranger sharing common legacy of the days long past
Welcomed to a home in friendship
Knowing though a cozy shelter place awaits,
As Thanksgiving rushes toward the city by the bay,
On this harvest celebration
A family waiting beside a warming fire
And a groaning board of roasted turkey, pumpkin pie,
Sweet tart cranberries and potatoes mashed together
Unavailable as chefs and innkeepers share the holiday
With sons and daughters, brothers, sisters
And other fathers, mothers;
No chair reserved for strangers
From another land at the table
Until a hand extends an invitation
To share the festival of bounty
With unknown hearts at a table,
Always ready to set another place,
Awaiting laughter wrapped in a tradition
Of jokes and stories,
The savory scents of a new song sung
By hearts reunited –
Bowing heads to the words
Of a harvest grace
Gathering hands separated
By more than wider oceans
Hearts forever linked in memory
By a blustery November holiday.
Date Written: 11/13/19
Contest Entered: Strand Choice 6
Date Judged: 1/26/20
Come with me my love into an emerald forest,
Let us journey together the tangled, winding paths;
Past the wisteria hanging from bent tree branches,
And into the silence, let us find each other.
Oh come rest beside this turquoise calm pond,
Where tranquility dwells and birds sing softly;
Come love and let us lay in the fandango flowers,
Let us sink into the peacefulness and dream.
We are one and I fall into your deep charcoal eyes,
Lost in this sweet web of passion and desire;
Oh kiss my drenched scarlet lips for I am yours,
Forever and for eternity you have my love.
Yes, touch my scented magnolia hair flowing,
And I am hopelessly lost in this sultry emotion;
I run my fingers through your ash tangled hair,
So soft and pleasant in my caressing fingers.
Gold sun falls on us through the towering trees,
Hold me love, I want to feel your heart beating;
I never want to leave this place where marigold grow,
Oh, dream, please, can I have a moment longer.
__________________________
March 10, 2016
Poetry/Romanticism/Colourification
Copyright Protected, ID 16-767-107-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, United Colours: Colourification
sponsor, Silent One
Second Place