Long Romps Poems
Long Romps Poems. Below are the most popular long Romps by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Romps poems by poem length and keyword.
This is another night, deceiving myself
to be awake...blinded by the sight of
my own surreal wisp of a mellow dream
raking and turning into long reveries,
where something once pleasant is now so trite-
that Illusions of fresh morn quickly blacken
... snuffing whispers of a shadowy wind
slowly retracing its glide into my cries.
Every night, at the sight of darkened moonlight
purple lines of evening air heralds pain--
wind arriving from behind, hushed and still,
that I hide my face from such musky flavor,
carrying scents of our autumnal romps
and remind me of wind songs, play, soft cuddles
pressed in heavenly light, to whisper love
about you, young son high up now with blue stars:
And In his court are a thousand jewels
twinkling from afar with this soft wind cuddling
me in your arms to say, ' all is right, Mama.'
The duet of a garden's music in June,
afloat with all the season's notes can bring...
The milder one is where chant of orioles
join honeyed air's refrain
as dragonflies flip a spin to answer
the humming pampas on the lawn.
And how the mutter of a pond
swishes around Grandma's flower beds
where laughter wisps and sneakers squeak--
Then, the other one-- a more raucous tremolo;
loud chuckles of youngsters pitching
through hollers beneath white clouds
yelling away for a doughnut fete,
paired with alto voices of neighbors gabbing.
But no matter-- this garden is our magical place
to quench a thrill from romps
far beyond skyscape's tapestry
when hours wheeze by
into this rhapsodic spring - duet...
a cycle's buoyant grace pulsing on and on.
Double Exposure Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
5/21/2020
A swarm of whispers kisses my face
Like tender blossoms, a full view;
In morning’s bid, I find thrilled embrace
Through good-bye romps as sunrise debuts
On fragrant petals carousing dew.
My eyes follow his parting tracks on wings
As day rouses wisps of garlands’ crowns,
Clusters of buds wheeze a mild buzzing
To invite play, bouquets tap on ground
Their hemlines sway, waltzing all around.
When hours cling of delight, time endures
And I breathe him as buds fondle my hands,
But purple descends to weave sleep’s lure;
Sadly, florets close as night expands
Till he arrives, with roses on strands.
For Francine Roberts'Contest
Romance Me with English Quintains
by nette onclaud
2 nov 2012
Rain ©
I walk on slick shine streets
in the night with my lover.
Freshly out of bed and ravenous
for other food, he pauses and
licks the tears and rain drops
from my face.
Rain in its many moods
quickens to sweep the earth and
skies clean.
Settles on the skin like a damp
kiss. Cold, warm, sweet, clean,
sharp, rain.
Is designer bottled water
merely rain drops from afar?
The dog romps through the rain,
in his perfect raincoat, oblivious
to the wet.
Blinking owlishly when a drop
should fall into his eye.
Mysterious primates of the forest
sit forlornly, beneath the
umbrella leaf.
Forever patient as the skies
rupture with a torrential deluge.
Human-tender eyes reflect their
disgust and sadness at the wet,
messy coats they must wear.
The equine turn their haunches
to the storm to show their scorn
for nature’s tantrum.
Cats run for cover, sit
majestically removing the
wet rain from their person with a
wet tongue.
Wild fowl dance across the circle
patterns of the pond’s face,
beating their wings and singing.
They frolic and dive celebrating
the sublime circumstance of
being wet.
Man spends energy and money
to keep himself dry and safe
from the rain, darting from
doorway to doorway.
What does he fear? He won’t
melt if he gets soaked, he won’t
become ill or grow fins, and he
just might get clean.
Snow is rain in its wedding attire;
no two brides alike.
The rain drop falls into a rivulet
of other rain drops atop the
mountain.
The rivulet runs into the creek,
the creek into a stream.
The stream rushes to the river
and the river falls into the sea.
The rain drops turn to salty tears
as the journey ends.
It is said that chickens, if left out
in the rain, will lift their heads up
to the sky and watch the rain
until they drown.
Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets
“Wind and Waves eternally speak to us, sometimes in hushed murmurs and sometimes in violent roars. We do not know what they speak. They may be trying to convey the calm and the fury of Nature in turn”- ~ By Poet
I hear a wind whispering from the hills
It comes down tickling the clean woodland rills
From far is heard the frightened murmur of leaves
As it pounces on them like wayside thieves
It shakes the branches of flowering trees
And their petals drop like confetti in the breeze
Over hills and trees, it loves to skip and stray.
Always in motion, never inclined to stay
It moves unhampered over streams and field
With no resistance to its might, they simply yield
Like a child, it romps over the shady bowers
In its gentle touch, dances the gleeful flowers
Sometimes it steals furtively like a lover
And disappears kissing our cheeks under cover
It comes capering with a lilt and a swing
We feel joyous when we hear it merrily sing
From an unknown hide out it comes like a sprite.
It always makes us feel its vigorous might
Listen to the wind, it may have something to teach!
Dash of snow flutters to the ground
And lands O gently all around;
White as velvet quilt of feather
To drift upon Yule's iced heather:
Bare now after Queen Winter's hand
Covering lanes from bright hues grand;
Which transforms the pines with finesse
And silver stars of gracefulness.
Yet night gleams through crystals so bold
Adorning roofs.... bright joys enfold;
O pearled flakes that warm and spill
Through tuneful romps of love's goodwill...
How children hail the dance of snow
On an EVE blessing life, aglow!
Best Rhyming Poem --Oct-Dec 2017
For John Hamilton's Contest 1/2/2018
Originally Written :12/9/2017 Rhyme Form- Couplet
Speak succinct say
Prime poignant play
Ply party points
Jerk juicy joint
Booze bubbly bright
Set sensuous sights
Prize puzzle prompt
Rich rapture romps
Nude naughty niche
Reap roomy rich
Sonic scoop slays
Dance dizzy day
Weave wonder well
Touch tickles tell
More mindless moves
Glimpse guzzling grooves
Loud laughter looms
Zesty zoo zooms
Tipsy turns toil
Savvy shades spoil
Brisk bouncy bursts
Taste thrilling thirsts
Grapple gifts grand
Face funny friends
Jest jolly jumps
Sweet specials sum
Spur swirling sounds
Prize pickles pound
Jazz jury jest
Feed fickle fest
Big bloopers bite
Craft crazy cites
Leon Enriquez
02 September 2017
Singapore
(Dedication: For Demetrios Trifiatis)
Troy and sure war, Trojans and Greeks;
Report mad flaws -- rouse warriors' peak;
On for ten years, on both sides dwell;
Yes tear for tear, yes death did well!
Urge firms glory, urge frames action;
Love of country, love of duty;
Yield to vain sire, yield to grand thought;
See siege and fire, see plan and plot;
Sense raging seas, sense warring ways;
Etch destiny, etch faraway;
Sacred code free, sacred code slay!
One decade's scheme, one decade's stray;
Reach for war themes, reach for home sway.
One brave man knows; one brave heart grows;
Dare siege bold war, dare wood horse show;
Yes far from kin, yes far from home;
Struggles seek win, struggles find roam;
Seek warrior's end, seek journey's rest;
Endless this blend, endless this quest;
Unleash wise sense, unleash clear scan;
Succeed suspense, succeed ascend.
Ithaca prompts, Ithaca sighs;
Trust warring romps, trust homeward cry;
Heed the musings, heed the warnings;
Apt questioning, apt answering;
Choice brought your here, choice takes you there;
Apply good cheer, apply heart's care!
Calm and stern poise, calm and brave flight;
Apply sure voice, apply fond sight;
Love takes you where? Love brought you here?
Live your harsh fare, live your prized spheres;
Survive trials' glare, survive life's tears.
Yes shrewd and brave, yes calm and clear;
Opt tact that saves, opt plan that steers;
Use fool and knave, use con and cheer!
Home floods your heart, home calls your face;
Offer pure art, offer sure trace;
Mind what you find, mind what you meet;
Effort you bind, effort you greet.
Hero of fate, hero of old;
Echoes unbraid, echoes unfold;
Realms of Greek yore, realms of Homer;
Old tales before, old times yonder.
Leon Enriquez
13 Mar 2014
Singapore
I lingered at loves' door
Lips waiting for a kiss or two
A brush of passion
A whisp of warmth
As many lovers do
The first was quite dull
Fumbly digits all like thumbs
And when it came to kissing
A mouth equipped with a serpents
Tongue nimble agile and erotic
Flickering across my eyes , my lips,
The nape of my neck beastly he was.
The second was tall a voice that any
Woman would pride herself as the
Victor for his serenade prowess
But his beastly nose,dripped, his large
Ears flapped very much like a tiny pigs
And the hair on his chest was about
Four inches long I could have combed it
Collected it and knitted slippers with it.
Number three awe, he was a ballroom dancer
Nimble, thighs and buttocks firm , strong
Thoughts of a snake wrapping its prey came to
Mind when I looked at his legs.
He could spin his partner, toss her up catch her
Throw her and gently dip her and kiss her with
His deepest hungry oceanic green eyes.
Not a hair on his body. Muscular, nimble.
A gentle quiet , yet the most sensual erotic man
I had ever seen. His confidence and gestures
Were such a tease to be so closely paired to a
Zeus in a mans body I loved him the best.
Although he always wore a mask. The allure
If the unknowing. I could only see the eyes.
He barely spoke a word. His body movements
Intertwined with mine. Tangos, waltzes, ballroom
Dances or simply barefoot romps under the moonlight
We synced in every line, gesture,nothing went
Unread.
Which pair of shorts to wear today
What color T-shirt best romps around and plays
Should I sleep in 'til eight, eight-thirty, or nine
How about 9:30, Central Daylight Time...
Hmm. It's ten already. To heck with breakfast
Before you know it, the sun'll be heading west
Think I'll mosey out back and catch a few rays
What a way to start another lazy summer's day...
Huh? I have a job to do? The toilet needs cleaning?
Oh, well. From useful work I thought I was weaning
Alright. OK. I'm on it. Give me about half an hour
Then it'll be time for my morning shower...
Ah! Nothing like luxuriating, using up all the hot H2O
So much for the laundry in the washer. That's the way it goes
And now, let me see. Oh, my! It's nearly one!
Time for lunch. And then my morning will be done...
As you see, I've got it really rough
When the tough got going
They left me behind ~
America's #1 Cream-Puff