Long Skate Poems
Long Skate Poems. Below are the most popular long Skate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Skate poems by poem length and keyword.
4 o’clock on a Sunday, shadows skate
on cinder block walls.
Calico cries crease and fold
the still evening air.
She pushes a cart, plastic wheels
grating warped concrete.
Dry dust stains the stones,
as she shuffles slippered feet,
silent as a snowy alley.
The cart parks on the corner of Hill and Nottingham.
She sets ceramic saucers on the wall
and fills them both with seventy-year-old
dexterity and homemade tuna salad.
The meows pour forth in a matted wave.
We all sip lemonade and smoke long
cigarettes from the porch as we watch
Miss Dowry’s Stray Cat Buffet.
Good morning, my love, my heart’s sweetest song,
I’m still smiling from that night, you won all along.
Watching you skate beneath those lights so bright,
You were pure magic, my love, my knight.
The rink was cold, but my heart was warm,
Seeing you conquer, calm in the storm.
Every stride, every goal, every spark in your eyes—
You took my breath beneath those skies.
I wish I could wake beside you today,
Trace the dreams your victory made.
Kiss your tired hands, your steady heart,
And whisper how proud I am, my shining star.
You’re more than a win, more than the game,
You’re my forever, my favorite flame.
So good morning, my love—rest, and know
You shine brighter than any ice could glow.
Spring Beauty and the Beast
Tenderly Spring sends harbingers of beauty,
Knights errant of crocus and snowdrops,
To warm winter’s shopworn heart
And soothe his brittle bones of barren boughs
With balms of long jonquil sunbeams
Melting the grumpy curmudgeon’s stronghold,
As pussy willows decorate his solstice doldrums
She watches snowflakes skate across thawing ponds.
Spring sends a redwing blackbird song
To lift Winter’s decrepit heart
In shy rhapsodies of new butterflies and lady bugs
Engaging Winter’s gloomy frown
Into transcendent blue-eyed welkins like Forget-Me-Nots
Then chants déjà vu in veils of daffodils
As spritely Sweet Peas adorn
Winter’s faded doorstep.
Beauty soothes the beast
Touching the ice-blue armor of his heart
With Hyacinth whispers
And sighs of zephyrs like a fluffy Snowball;
In the Lilac scent of a new equinox
Winter dozes wrapped in Spring’s enchantment
As she sings lullabies of reminiscent hibernation
Until he strides past halcyon autumn shadows again.
2-24-23
Contest: In Bloom
Sponsor: Joseph May
DEAD END STREET --WHY do dead end roads Exist
"Are you my enemy, if you’re not my friend?
Alternative exit without exit should be posted dead end
When “Google” tells you turn right at the bend
Daylight night time Run Johnny Run gets dark at ten
~
Its GPS systems “Google” shows and tells you the road there
Maybe curb site lodging house in front of thee
As connecting when they actually do not trail, where?
I fell off the rugged deep end plummeting free
~
Keeping wheels on the road round, round you go
Rounded end to facilitated to slow, flow on cul-de-sacs
I driving off the freeway, spinning my way to and fo
Up down alleys down yield, slow, stop, dead end signs surface
~
Disconnected streets filled with trash cans, homeless and police
Crimes and gangs’ darkness rends why do dead end roads exist?
Limit through-traffic in residential areas.
Conjure up visions of quiet suburban bliss,
Curb line barrier curbs sidewalks houses meet barriers
Far removed from dangers and noisy high-speed traffic
~
One with low wages and no hope of promotion
No speeders, skate boarder, permitted on the shoulders
Cul-de-sac deadlock stalemate blank wall blind alley
Catch me if you can you can’t I am running blindly
~
Short street with a bulbous end, or even to the end just a portion
Why do neighborhoods have dead ends?
A long road that is a no-through road and terminates abruptly
All those speed bumps, curbs, Cul-de-sac deadlocks not our friends
~
Dead ends are added to road layouts in urban planning
To limit through-traffic in residential areas no one carrying
Is the dead end a road or street, an alley or sidewalk meet
No through road or no exit road,
Is a street with only one inlet or outlet?
When you come upon a dead end"
11/13/23
DEAD END STREET Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
W I N T E R
B R E A K S
N A T U R E
A W A K E S
G A R D E N
A S L E E P
&
an oldie reposted
Fields flooded into skating rinks
into which each footstep sinks,
cracking under body weight so
not the best place to skate.
Thawing February of twitching noses
in tussocks of woken primroses.
Rummaging on hazel boles,hibernating mammals
poke from the holes.
Leafless hedgerows , buds now form
a carpet of white corm,
Badgers forage food near their sett
renewing the bracken scented couchette.
Nature pair off in twos
lengthening days come into view.
aconite open in rays of sun
below, yellow catkins tails fine spun.
Osier shoots in green corn camomile
early Spring mornings begin to smile.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007
I’m in sandals.
Mid-morning.
Thoughts of Midgard
and Northmen.
And sturdystock;
Noresemen.
I’m sweeping snow.
In the morning sun.
I guessed it’d be easier
to sweep than cut in
at the heels and lift.
And turn.
And toss.
Then cut in again.
I sweep.
Some geese call out from the
hazy near-beyond.
Returnéd from
their night of snow.
From wherever they ever go.
And extend their webbed feet,
so made for water.
So smooth.
So broad.
So slick.
And find
...well...
they do find water.
A flash-frozen pond.
A crackening rather than a splashering.
I wonder if they’d notice.
I wonder when they know.
That snow means ice.
And if they entertain a
moment’s surprise.
At finding dry feet.
And stiff-plane pond.
I sweep the snow
The birds skate and wait.
For sun to lower them.
Into the wet.
By a few more feet.
Snowfall so heavy in 'eighty-two
reproduced a Christmas card view.
A biting wind swirled in one foot drifts
over hanging in bridges..makeshift.
The fields flooded into skating rinks
into which each footstep sinks,
cracking under body weight so
not the best place to skate.
Thawing February brings twitching noses
in tussocks of awakened primroses.
Rummaging on hazel boles,hibernating mammals
poke from the holes.
Leafless hedgerows where buds now form
a carpet of white corm,
Badgers forage for food near their sett
renewing their bracken scented couchette.
Sparrow and robin pair off in twos
as lengthening days come into view.
aconite open in rays of sun
below yellow catkins with tails fine spun.
Osier shoots in green corn camomile
as early Spring mornings begin to smile.
Hooray!
Wet grassy feet fill my soccer cleats.
Hot sweaty teens run fast track meets.
She skis down sugary mountain tops.
He begs his coach to play shortstop.
Footballs, field goals, fumbles.
Touchdowns, tackles, tumbles.
My mother keeps warm with hot brown drinks,
as I learn to skate on chilly rinks.
A sadly splintered hockey stick, from a two-quick hat trick.
A winning catch is cradled in a well-loved mitt.
Tiger wins with a hole in one.
Miniature golf is much more fun.
Double dribble the whistle blows.
Excitement on the court grows!
Busy balls dunked in their hoops.
"Hooray" the three cheers for the ALLEY -OOP!
That's too much information
Speak slower
Oh my, that was too loud
Be quiet
I don't like when you talk
Be still
Words...so many WORDS
...restraint
How does one find balance
Truth must be spoken
DISLIKE Declarations
Have left me broken
...silence
Pressure builds
Hope thins, like ice inviting a skate
Movement feels like plodding
Toward an armed gate
...stymied
Breathe of life, failed
I can not sense my heart
It may be beating, yet
I know not where to start
...lost
Trust feels odd, out of sync
No forward, no going back
Nervous system, reset
Discernment has gone black
...grace....whispers
You are loved
Written by Trudy Schrader on 02-18-2026
Star crossed champions of mirth
Wild hair and wild eyes, both
To the world they say with arms raised to the sky,
"What a pity, for we dearly love to laugh!"
Arm in arm, singing their favorite show tunes
But in the voices of Donald Duck and Calamity Jane
Gallivanting through the city, doing the Charleston in the street
These two have no interest or talent for growing up
And made the world lighter because of it
Willy Wonka in his purple jacket,
Holding the door for her with his cane,
Him with those dreamy eyes
Pale eyes that swim in her perpetual smile
A smile, a voice and a soul that lit up everything for miles
She sits, glowing in the window,
Like a princess in the white room, wearing her little barrette
But she isn't well at all
And so she left this world, Roseannadanna did, one morning
And the twinkle in his eye twinkled off into space
With her dimples, impromptu cartwheels and spinning skirts
Four years wasn't enough to fill up the laughing box
The glass elevator is lonely looking down on the world
Wait, wait, wait, BAM!
Would she want him sinking there in his spats?
A wop, bam, boo! No, choose instead to keep that wicked grin
Dance down the aisle of the plane, show that funny funny face
Embrace each Saturday Night gone by
To Gene and Gilda, geniuses of love and light hearts
Pop the cork on the champagne and roller skate through this life!
~For Heather Ober's Famous Couples/Duos Poetry
Contest