Long Relaxing Poems
Long Relaxing Poems. Below are the most popular long Relaxing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Relaxing poems by poem length and keyword.
Captain Meridee was the ultimate pirate queen
She was confident, but not in any way mean.
We caught her relaxing in the fierce island sun.
She said she would give us an hour, but only one.
How did you get your reputation? Asked my photographer Lee.
She gave him a look that practically took him down on one knee.
I laughed at the exchange, it was clear he was smitten with her.
Her booty stuck out with the confidence of a tiger’s, a GRRRR.
Her hair was braided in thickness that reminded me of rope.
Her well-endowed breasts made me feel like a flat-chested dope.
She had a way about her that made us back off from her a bit.
Captain Meridee was beautiful, brainy, and quite readily fit.
So you sail the seven seas? I asked, wondering if she had walked a plank.
She gave me a condescending stare, and my meager mind went blank.
She is tattooed and tart, and I imagine she was drinking a flask of rum.
She was intimidating and beautiful, sitting on a hollowed out tree gum.
Our interview went nowhere, for she was clearly in charge.
In boot camp she would have readily stared down my serge.
Captain Meridee was the ultimate pirate queen
She was confident, but not in any way mean.
Late August evening’s high
the sun set easing in deep and low
loitering and hanging in the north western sky
barely giving light to the world below.
A mix of orangey reds drifting further down
trailing below the purple blue hazed gray clouds,
remnants of a cool off day spent in town
and the populace hiding in night’s shrouds.
Hazy bluish yellows peach blends
linger across the western sky
trailing sunset colors ascend
and red burns flowing by.
August comes to its end relaxing
a quiet expose of summer life
beach dancing and splashing
ensued forgetting every struggled strife.
The season quickly spent mid way and lost
to the end of school's joyous screams
and early vacations now exhaust
holding out plans for next years dreams.
Shadows begin to creep on a covey of small wrens
exuding gladness for the coolness of the day in nite song
and singing for tomorrow just around the bend
promising to touch new themes both short and long
Late July whispered long with silent
goodbyes seemingly unchanged
the truth is nothing is as vibrant,
just forever rearranged.
Say goodbye to summer, its end of day
with July passed and spent
as all begins to slip away
the month of August promising greater intent.
Take the days remaining and enjoy their sun glowed pleasures
and time alone will recall the best displays
for every moment lived with family and friends is a treasure
in disappearing yesterdays.
Speak to me of days past and gone
reliving childhood hopes and dreams
and in those sweet memories I carry on
reveling in by gone days no longer to be seen.
During stress I transport my mind
To a place far from somewhere confined
To somewhere that is relaxing and free
Away from storms and debris
To a place where I finally belong
Where I’m very rarely wrong
It can change on a regular basis
A place where is open and spacious
The hills, the forest or on sandy beach
Nobody else to argue or preach
Day dreaming about stability
Close my eyes and everyone is healthy
Anywhere that I feel calm
Where no one will ever come to harm
Dreaming of a better life somewhere far
Looking up at the stars
Reality is stress crushing my chest
But a few moments a day make my mind rest
Sunday 2025.05.25
This morning, I arrived at the Station,
Gave the Swan Hill V-Line train a miss,
The same train which I travelled
Exactly one year ago.
When I had a relaxing and peaceful time,
At the border of NSW and Victoria.
It turned out I should catch the missed train,
To take me to Kangaroo Flat,
One stop away from Bendigo.
What significant thing about the last trip,
Was I did it without BB,
And came home to find
The back boundary fence of my property,
Was damaged by thieves that evening.
It was also due to that mishap,
Which tied me and BB
For the next six weeks,
When we carried out the project,
"Putting lipsticks on the pig"
Which was named by BB.
The ironic and sarcastic things were,
BB loved me as a friend,
Cared about my safety and well-being.
He kindly helped repairing the damaged fence,
To protect me from further burgeraries.
On the contrary and unintentionally,
I let him entering
And breaking my heart lockers,
Which I installed them more than two decades prior.
He did it very nicely, gently and kindly.
Strangely, his lovely gestures
Triggered and brought out the best in me,
Since then, I have been working hard,
To keep the flame of music passion burning
Now, I played wherever I found there was a public piano.
Five years ago, before Covid,
There used to be twenty plus of them
"Play me I am yours" was the name.
A project promoted by City Melbourne Council.
All was stored away during Covid-19,
Mainly to tackle the issues of hygiene.
Since then, there was no more of them.
If there was any one left,
They would probably be wrecked.
Whiteness falling, whirling, white swift volley
In the crisp hushed winter's cold bite degree.
Nipping flakes; light-dark night body lolly.
Gathers on glass pane quite liberally.
Dusk begins to wane, relaxing white sea.
Whiteness falling, whirling, white swift volley.
I wake up with the halls deck with holly.
Daze, dash down the halls, dive under the tree.
Nipping flakes; light-dark night body lolly.
Filled with light, I'm in heaven most jolly.
I cheer on one knee, "Christmas gifts for me!"
Whiteness falling, whirling, white swift volley.
The dawn brought new-fallen snow. Oh! Golly!
Outside world cloak in white glitter to see.
Nipping flakes; light-dark night body lolly.
Hope Santa knows I've been nice, wishfully.
There wouldn't be a single toy; yes siree.
Whiteness falling, whirling, white swift volley,
Nipping flakes; light-dark night body lolly.
12/19/2020
See where I started,
in the garden of my childhood.
Fenced around with parents
hedged in with strict convention.
Walk with me.
The bare hills of ambition from my youth
lead upward, onward, overlooking
crowds and earthbound throngs.
Climb the eroding pathway to the top
whence with far-ranging envy see,
mocking,
the high peaks of distant mountains,
unattainable,
glitter their silvered summits.
Stand on these cliffs and wonder
as the seabirds plunge and soar
like hopes and aspirations
tempting disaster as fate's breakers
beat upon the rocks of past mistakes.
Walk on the clifftop, if you dare;
the tightrope of success;
never relaxing concentration,
risking the headlong plunge
from heaven to hell slowed only,
if you're lucky,
by the outstretched hand of friendship.
Now wander through these quiet woods
of contemplation,
restful and green with peaceful glades.
Soft birdsong filters shafts of sunlit
understanding,
bringing into wondering view
the undergrowth of hidden imaginings.
Sit for a while, for a short season's warmth
beside this running brook of happiness
and listen to its peaceful trills
contrapuntal to the murmured sounds
of slow, contented summer,
tranquil in a lover's arms beneath
the frantic beauty of the skylark's song.
Descend these nameless, slippery paths
that lead through the dark places
to the chasms,
to the lonely depths of black despair
where midnight terrors lurk
in deep, dank caves of restless sleep
and every monster's shadow looms
large and overbearing.
I offer you no final resting place,
no welcoming tavern for a lifetime's thirst,
no sheltered bungalow to care for
after work well done.
Only a cross-roads in a barren place
where a blind fingerpost
hints at unseen directions,
untravelled paths with unknown travellers
crossing.
Walk with me.
Kim James
26/5/95
Towers stabbing tall into the sky,
Broadway plays that catch the eye,
finance’s center, here it lies…
Manhattan is a city that works
(but it’s filled with loud, self-important jerks).
Sun-bathed coat and silver screens,
glitz and glamour and action scenes,
the city of lights, the city of dreams…
You should come by and stay a while
(especially if a rapist or pedophile).
Maple-tappers working in spring,
hordes of tourists gone skiing,
small, quaint towns, so relaxing…
Green Mountains, pleasant to the eye
(this is where old hippies go to die).
Coal mines fueling this great land,
hollows, moonshine, and deer stands,
a place where work makes the man…
Where you can still find an old homestead,
(just ignore the opioids and meth heads).
Monuments tall, for heroes past,
Potomac waters, well-manicured grass,
elected folk of wisdom and class…
working hard for freedom and good,
(they’d put us all in camps, if they could).
leave it alone
it aint worth fixin
o many actor
in this kitchen
turn it loose
leave it alone
what was love
it's now gone
alway someone else
involved in your business
knowing things
that keeps you senseless
i'm so tired
they don't won't me relaxing
turn me loose
and let me go
you aint changing
cause you aint honest
a shady character
in our affairs
you let him in
and you won't let him
go
i'll tell the world
for all to know
turn me loose
and let me go
guess I complicated
what was decent
you needed clarity
from someone else
strengths and weakness
to gain a better understanding
I look to tomorrow
for recommending
sorted answers
leave me wondering
what opportunities
you offer to me
to recreate
our goal and mission
turn me loose
if that aint so
stop your falsing
just let me go
They are sitting in a patch.
They are relaxing, and playing catch.
They are waiting to be chosen.
To sit on someone’s porch, frozen.
Pumpkins have vines.
Which is fine.
Until they are cut.
Then the pumpkin feels a rut.
When first picked, they have a glow.
But really, they are rotting slow.
But it doesn't end there.
Into the pumpkin, they cut out a square.
An eye and nose.
Then a candle, I suppose.
A jack-o-lantern transformation.
These pumpkins are sitting in formation.
Despite all they went though,
They are outshined, it is true.
By giant skeletons, and ghosts on the lawn.
Candles always lose their light by dawn.
They were sitting in a pumpkin patch.
They were just trying to have fun playing catch.
Until they were cut from their vine.
And for the rest of the season, they are destined to shine.
I was getting so restless,
And anger was taking over me,
Making me go wild and senseless,
Running through dense forest in my head,
Searching for some light in my lifeless life.
Light that could show me the way ,
The way towards some warmth ,
Warmth that can get rid of my cold stinging pain ,
I always needed "someone" to lead me to that light,
And I failed every time to find that "someone".
My breath hitched but i didn't wanna stop,
I was desperate for my escape,
My escape from my dying life,
My heart was telling me that I ....
That I was so close to finding that "someone".
Suddenly it was so bright,
So bright that i couldn't see my dark past,
I found the light....
The light that keeps me light,
The light that keeps me warm.
The burden I carried until now was gone,
All the evils threatening me were now gone,
All of my pain was gone,
Everything that removed smile from my face was just gone,
I feel so happy and safe.
I tried to find the source of my 'light',
That made me smile once again,
That made me "the me" before I fell into an evil maze,
Where I drained all of my energy for nothing,
And lost myself in it.
A sudden realization hit me ,
The one that I was trying to find all along,
that "someone" and,
The one I chased after to find happiness ,
That bright 'light' is,
Is none other than me.
I now chuckled thinking that,
I was chasing and finding for myself,
I closed my weary eyes ,
Relaxing and forgetting all the sleepless nights,
Feeling myself,the precious me,
All I wanted now is to live longer,
Live longer for myself !