Long Sleepovers Poems
Long Sleepovers Poems. Below are the most popular long Sleepovers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sleepovers poems by poem length and keyword.
I reminisce, I miss:
those days of yesteryear,
when life seemed so simple;
when as children we would
play outside from morn til dusk
riding bikes, hide and seek
playing softball in the street,
running, chasing, catching, laughing,
full of life.
I reminisce, I miss:
hanging out with friends,
sharing secrets, sharing dreams,
sleepovers where little sleep was had;
when the future was bright,
and the sky was the limit,
when life stretched on forever -
we were invincible!
But now time grows shorter,
and youth has lost its blush,
as the years turn golden.
So I remember the days of yesteryear
with fondness and longing.
But I embrace the gift of today.
I reminisce, I miss.
3/25/21
For James Edward Lee's I Reminisce, I Miss Contest
In the tapestry of life, needles and threads of gold,
With each sewing motion, a dream takes hold.
Brave and bold,
Each stitch is controlled.
The dawn brings a sweet dew,
As the mist plays peekaboo.
A new day to weave our dreams,
Sipping tea at the café with the Queen.
Delicacies of macaroons and perfect bites,
Beckoning you under the soft, bright lights.
An array of desserts, a sweet tooth’s delight,
So many choices to entice.
The stitch of kindness takes hold,
Building a world of wonder, I am told.
Old worn hands and fingers,
Weaving a bonnet, the touch lingers,
Caressing the stitches as they unfold,
Creating beauty in threads of gold.
Hands intertwined as we say grace,
The tapestry of life is as fragile as lace.
From the day of our birth,
Our breath takes hold on this earth.
For every heartbeat, a dream takes hold,
Whimsical baby steps, one stitch at a time,
Create a magical world of lullabies and rhymes.
Where unicorns and mermaids lull little princesses to sleep,
Little boys chasing each other up the street,
Hero capes used as bed covers,
For sleepy children at sleepovers.
Legos scattered everywhere,
As we tiptoe up the stairs.
A stitch of promise as we take the leap.
Into a deep sleep.
To a world of magic, where fairies and elves
Are stitched in the fabrics of ourselves.
Family
Is all I ever wanted, really
When I grew up, a mom I was gonna be
A good one, not like my mom was to me
For years, I dreamt of bonding by talking
Heart-to-hearts, from when they'd be walking
My son climbing in my bed when he had a nightmare
Cliche , dragging along his ragged old teddy bear
My daughter , letting me brush her hair into a braid
Times that taught her not to be afraid
Bedtime stories under the covers with a flashlight
Watching them dream, peacefully sleeping through the night
Building forts with him, playing Barbie dolls with her
Oh I wish that's how those early years were
Telling me about Junior High, excited about her first date
Giggling about boys during sleepovers that stayed up late
Rocks through windows, a frog in his pocket
Off he'd go, fast as a rocket
Little league practice, maybe a broken arm
I could handle it all because of his boyish charm
Mending her broken heart
While fixing up his broken car
High school worries. I would talk them through
Maybe even college letters for these two
It would be the perfect little life
Because I would have been a perfect little wife
I would have wanted a life no other
Because I was gonna be the perfect mother
2 November 2019 7:32 AM
Swallowing snot and hawking luggies
Weekend sleepovers and late night movies
Riding bikes and popping wheelies
Telling jokes and acting silly
Throwing knives and taking dares
Living life without a care
Just two boys wild and clever
Running the mountain having the best day ever
Who knew their lives would change so fast
In the valley that day childhood would pass
We both changed that day and our lives grew apart
All because of something that we did not start
We were still friends because we cared
but the brotherhood we had we no longer shared
We had our travels some together but most apart
And now many years later and miles away I still live those days in my heart
The good times and bad, the fights and laughter
The years of life roll faster and faster
Our freindship lives on though tattered and torn
Since the fifth grade when it was born
You were my first best friend my only best friend
And you always will be until the end
When I was but a child, I sure was not
too popular or all that great in school.
I tried to make good friends; I tried a lot
with all the girls considered to be cool.
I wished to be with them but played the fool.
They’d talk to me alone but would not stoop
to letting me hang out in their tight group.
It made me feel forlorn to know that I
was always being left out of the loop.
But soon would come my time, and I would fly!
As if emerging from a dark cocoon,
I did not know what I would come to be.
My time was coming though, and it came soon!
In junior high, the teachers noticed me.
My confidence grew fantastically.
My former way of seeking friends I saw
had never worked because of one big flaw:
I wasted time with girls who just were not
a fit for me! My soul was filled with awe
to know that girls like ME were whom I sought!
I felt so happy as I looked around
with new perspective, for it meant I could
feel free when other girls like me I found!
I grew in mind and body. It felt good
to have new friends and form a sisterhood.
In junior high, my wit was at its peak.
I lived for sleepovers and was not meek.
I talked to boys, and not since I’d been born
was I so happy. Life is sometimes bleak,
but since that time, I’ve never felt forlorn!
Feb. 10, 2018 for 'The Magic Of Three' Poetry Contest of Broken Wings
THE SHADOWS LEFT BEHIND.
Time is like a cloud that passes quickly overhead
but if we’re lucky we will find…
after she has passed…
the shadows she’s left behind…
And in these shadows that remain
that have not continued flying on the breeze…
is where our memories rest…
In moments such as these:
Moments when two grandchildren were young…
When their life was more innocent…and free…
When they played in our backward
Where they spent time up in our tree…
When they thought that I was magical…
When out of their ears I would pull money…
When they would laugh at all my jokes…
When they thought that I was funny.
Picnics, movies, sleepovers,
dinners where joy and laughter flowed with ease…
Life is made more beautiful
by moments such as these.
And as time’s passed over our grandchildren
how wonderful it is to find…
still floating in our memories…
the shadows she left behind.
"It's a fake tree", I said the year
my mother lost her mind and decided that real trees were too much trouble!
My best friend, who lived next door
thought it was just great,....that giant, silver monstrosity!
That is..until I told her to close her eyes, and sniff.
"That's the ugliest tree I ever smelled!" she said, ...finally agreeing with me.
Her support helped to convince my mother of her error in judgment,
and that was the last tinsel tree we ever had.
That was the same year
that we noticed that Santa Claus looked a lot
like our neighbor, Mr. Hendrickson.
We had called him "Mr. Hiccupson"
until we would go into fits of giggles
watching how his belly jiggled.
Spending all those Christmas's apart
after her family moved away, was painful
Never again would we have special sleepovers,
and times like singing around that fake tree,
and listening for Mr. Hendrickson's reindeer to land on the roof.
We had written letters for awhile, but after a few years
we drifted apart....her living on one coast, me on the other.
But I had never forgotten that last Christmas....and the silver tinsel tree.
Out of the blue...a phone call,...a voice that time hadn't forgotten.
Suddenly, we were laughing and giggling like two little girls once again.
Sometimes, when you least expect it,
Christmas shows up early,....like a long lost friend
and wraps you up in it's arms.
Thank you Santa Claus.....or Mr. Hiccupson, ......wherever you are!.....
"That's my name, don't wear it out!" She sings
I can almost hear her voice echo
as I put on her earrings
Lily of the valley
carved next to your name
The tattoo on my back
is an image quite the same
Curled up next to you
on the arm of your favorite chair
I ask you to read me a story over again
It's the fourth time, but you don't care
Sleepovers at your apartment
fried chicken and Chinese checkers
I remember how hard you laughed
when I put in your dentures
I remember the car ride there
Sunshine peeking through your hair
You said it was the best you felt in a while
That made my mom smile
Suddenly across the room
Your face flushed
To your side, everyone rushed
You reached up
Hands near your neck
Everyone in the room a nervous wreck
I run outside
I'm told you'll be fine
I go back in through the back door
They have you laid out on the floor
Circle of people surround you
my mom on the phone
The ambulance comes and gets you
Mom and Dad take me home
I remember you on the gurney
You had a blanket that was white
Dad said "don't you worry
Grandma will fight"
Small hospital room
The family all near
The kind nurse tells me to talk to you
she says you can still hear
I went home that evening
and I guess so did you
but not to your same apartment
You had a new home with a view
In the front of the room
My aunt told me not to be scared
I finally get to see you
I run my fingers through your hair
Six angel statues line your casket
each a piece to remember you
I slip a note in your drawer
Hoping you'll read it an remember me, too
I feel guilty I don't visit your grave very often
But I know you aren't really in that coffin
You're saying this is the best you've felt in a while
And that makes me smile
Recalling Laughing Reading Learning Teaching myself
the flicker of into night with all of the to cook and how to wear
fireflies my sisters Nancy Drew books loving to eat makeup
Rainbows over Pizza Troll dolls Ping pong in Boyfriends and
Iowan Saturdays Hoppity-Hop study hall and drive-in movie
corn fields Popcorn Sundays and my bike Swing Choir kisses
Lying in grass Grandma's house The movie house Sleepovers' Dancing to
seeing at the end of with its starred chit chat live music at
shapes in clouds the lane ceiling and girlie games twilight
Hot days Lilac bushes Gaily Herman's Hermits Writing
cooling off and the big spinning on Bread and short stories -
at Weed Park Pool ballfield carnival rides 3-Dog Night dreaming awake
Snowy winters The tangled woods Endlessly Clothes bought with All the
raspberry behind our swinging babysitting wonderful things
summers first house up to the sky money of my youth
Oct. 17, 2018 for the Charlieku 4-3-2 Poetry Contest of charles messina
Words like choir, etc. checked by HowManySyllables.com
I'm not a girl,
I never played with barbie dolls,
went head over heels for boys.
I never went to houses for sleepovers,
started rumors, gossiped.
No, none of that.
I never bullied people,
got into fights,
cared about my hair.
I'm not a girl at all.
I'm not a boy,
even though I play in mud,
wrestle with my friends.
I never played Fortnite for fun,
say idiotic things to the girls,
cuss at my teachers.
No, none of that.
I never wore the same clothes twice,
cared about what cologne I used,
played with bugs.
I'm not a boy at all.
I'm non-Bianary,
I play in mud,
watch anime,
low blow my friends,
dated girls,
wrote in a diary.
Yes, I have done all of this.
I wear lip gloss,
never lipstick,
didn't care about pimples.
I'm my own kind.
They/Them.