Long Scamp Poems
Long Scamp Poems. Below are the most popular long Scamp by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scamp poems by poem length and keyword.
Farewell, au revoir, goodbye, convivial summer.
The day is late now, and the breeze is warmer.
A vacant ocean-side barricaded motel.
Wild geese are soon flying in lines as well.
Vacation homes drop their literate barricades.
This rich sweeping green tone will soon fade.
In this season, buds and fruits are abundant.
Melons and garden load are ardent.
Tanned skin, sailboats, and folded linen suits.
When the world is more positive than disputes,
Pollen irritates the sinuses of sensitive patients.
Now they've fled to the farm, the coast nascent.
Stop their passing endeavor at escape.
The Ferris wheel in LEGOLAND is agape.
The Cape no longer trades in quirkiness.
A glum family descends from the murkiness.
To welcome their offspring back from camp.
Mature year, scarlet maple boughs, raised scamp.
Sunburned shoulders disappear at summer's end.
Goodbye to the peasant's headband.
Goodbye storms and dirty white shoes.
Goodbye summer friends, pants, shorts, and cruse.
Farewell, tennis peculiar desire to be difficult.
Farewell picnics, ice tea, and plane trips, munificent.
Written: August 19, 2022
You crouch low behind a tree
anticipating my fate.
And hiding where I can't see
you grin and patiently wait.
Then suddenly, you appear
wearing your smile like a shield.
And unable to get clear,
I have no choice but to yield.
I laugh hysterically
till trickles of pee begin.
But you won't stop tickling me,
much to my shame and chagrin.
Then you flee, you little scamp,
leaving me upset and wet.
And you think that you're the champ,
but this isn't over yet.
You got me this time, my dear,
but you'll soon pee yourself too.
For when your daddy gets here,
we're both gonna tickle you!
(Quatrain)
5/4/2015
Let’s bring back the GOOD OLD DAYS
Grab that washboard and some lye soap
Hang those wet clothes on a limp rope
Chop some wood, build a fire
The kids new swing a worn out tire
Park that car up on the front “lawn”
‘cause all the gasoline is gone
Wash your dishes in a bucket
When ya poop don’t dare to flush it
Separate and please recycle
returning home on your BI-CYCLE
after dark, laundry’s still damp
where’s my NEW kerosene lamp
I’m setting traps for squirrel and rabbit
Meat eating’s such a FILTHY HABIT
I read a book, I’m such a scamp
Under an incandescent lamp
Gotta go, it’s almost sun-up
Gotta go and guard my turnips
But first I’ll eat my Covid Era Pop Tarts
And get arrested for my Methane Gas Farts
The joy of birth, the growing up,
leads us to adore our lovely babies.
But not, alas, without the toils of life.
Because we experience a lack of sleep,
contend with baby vomit,
or idiotically putting on his boxer shorts
completely the wrong way around.
Yet all is part of being loving
to a newborn child. Sometimes
I get the weird, unworldly feeling
that I'm the worst grandpa of all.
Perhaps it's just that I'm getting old.
Try lifting the chubby scamp a little while
and oh my poor back simply aches.
And if he cries I must find out
what ails the urchin, my dearest pet.
A dirty nappy? Someone take care,
mother or granny, it's their job I'm afraid.
But if it's a bottle of milk he wants,
or nibbling a few small pieces of cereal,
then I am game. Bring on the glorious food.
And when he sleeps, I'm just in heaven,
contemplating the profound miracle of life.
For though he's not directly mine,
he's the continuation of my genetic line.
And so I worry if he coughs or wheezes,
or falls whilst crawling, adding to his bruises.
Awake he's smiling, a gurgling bundle of joy
that makes me proud, he's Nicholas my boy.
NB Nicholas, my grandson, is now 18 years old, studying dentistry at University (first in class) and has a driver's licence too.
GOODLUCK
Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Our feeble lord enforced by pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes)
On congruent grounds of pain we forced him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail waiting surrogate to lead to unending journey of relief
Lackluster, jejune as pervading rot lingers
Unvaried captain rocks our boat, gagged around by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, pauperdom and miseries mocks the reign of naivety.
Kleptocrat adorn self in regalia, loved the honor. lacks duty
EBELE
Embezzlers of collective trust bequeathed in hope,
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched our obtuse scamp
Egregious, craven, shrieked at the sound of war (I am not a lion)
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps
Encumbrances from his delinquent clan divide the love for mother land
DAME
Damp squib's duchess of indecent tongue, never feels a vestige of restraint
Academic 'double misnomer' with licence to libel,
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations,
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
PATIENCE
Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults
Adventurous nerve for futile globe trot
Twitchy at the affairs of state, though Unemployed by sensible Poll
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity
Euphemistic drama Usurps Scrappy literacy on cultured observers
Crude verbiages to amuse myriad of eggheads (my Fellow widows)
Encomium of Yesterday's approval turned sour and Tsar inept mode prevails
Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking for 2015)
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi" echoed NO to mistimed removal,
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looted the poor to a blindfold
Tyrannic cloaked his garb in power busted on the streets with the troop
Higgledy-piggledy bugled the travesty of Democracy
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured among a troop we die helpless
yours truly of course trolling, try
ying to stay afloat sigh
ying with forlorn resignation
as the air supply
precipitously abba salute lee
decreased, thru challenge
hang IP course
to bridge (yar
suspended animus) bee
tween das father,
and first born daughter,
this papa analogously stranded
amidst the imagined
raging river Kwai
clinging stubby phalanges
pinned tingled, pinched,
numbed gnarled slip
eerily gripping, clinging,
and aching fingerhut toes
did severely cramp
'pon glacial parental frieze,
plus notepad kept
in shirt pocket
ocean spray got damp
fortunately, these digitized
with binary stamp
portfolio of poems
didst dry by lamp
light, nsync with external
hard drive secured
multi media stored data
from this scamp
purring adventurer of amp
pull lat hood,
the high seas across
world wide web, I did tramp.
I know a scamp who chortles frabjously
as in the springtime galumphing he goes.
And just to show how wacky he can be,
he makes his tongue point up to touch his nose!
He has no wicked claws or eyes with flame
to match those of the manxome Jabberwock.
But just beware his jaws. Although he’s tame,
he can’t be stopped once he begins to talk!
I vouch that he can jabber endlessly
and have me at the end of my short rope.
My ears just might fall off one day, for he
gyres gibberish just like a gyroscope.
I dub my beamish grandson “Jabberwack”
for how he acts and how he loves to yak!
For Debbie Guzzi's "Go Ask Alice" Contest
I remember them well -the four young men who
came to be of the guys I'd dated the ones most special to me.
One boy at a church camp, as sweet as could be,
wrote letters to me. His devotion was true,
and when we could meet, we would walk hand in hand.
My first boyfriend. Puppy love was so grand.
The second one whom I will never forget
was a bit of a scamp, yet he still stole my heart.
I loved how he teased me, and right from the start,
I adored this cute guy; I do not regret
that though nothing developed, at least I got this:
the son of a preacher man taught me to kiss!
The third I remember was tall, and his eyes
were vividly blue; such a good upright lad
felt guilty for being just a tad bad!
Whoever he married has won a great prize.
Our fingers as they intertwined remains still
my fondest recall of an innocent thrill.
The fourth is the last, the most special of all.
He lives on and on in my memory
and in the passion of my poetry.
A beauty was he with moves to enthrall . . .
His gaze I’ll enshrine forever in rhyme.
My dream, my desire. How fleeting our time!
Sept. 5, 2018 for Shadow Hamilton's Remember Poetry Contest
You came into our lives a spark.
A blur of chestnut red,
Igniting us with canine love,
And nestling by our bed.
Chasing swallows in the park
That teased you in their flight,
Relentlessly you chase them still.
In the fading springtime light.
Every time I make the tea,
Teaspoon clinking in the mug,
I feel your paw around my leg
captive of the setter hug.
I take you into work sometimes
But you’re not always compliant.
Nudging my elbow with your muzzle
Sniffing each and every client.
When, bleary eyed, I rise each day
A drum beat from the sofa
Peaks as I descend the stairs,
From our dishevelled, four legged, loafer.
With head bowed low, the “trophy trot”
Announced my kitchen blunder.
I’d left the butter on the bench
A prize you had to plunder !
On our summer twilight walks
You stand and raise your paw,
If dawdling rabbits dare to stray,
Gun dog rising to the fore..
Sometimes I have to leave you
Shut the door, put on the sneck.
I glimpse those brown eyes widen
Just like “Puss in Boots” from Shrek !
You have a penchant for my socks
They disappear most every day,
I’d love to wear a matching pair
But you have stashed them all away.
On lazy Sunday afternoons
Lying peacefully asleep,
The noise of next doors wheelie bin
Soon pulls you from the deep
Then with scamp and scatter
Scrambling to the patio door,
Take your position by the fence
Bark like you’ve never barked before !
I never would have walked the miles
Seen the seasons come and go,
On every walk, see natures wealth,
Red gold sunsets fading, glow…..
You are always at my side
I know life could not be better.
A bond so precious and secure,
I am blessed to own a setter.
Copyright © Mike Miller
Tingly skies full of surprise oh how I love when with surmise,
the little rascal aims his dart as if it were, poetic art !
Unpredictable seas with droplets that spray oh how the sharp rocks being where they lay,
Affects how sea nymphs stalk and capture their prey as if it were, a play !
Restless winds pervade the air oh how the clouds suggest a dare,
Looking like sheep jumping over fences oh how it stirs the sky and senses !
Crackling fire illuminating the shadows of the night oh how with mysteries of the light,
Animals will watch the humans make camp as if each camper is, a scamp !
Powerful gaze holding years of hope oh how with vulnerability and the will to cope,
Looks knowingly into the void as if it were, a mental sanctuary to be employed !
Unstoppable magnetism attracts us to one oh how unexpected, powerful and fun,
When cupid’s arrow aims for you, there isn’t much that you can do !