Long Pretties Poems
Long Pretties Poems. Below are the most popular long Pretties by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pretties poems by poem length and keyword.
So sadly, I must kill you my pretties -
then, I can love each of ye forever.
True tears moisten simple strokes of my brush,
gay gouache can caress every feather.
As you ascend, your wings will be fulfilled
when they lift to embrace heavenly winds.
We will long look skyward to hear thee sing
on high to that place of our earthly ends.
I shall study you and paint all your kind
to show the wide world how lovely thou are.
If I can complete just this one good thing -
hence, birders high hopes should fly ever far.
Rhyme, 12 lines, Nov 2021, 98 Words,
About John James Audubon 1785-1851 creator of
The Birds Of America book, 435 bird paintings that
that changed the course of avian history forever.
Eve Roper Contest: Rhyme Poems
11/5/21, 12 Lines, 98 Words
Grayscale had been hearing about the cardinal nest queen
Since the day she was two, and now she was sweetly nineteen.
She is given warm cat nip, and gifted whatever she has ever dreamed.
Her relatives never see her again, but she is honored and esteemed.
There is a hush as the finalist contenders are brought to the palace.
Grayscale sees Pretty Fur, Sleeping Cat, and her cousin, Fluffy Alice
Pretty Fur has a good chance; she is a show off, and winking away.
Many a king has taken this wild cat to their lair, back in the day.
Lazy daisy Sleeping Cat cannot even keep her eyes open.
Maybe I can out-sway and out-play her, Grayscale is kind of hope’n.
The king takes his time and finally makes a decision. Writes it in a note.
Guard hands it to Grayscale there is a huge lump in her throat.
Grayscale is now known as the cardinal nest queen, as note said.
She sits daily with a cardinal nest tied to her throbbing bobbing head.
All she really wants to do is go home, and fall swiftly into bed.
This title is for life, my pretties; at least she is rather well-fed.
Before the night is done;
Out before the setting sun,
Children good and mean, one by one
In Halloween costumes run
Through the neighborhood
Yelling, Trick or Treat. Feeling good,
Gleaning as much candy and fruit cache;
Laying out their mischief play
Before the night begun to grey.
With a spell curtains close and lights banish,
Children and grown-ups vanish,
Under nights cloak of slumber,
And the spell of Halloween does encumber.
Death rattles the bones
Under their headstones,
Moans of unknown beckon
With every growling second.
In the darkness the ferocious winds howl
Echoing voices of lost souls, moods so foul.
Trees tremble, creak, and shudder
Losing their limbs as leaves flutter.
Shadows run and hide into the depth of nowhere,
As Frankenstein and his bride round the square.
Werewolf painful howls of transformation he cannot bear.
Cackling witches and their feline
On flying broomsticks, above the tree line.
Bats and ghost fly in front of the laughing moon
Fly, fly my pretties, fly! and non to soon
Before the excitement of sins.
Till at last the day begins.
10/17/2020
Children Story
Your beauty beyond comprehension
bleeds from Azimuth to the stars
tender petals frozen in blue light
pique at the dawn in delight
As your fingers glide
smoothing air soft fingers
through colours poured to dye
and paint a Monet of illusion
Crossing my eyes on southern stars
receding from the night,
bereft, hopelessness my plight
the loss again of my habitat
The fondly brittle white petals
lay across my naked breasts
nipples harden at hot tongues end
as hands frame the ribs of Adam
I die at your fading shadows
sliding into a coughing sarcophagus
I reach into the sign of the cross
holding it within a chambered heart
again and again I am risen to mourn
again and again I grieve the passion
of Night, I am divest my position
and I am adrift in an illuminated lie
As days nails crease into my fresh
as her insistent tongue flickers life
coaxing me, pleasing me with pretties
finding I am pulled into her numbed
Slowly the hours cover me in sin
Slowly minutes forgive transgressions ,
but whispering fingers of dark flicker
waving evenings magnificent glory stains
The night has claimed my everything in pain
with evenings fall I resurrect again
She surrounded herself
With favorite things,
Shiny, pretty, happy items
They made her smile.
When they got to be too many,
She began hanging them by strings
Until they filled the ceilings and
The walls. This made her dance.
Her husband built her a barn,
And she filled it with even more glorious things
Bigger things. Furniture that made her laugh.
When she moved to a smaller house
She tried to take it all with her.
She ended up living among boxes,
Existing in pathways.
She lost her husband and her mind.
So people came and took the pretties away.
On the way out her grandson turned and
Handed her an angel with a glittered halo.
She smiled again.
Coming out of my prison door
Accompanied by my companion
Not connected in any way
....but I knew him
Barren wasteland, behind
Freedom beckons my will
I do NOT stop for direction
But run headlong into the chill
Wrapped tightly in failed attempts
To connect to anyone with value
I struggled in the comfort
To rest in the battle
I came to myself....
I had traded lock down
For house arrest
No movement possible
In my shiny, white, vest
........of broken threads
"A little help, please"
My companion touched my white
The shredded hope fell at his feet
As he directed me to the right where I would find the light
Door after door
Window upon window
Always passing through
Never knowing the compass of victory
Til I have done all I can do"
....to stand
Stand moment after eternal moment
In nothingness....learning to trust
Calming down desire
Singing lullabies to lust
Silence is far worse than the stand
The incessant push to understand
.....something....anything..............nope, still NOTHING!!!
How can one connect to authority
Without yielding up self
Carrying out their desires and commands
And leaving yours to collect dust bunnies on a knick knack shelf
...........stupid knick knacks.......stop running.........you might break.........the pretties
Today....at this very moment
I understand things I didn't in my past
I see the dark laid out before me
Shall I stop my flow...to ponder
Or continue in my sorrow, believing I will know more in the 'morrow
Accepting that my yielded connections will have no more erections
..........to wonder......
...............................in the desert........
Written by Trudy Schrader on 03/30/2021
Halloween Night
Before the night is done;
Out before the setting sun,
Children good and mean, one by one
In Halloween costumes run
Through the neighborhood
Yelling, Trick or Treat. Feeling good,
Gleaning as much candy and fruit cache;
Laying out their mischief play
Before the night begun to grey.
With a spell curtains close and lights banish,
Children and grown-ups vanish,
Under nights cloak of slumber,
And the spell of Halloween does encumber.
Death rattles the bones
Under their headstones,
Moans of unknown beckon
With every growling second.
In the darkness the ferocious winds howl
Echoing voices of lost souls, moods so foul.
Trees tremble, creak, and shudder
Losing their limbs as leaves flutter.
Shadows run and hide into the depth of nowhere,
As Frankenstein and his bride round the square.
Werewolf painful howls of transformation he cannot bear.
Cackling witches and their feline
On flying broomsticks, above the tree line.
Bats and ghost fly in front of the laughing moon
Fly, fly my pretties, fly! and non to soon
Before the excitement of sins.
Till at last the day begins.
10/17/2020
Children Story
The wind cooled Witchy’s pumpkin-orange,
yummy orange,
handsome face.
She rushed so worried south-east through a lace
forest so so silent
(in her pink boar shoes) watching so silent.
Fog came. Wind got worse.
Her conical crown and wide brim hat remained.
It was made of a rabbit named Morse
There Witchy wasn’t at all entertained!
Suddenly the wussy fog flung itself away
in all directions.
Plants sneezed. They felt harebrained and grey.
Leaves cheered. No affections!
Why? The wind had died in all directions.
She guided herself aside the truly up (so glad)
about river rolling mad,
and hopped up onto a perma-tanned sad
log (she worried she’d get
her titanium dioxide-stained muumuu wet).
On a royal silver tray called Rummy
sat like a medical dummy
three stripped bare
vacuum cleaners didn’t stare.
'BRRRM, BRRRM, BRRRM,' one said kindly,
the one with the less parts.
‘Hello, hello, hello,’ Witchy said kindly.
Time slothed by (she wasn’t even half way to Hiss).To
her, Hiss
was a true place of bliss.
Soon she was so bored.
Not even all the great thoughts about being
at the party could cure her from being bored.
So for fun she jumped with zoom
through a picture frame four times her height,
and smacked onto the floorboard of a bedroom.
All she could say was, ‘UMMMM. HUHHHHH?’
A blueberry woman, who was old,
and was planting many totally fast-growing gold
coloured veronica plant seeds in old
rotting skirting boards (totally old!)
ignored Witchy’s questions: ‘Where am I?
How can I
go through a picture frame and end up in here? How will I get back out of here
to the party?’
The woman just dropped (Oh Marty!)
and napped about a guy named Marty.
Veronicas grew without water.
Some pretties wallowed with their new daughter.
No sign of future slaughter.
Witchy was very angry, very scared, and blue.
‘What if I NEVER get out,’ she complained.
What else could she do?
The floorboards went CRACK! CRACK
CRACK!
Get the bacon
Fry the corn
I'll mind my business
And you mind yourn (southern)
Wash the clothes
Dust the pretties
Go to the store
Buy the kids some goodies
Fight your demons
Keep yourself in check
Be sweet and kind
Don't be a problem for others to correct
Go on vacation
Make sure we have fun
Don't be stressed
Be happy to lie in the sun
Do, go , be, everything
To make others feel great
Find your purpose
Don't live according to fate
A moment, please
To rest without a thought
I need to be nothing
So I can remain in who LOVE bought
...me
Written by Trudy Schrader on 09-29-2022
Anybody on this road we're on
Ain't nobody wants to be alone
Everybody's trying to make it home
To somebody
Sunflower, we're not in Kansas now
It's a new life down in Alabama
God gave us a little white house
Baby be right, maybe be wrong
We'll make it up as we go along
Been three years stuck in the viaduct
But now, Baby somehow
We got a little white house
Fix the kitchen, paint it blue-gray sky
Place your pretties in your own design
Get some rockers, maybe we can spy
Hummingbirds stop by
Plant some flowers, decorate with stones
Pink flamingoes, a couple garden gnomes
Make your jewelry, I'll write some country songs
We'll make a happy home
Baby be right, maybe be wrong
We'll make it up as we go along
Been three years stuck in the viaduct
But now, Baby somehow
We got a little white house
Sun's shining, summer's coming on
Dogs barking, fat boys mowing lawns
All the kids out, they're all puddling on
The corners
Sunflower, we're not in Kansas now
It's a new life down in Alabama
God gave us a little white house
Baby be right, maybe be wrong
We'll make it up as we go along
Been three years stuck in the viaduct
But now, Baby somehow
We got a little white house
©2019