Long Promenading Poems
Long Promenading Poems. Below are the most popular long Promenading by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Promenading poems by poem length and keyword.
She lay there, silent and still, in a falsified sleep,
As her hands danced that tangible love with her blanket.
The blink on her lips told me all of her secrets,
For my eyes she was a submissive ripe banquet.
Then her inviting arms opened to pull me in closer,
Closer to her little dark red elfin lips.
And she kissed like a robin promenading her lover,
Clutching my everything with hushed fingertips.
We created deep truthful love, all into the night,
The moans and the groans and the roar.
All over the room, all over the house,
All over the cold kitchen floor.
My lover lay there silent, in her falsified sleep,
Always waiting for her master to awake her.
With a kiss from her knight, on her lips to ignite,
She is my dame and I’m her monsieur.
Written a year ago but never entered into a contest, thought it might suit Mystic Roses Red contest.
waterlilies promenading
in a lonesome pond
are glimmering jewels
of green onyx and emerald
exuding empyrean elegance
of your perennial aura
oh, the purplish water
that holds her tiny roots
gently interchanging
like a melody transposing
from monophony to polyphony
whilst lilac and sandstone petals
dance with its rhythmic flow
my young heart melts
as leaves in varied hues
of emerald and jade
reflect the kiss of sunlight
like the sparkle in your eyes
when I whisper, "I love you"
17 March 2021
Notes:Water Lilies (or Nymphéas, French: [n?~.fe.a]) is a series of approximately 250 oil paintings by French Impressionist Claude Monet (1840–1926). The paintings depict his flower garden at his home in Giverny, and were the main focus of his artistic production during the last thirty years of his life. Many of the works were painted while Monet suffered from cataracts. (Photo and info credits to Wikipedia )
All Yours ( March 17) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
1st place
Oupa Dean ! With Him she brushed shoulders, forty years ago,
on a rainy twilight down Adderley Street caressing yellow freesias,
bought by her late tea date.
Flower sellers on The Parade delighted with sale.
Mind flashed an evening recall three centuries
earlier, same TwinSoul promenading down Rue des
Iris soon after the 1636 French-Spanish conflict, her name then, Amoré.
Moon-Tears rained French defeat on street,
lamps casting moist shadows across black hats
~ Realities flow into one another, clutching yellow freesias.
At popular Pennsylvania State Fair,
ponies were preparing for prissy pony pageant,
promenading ponies' pretty polished hooves,
parading promoter, Percival Poppycock,
promised prize-
pauses, perplexed,
as Penelope Percheron,
a primping draft horse,
prances into pavilion,
petite ponies patter,
prima donna Penelope presents
perfumed self,
pricey pink ribbons, pearly teeth,
panache!
Prestigious panel of judges
promptly present Penelope as
"Princess Pony",
she pirouettes, pulverizes display
of plentiful pumpkins,
pummeling stands,
pure pandemonium,
people, popcorn, peanuts everywhere,
Penelope picks herself up,
proceeds with precious Princess Pony prize,
proudly preening,
positively pompous!
Transports of hereafter
pass one leaf to unclasped heaps.
Flirty winds rearrange the hedgerow plumage,
wisp in gentle whispers.
Chipping sparrows play hid and seek
with a watery sunlight.
Business is flourishing for the snuffling groundhog.
It’s the narrow part of the day,
a shoaling light ripples where squirrels dart.
A Blue Jay raps his usual rib-digging oldie.
Felicity flutters the loose and drifting:
the soft green carousels of evening,
the pirouette and circumvolve promenading.
Leaf bundles are ransacked by delving voles
but gently.
Seeing all this
I paint the hedgerow again with this eventide wash,
watch it all spun into dusk
from these owl bright eyes.
an awesome
benevolent blowy breeze
cleverly concealed, contrived
dastardly deeds of destruction
expressing excitement and enthusiasm
for faithful forever forest firs
giving giant gusts gorgeous guesses
however hardy hemlock heralded heavy happiness
independently indulged, indigenous illuminations illustrated
juxtaposed joyous jumping jiggly junipers
kibitzing killer kleptomaniacal kittens
lounging luxuriously as lemon laughing laborers lollygagged
making monstrously melodic memory music
nebulously needing neverland’s notorious Neptune
Ostentatiously ogling oleander’s offending odors
Promoting promenading, prick preening pines
Quashing quarrelsome Quixotic quails quickly
Reaching Red Oaks’ rhyming rhythm
Securing sassy sexy, sensual sequoia’s secrets
Tantalizing teasing talk toward trees’ temperatures
Understanding unspoken underlying Unitarian underlays
Vexing various variegated veins
Washing wonderful walnuts’ wanderlust
‘xacting ‘xasperating ‘xcitement
young, youthful, yipping
zephyr!
He’s together now, they say,
turned out, free to walk the street;
adult child turned out to play
amid grey walls of concrete
streets strewn with disposed joys,
the stench of human fluids.
Bozos wave their lethal toys;
aging goths, pseudo druids,
faces lit by flashing screens.
promenading, zombie-dead
watch desperate dancing teens,
nature’s lemmings, AI lead.
He’s together now, He’s told,
so discharged, they need the bunk;
adult child thrown in the cold
amid barely walking drunk
searching, seeking that which numbs
the pain, soul-crushing shame.
Left to beg for others’ crumbs
he just has himself to blame
they say, go scare up some work.
he does, then try as he might
he’ll catcall some guy a jerk,
end up in another fight.
Take a pot, heat it hot.
Scratch it dry.
Scrape up any brown, dry left-over bits.
Check the sides as well.
Sniff the seance of conjured smells.
Imbibe the well-up of wafting aromas.
OK, now, dry-run done, you've begun.
Note: To cook this soup, make your own stuff up,
nothing packaged, tinned, frozen, dried or jarred, please.
For concoctions make less happenstance.
All the come-up essence is drained, abstained.
Add 3, 6 or 9 cups of hot chicken stock to the hot pot,
not cold, lest it splatter and scatter.
Add any amount of any kind of vegetables you like,
Color, crunch, bite and texture is what you're after.
Crinkle-cut the veggies in hotchpotch of shapes and sizes.
Make triangles, squares, diamonds, heart and tears.
Heaven-forbid not slices, dices, cubes or julienne spears.
Simmer briskly and brusquely.
Stir to get the veggies spinning and swirling,
prancing like steeds and mares on merry-go round,
up and down, round and round,
all the colors and shapes,
promenading around on show.
Next, season liberally and decidedly,
with salt, chillies and pepper.
Then, add a cacophony crescendo of herbs and spices.
Don't hold back, go on, let it go and all hang out.
Make your taste buds stand-up and take notice,
Add heaps of umami, to your bouquet garni of herbs.
Simmer revealed, fully naked, with the lid off,
until all is tender and nice done.
Serve in bowls, hot and steamy,
with shredded and torn
mere mortal, morsels
of crusty bread.
Every spring, I remember the Exodus story.
How the twelve tribes became free from slavery,
Escaping across the wind parted Red Sea, is a mystery.
Easter in Italy, "Pasqua" is an echo of Passover history.
In England, Easter is the modern Exodus.
Good Friday through to Easter Monday.
It's a good long weekend holiday for us,
To be spent driving on a jammed motorway.
Hurrah! At last we see the sea at the seaside.
Saturday starts with "Full English Breakfast".
Then, promenading on Brighton Pier with pride.
Easter Monday evening, time to go home at last!
Romans demolished Jerusalem's Temple for all to see.
The twelve tribes became slaves in the diaspora.
In Rome these captured slaves eventually became free
To sing the "Song of the (Red) Sea" at Pasqua.
Falling asleep is such sweet sorrow!
Alas, lullabies are so 'Yesterday''!
It started with counting sheep:
Knit one, Purl One,
Knit two Together,
Promenading One by One,
Fluffy Cute Wee little Lambs,
Jumping over a fence.
One, two, three, four........
zzzzzzzzzzz
But, the shepherds
shooed the flock back inside the shed.
Said it was midnight mayhem -
'duffing sheep to rustle sleep'!
So the Hypnos Somnus Gurus
required other ideas!
Up popped a new one from the Deck Chairs.
'Cognitive Shuffling of Random Letters'!
Wow that would switch
everyone off to sleep as is!
You start with a random word -
say "Pluto, or Pillow".
Then shuffle onto other "P" words -
say "Plane, Poodle, Play, Peaches"
If not asleep by then,
Move onto the "L"s or "Q"s
You get the idea!
Sleep Well, My Friend!