Long Shoed Poems
Long Shoed Poems. Below are the most popular long Shoed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shoed poems by poem length and keyword.
In a mist of a perfect way
You come across in such dismay
And in the daunting of a new brilliant day
So the sun shines the clouds are now out of the way
It's a dawning falling falling fraunting calling
Hey first the bobble in the waters colors collar
Stops the flutter of the wind the calling birds falling bug crawling
Will those the birds whose been frozen
In mid flight risen trying to fly to a warmer climate
It's winter it's cold it's bold I'm told
You come across you seem a bit lost
You being held on a cross
Yet you shed no blood the weather unravels the storms
You're cold not warm
you feeling a little better and yet you're better than the lather
If by calling winter's chance if by calling springs romance if by calling
The sun to rest yet so shines even past dusk
What's the rush
Go global warming is a busk
Whom do you trust glaciers melting catastrophe flood waters covers me
Universal climate change continents being rearranged
All I can do is sink or swim
Someone recommend a pandemic
Millions of people dying complemented variance
Violence contentions murders chaos in this dimension did I mention
Blood running down the streets stepping over by non-shoed feet
I wait upon the dissension of the descending
Coming down is a bright and brilliant Son
Passive passage pastor World War II this has become
a hidden drama World War III is finally freed times that be
That new occasion has finally been amazing
Turning gold to old silver dinosaur blood was it called once oil
Global changing turning hot into cold
And yet sadness reigns dramatic disdains
The mark of the beast has finally deceased
Did you partake of his wants he said these our your needs
In the waiting of the dissension of the descending
Coming down there is a brilliant bright Son
Coming now parting the skies
Who is this descending son
Jesus King of Kings Lord of Lord
God's only Son
Now after a thousand years riegn and wait
Shall be a new Heaven and New Earth
1/4/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
He billed himself as an expert in the field of "equine podiatry",
Better known as a farrier for farmers and the cream of society!
Keeping horses shod and their hooves polished was his vocation.
With horseflesh he'd had many an interesting confrontation!
He always had a roll-yer-own dangling from his lips,
And a blackened leather apron wrapped about his hips.
His jaw was set and with biceps wrought of tempered steel,
He'd strike the anvil with his hammer - what a rhythmic peal!
In his jumbled shop he'd shod animals of many breeds.
Donkeys, mules, ponies and prized Arabian steeds.
He shoed critters pulling covered wagons to unknown frontiers,
And many a cowpokes cayuse for the round-up of his steers!
One detail they didn't cover when he was in farrier school,
Was how to deal with the occasional cantankerous mule.
Many times he'd found himself sprawled upon the dirt,
With the outline of a hoof imprinted upon his shirt!
Tho' his profession never guaranteed a life of glamour,
And knowing he'd not get rich wielding a tongs and hammer,
Yet, it was challenging working with ornery mule and horse,
Always hoisting their hindquarters very gingerly of course!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Time stopped.
Cynthia, frozen in glass shoes.
Time stopped
when she’d not accepted his proposal.
Prince Nicholas bided his time
to think. How could he persuade this lass
to wear his ring?
He looked over this fine partygoer.
She was having a ball,
so what happened?
Clues were all around.
Her fairy godmother, in stasis, hovered nearby.
Her gangly stepmother, with bulging eyes,
and two stepsisters - one in the shape of
a pumpkin, the other - catastrophically clumsy
was tripping over her own two feet, the wings
of her drink, hilariously hanging in air.
Clues all around.
His father, antagonized, annoyed, stern.
His mother, a little too sweet.
Clues all around.
Too simple, the music, a bore.
Too many wallflowers and simpleton-men
getting drunk.
Cyndi was ready to run. Every clock
in the kingdom, struck! It was midnight,
the moon, high and full, white and magical.
Ah… He walks around her, takes in her gown,
spun from the finest silk and lace. She’s full
of grace, personality and that smile
and flirtatious eyes, the bluest eyes he’s
ever seen.
Prince Nicholas, awoke only the godmother.
“Please, magical one, fix this disgrace.
Disband all this pretentiousness and lackluster.
Cheer this place so I can place
this ring upon this lass. She’s won
my heart. She’s the princess I’ve been after.”
That wand of hers, outside of time, filled the palace
with a mist. It filled each mind with happiness. Each
one filled with their happiest memories as if they
were happening. They woke up, as if from a dream,
smiling, laughing. All their senses keen.
Everyone was dancing. The colorful gowns twirling around
and impressive suitors courting with buoyant steps.
Midnight struck its halfway chorus, as the prince bent down
on knee and asked Cyndi to be
forever his. “I don’t know what I was thinking a moment ago,
Nicky, but yes…yes…yes. A thousand times yes!”
Did they live happily forever after? With a few kinks -
after all, life is not boring. And marriage must be
figured out with time. Occasionally-
at the midnight chime, Cyndi’s fairy godmother, would hold
the hands of the clock and lift everyone’s spirits.
The stepmother, her pumpkin and left-shoed children,
were carried away in a coach to Bumpkinland, far far
far far far away.
8/19/2022
"The End of America"
remember
when
we danced
our fingers
mapping
velvet secrets
across scorched
skin whispering
smiles encouraging
a little lovely
wanton sin
like we were
playing keys
turning our
worlds over
for words
unlocking
hearts
you could
taste the
salt pools
satin tongues
like book marks
parked in life
tidal pulsing
swelling over
into musky curves
bittersweet
like toffee
we melted
into double helix
spoons
shuffling sides
bending
over like
music sybaritic
needle piercing
into groove
deep stirred
we thought
we could
write
the whole thing
like a never-ending
sticky noir romance
tasting honey
in each other
we burned
like a forest fire
fathoms deep
into what
was encased
in our bodies
our truth
torched
like Liberty
falling
then our world
changed
war soft shoed
it’s blood dripping
lips around the
throbbing dreams
of our forgotten youth
we swallowed
gagging
on the truth
over all too soon
pass the tissues
wiped clean
and senseless
we left the room
before what slept
opened its eyes
rudely waking
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Clumsy knock about clown endears
Bubble blown, unicycling, tightrope dance
Underneath charisma, after the cheers
Grinning sinister inkling stirs up fears
Guise causes unnerved scare's enhance
Aside from a smattering of film features
What strikes terror of tumbling funny fool?
Stealth beguiling starshine easily beseeches
Skillful smiling juggler, charm widely reaches
Clapping audience, varied susceptible pool
Cunning assists any intended criminal
Never ending hanky story, needed device
Whilst being appeased, message subliminal
Strategy of fake face, stab in back abysmal
Convinced victims fall for honk nosed entice
Misgiving for characters larger than life
Natural response, harks prehistoric origins
Gleam eyed charmer warns of looming strife
Cuts familiars with pantaloon stashed knife
Trust's betrayal, robbed ones acknowledging
Faith in flamboyant rubber flower thruster burst
Smack faced shock of a dozen popped balloons
Act of slapstick big shoed tricks well rehearsed
Damaged willing givers wish they thought first
Listen to their instinct, instead of lullaby croon
Written 29th July 2020 for Brian Strand's
Any Form, Any Theme, Completely New, Volume 15
Issy was in first year at Exeter University,
Coming home from a trip to the cinema,
Travelling in a car at 60mph, high velocity,
When they were hit by another vehicle.
Six months in hospital, crushed five ribs,
A severed liver, and a badly broken back,
Left hand with impaired movement, no fibs,
And she was waist paralysed, she did lack.
The hospital was Stoke Mandeville, best,
And as part of her rehabilitation valued,
She did shooting. At Uni she’d had a fest,
In the sport of hockey which she’d shoed.
Someone called Vlad gave her a gun,
Set her arm and hand in a solid posture,
Said “Ok” and that's where it all did sun,
Her career in shooting began in pasture.
To this day she trains at Stoke Mandeville,
Lives in Cirencester in Glousestershire.
She was born on 19th of April in 1994, trill,
And plays badminton and rugby hellfire.
She took part in the Szczecin World Cup,
Poland, in 2014, just a year after starting,
And so made it to Rio where she did sup,
The atmosphere in the P2-10m shooting.