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.
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
My Angel Bob is on vacation
That is my predicament and situation
You see for a few thousand years
Hundreds of souls have been in his care
Millions of prayers he sent to Above
Always watching with quiet love
Bob is a Class C angel in 9th Heaven he dwells
You know the one next to Hell
Works all day and through each night
While the demons and devils mock him in delight
He tries real hard to earn his wings
He was up for really important things
Once he was called upon a task so great
But he overslept and he was too late
It seems there was this virgin girl in Israel
An immaculate birth to her he was to reveal
But oversleeping he wasn't able
So God sent down the boastful Gabriel
And than there were these walls of Jericho
Knock them down with a single blow
And than if by choice he lost his voice
So God sent down his thunder
And the great walls fell under
Poor Bob left out cause he couldn't shout
And remember the evil of those two cities
Sodom and Gomorrah a sight not for my pretties
Fire and brimstone he was suppose to rain down
But instead in his pail full of water no orders to drown
So the glory again goes to Gabriel to boast
He burnt those two cities to crispy toast
Back to 9th Heaven on a ladder he must climb
While the demons of Hell mock him in rhyme
Poor Angel Bob even Bill the silly has wings
It seems he helped Joseph intrepid a Pharaoh's dreams
From Class C to B he roused rubbing it into poor Bob's nose
You see Bob was to deliver Joseph's coat of true blue
But he stumbled into a rainbow and dyes it of every hue
Joseph was sold into slavery by jealous brother's schemes
All Bob could say is I hope the boy has dreams
Continued in Angel's Holiday (Part Two)
In the palate of a rainbow purple is my muse , such depth, such splendour it entrances the eye it fixates only on it
This is the colour of great many things, it may be the lavender of lilacs, or the boldness of a ripe juicy plum , may be that designer plush velvety chair which up on you sit
Purple is represented by royalty on the crown it is displayed with regal attention one must pay
It can be found as amethyst so stellar in its purity , attractive to the bitterness of skeptics, set in the finest of jewelry there it lay
A colour like no other , it’s quite awe is displayed in the cherished summers dusk , that brings solace to the waiting mind
It pretties up the scenery of the naked forest and speckles it in kind
Sensory bliss , euphoric, a constant for a master piece work of art , unique with a pleasure so appealing for all to witness that the heart can see
A Purple Heart for valour, the pleasing touch of velour , the only colour of a vintage El Camino as on drives off into the sunset , purple it the muse for me
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
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.
Welcome signs spreads dah floor_
And here I stand just before.
There’s Happy people inside therein_
It's soon to open_ don't know when.
Peeping through dah peephole
waving to dah crowd_
doing my best_ not ta get loud.
I keep-a ringing dah doorbell_
could give a shout er yell;
darn things' a'working_
as far as I give tell.
Welcome signs spreads dah floor_
And here I stand just before.
There’s Happy people inside therein_
It's soon to open_ don't know when.
Seeing through dah win'da and whaddaya know_
They’s doing the limbo and dah dirty disco.
Musics' a'playing_ They’s a'dancing the jig
Ole man Thomas' bout to lose his wig.
There’s and ole friend o mine.
chugg-in on tasty moon shine_
while sipping Pete's brandy wine.
N starr-in at dah pretties n fine
Welcome signs spreads dah floor_
And here I stand just before.
There’s Happy people inside therein_
It's soon to open_ don't know when.
Aww smokes alive_ They got Toro cigars_
see-em plucking ashes in dah ole fruit jar_
n havin knee slappin funnin at dah end of dah bar.
Oh darnit to devil_ my unlucky stars
cain't they hear me bangin so_
won't be long_ but I don't know.
Its been a while now just a bit_
Lets turn the knob or jiggle it.
Welcome signs spreads dah floor_
And here I stand just before.
There’s Happy people inside therein_
It's soon to open_ don't know when.
Porch light shi-nin clean in my face_
what's dah password ta-git in dis place?
I can do dah tap, dah twist and dah flip_
Can I pleeease come in for just a sip.
Guard dogs a'barkin all dis time_
Inclined to become friends o mine.
Open up _if you’d be so kind
Or is membership here’s by strange design?
Welcome signs spreads dah floor_
And here I stand just before.
Why I keep a'knocking_ just what for?
Cuz whatever I do_ they just ignore.
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.
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
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