Long Sleepy Poems
Long Sleepy Poems. Below are the most popular long Sleepy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sleepy poems by poem length and keyword.
By this old pond
Morning glory;
Dragonfly parade
~~~~~~~~~
Lotus flowers
Sun tan moments;
Somnolent hours
~~~~~~~~~
Fat frog sits
Atop lotus leaf;
Morning meditation
~~~~~~~~~
Here in this park
Squirrels dash;
Curious activity
~~~~~~~~~
Here for a stroll
Watch butterflies flirt;
Happy flowers smile
~~~~~~~~~
Bougainvillea shrubs
Flowering in the heat;
Tropical display
~~~~~~~~~
Busy feet trampling
Bitumen track;
Jogging around
~~~~~~~~~
Windy cascades
Through bamboo pines;
Sifting and singing
~~~~~~~~~
Sleepy moods loiter
Birds murmuring;
Stray monkeys cluster
~~~~~~~~~
Dragonfly song
Unheard melody;
Drowsy September
~~~~~~~~~
Another hazy day
Wind-blown smog;
Smell of ashes
~~~~~~~~~
Wooden bridge
Clear waters below;
Sleepy fish resting
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
16 September 2015
Singapore
All dreams of moving ahead
Was lying near me in my bed
Trying to start once again
Hoping this time I'll begin
To feel something more
Than my heart shutting a door
On anyone who tries to enter
There was no one who could mentor
My heart back to normal rhythm
Everybody was a victim
I never gave a second chance
For my heart to finally dance
With a song of love and kindness
Each time that I tried to find this
It would never last at all
Leaving me to always fall
Now Looking at your sleepy face
I know this is the right place
For my heart to start anew
With a brand new lover who
Will always be here by me
Bringing my life endless glee
Let us go for a jaunt on Longport jetty
Our thin peninsula of jagged moss rocks
Waves crash against the smooth raw surface
Blue against the slippery black
Between the cracks is danger upon each step
Will you take my hand and lift our spirits
Over the Jersey shore Sunday tranquil calm
Feelings settle there at the end of time
A sleepy sun sets, yawning down seconds
There is more love found in the simpler pleasures
Salty pungent smells well up in memory
Spread joy over the jetty evening dusk
As seagulls swoop down for a crust of bread
Bent wings skilled at catching
Beaks refuse to lose one single morsel to the sea
Hold on or the winds will carry you away
I see miles and miles of lavender...
Fields of lavender
The fragrance stimulates my entire being..
Colors in the atmosphere so intense..
So vivid..
So vibrant..
Never have seen so many magnificent colors..
There are colors of which..
I have never know existed
Rejuvenation I feel..
Reborn I feel..
Revived I feel..
The previous I..
Isn't I..
Previous in a crisis..
In crisis mode..
Living life on survival mode..
In a life threatening emergency..
Waiting for crisis..
Expecting crisis..
To explode with the grandest fury..
Fury followed by suffering..
Succumb to suffering it was
Moments of serenity non existent..
Cherished loved ones..
Special friends pour their sadness
tears of pain it is..
Teardrops multiply..
Thus then the tears become an ocean..
Simultaneously all this occurs..
I remembered all fields..
Of lavender..
The intoxication of the lavender fragrance..
The stimulation upon my entire being..
The transformation as such..
Cherised loved ones..
Dearest friends..
Please do not despair..
I am alive..
All while in my sleepy slumber..
In comatose land..
Redemption
I was young, when I remember my mother
clasping me with a dinosaur of a hug;
the type that would last all day!
Then she caught a bus to go shopping;
I waited ..put the day on hold.. waited.
And painfully, I am still waiting,
for she never returned – ever!
From then on, my father was home much more
but he was always vague about life,
where he was and where he was going.
I learned later…. much later,
that my father was an actual criminal on the run!
(At that time I wasn’t sure what criminal meant…..
but I do now!)
My mother was gone, so my father was home!
But there was always a fog, a blurring around him.
You would ask a question and words like
sort of, maybe, I’m not sure, would vaguely flutter by.
He was a question mark with legs.
However he was loving and caring towards me
until the police arrived several times, and Dad said,
“Time for us to be gone…..to move on!”
I then learnt that my father was both a criminal
and Mother of the Year!
Eventually I was softly told I was being fostered
(another word I didn’t know and grew to dislike).
I was put with a family but was never comfortable,
especially around my foster father with his pretend smile
and his very violent leather belt.
Each day my clothes became heavier;
I learnt to keep my eyes down, just disappear!
At night, I would lie in bed chasing sleepy sheep
until nightmares would crack open my eyelids.
Eventually, to my delight, my real dad reappeared
and we were on the road again.
Rucksack on my back and motel to motel,
drifting like steam, not much schooling
…..only in crime.
He taught me to steal and told me stories
about working dog tracks and local markets.
Then his thoughts would drift off
seeking answers in the shadows.
However, one day the police took him away
and this time he never returned.
I was put with foster parents who actually cared
until one day it was gently explained to me
that my father had died in prison.
I suppose my father was an unsolvable jigsaw,
always with a missing piece.
To this day I still wonder if my father’s love
was redemption for who he was and what he had done.
Father to son…
“I am a good man, as I am a loving father!”
Ian Souter
Someone help me please,
I feel so lost,
The snow is deep,
The streets are dark,
Unfriendly people
Come at a cost,
I left my red scarf
As a mark,
It’s gone,
But so sleepy, thought,
I’d have a nap,
Last I remember,
Is my yawn!
Has been a busy night,
Santa and Rudolph
Will miss me,
To make sure,
Will tie my
Shoe around this snow
Adorned acorn tree!
Only a short snooze,
For I fear and dread,
To be left behind,
What would lay
For me ahead?
A villager passing from
A nearby farm,
Heard my sleepy voice
And from beneath
A pile of snow
Saw my blue sleeved arm,
And one tiny
Shoeless foot,
Half frozen,
The man knew
He had no choice,
But to awaken me,
For I’d surely freeze,
If left there,
In this bitter breeze!
A hot glass of milk,
A buttered bun,
Sounded to me,
To be a lot more fun!
I’m lost, sadly sang the elf,
Santa and Rudolph
And the gang,
Must have taken off,
I fear to see a
Wolf with fang,
What should I do,
Will you help me?
Address North Pole
Is all I know!
Villager and elf walked on
Hand in hand,
Leaving footsteps in the
Fluffy snow like sand,
The stranger seemed
So kind,
Was this villager
Assigned?
Of course he was,
And with a spin
And whirl we found
Distraught Santa,
Inside his house
Beside his spouse,
Address, North Pole!
A miracle Santa declared,
And looked around
But there was no one there!
I was shaken from my bed, two A.M. the clock read. Was I dreaming, no here it goes again should I be screaming. Wake up wake up, I said to my husband closeup. I got a sleepy grunt, go back to sleep it was a dreamy stunt. It was no dream, it was a quiver all over me like hot steam. The next day the news had about my shake, two A.M. we had an earthquake.
Date Written: 9/27/2021
Quiver
Note: True Story.~~~~RhymeZone
''Q'' Contest, NEW ONLY Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Damn This Road
How long have I been driving?
My watch tells me that it has only been hours since I left
It feels like days…maybe weeks since the last time I saw another car
An endless strand of aging asphalt leading from one place to another
Pulling me down the dark road to a place the Fates have chosen for me
Only distant tribal music on a nowhere AM radio station keeps me company
The DJ’s sleepy voice drones on in an unending monologue
How many miles of this do I Have to tolerate?
Islands of amber lights reflect off low slung clouds marking the distances
Like an oasis signs talks of food, drink and sleep tempt all weary travelers
In names of towns with exotic names tell me where I am
The sun rises on a new day with me with a hundred miles to go
It is still a hundred miles but there is hope
Hope that this road will end and I will once again be with people
My mind races with just one thought as I see my exit…damn this road!
Recollections flutter
Behind my eyes
Like autumn leaves
Scattered by the wind.
Dreams send out tentacles
Into time long past
Calling memories up from
Obscurity into light.
A phantom path leads back
Into the dusty library
Of forgotten treasures
Where there’s an Easter party
With a magician
Who pulls out coins from
Our hair and ears.
Another page reveals
A sudden rainstorm and
Laughter of two lovers
Picnicking on the slope
Of green grass under a bridge.
I see a sleepy newborn
At his mother’s breast
And, later, taking
Those wobbly first steps.
There’s our fiftieth anniversary
With all the children
And grandchildren gathered,
And Great Grandma’s
Ninetieth birthday party
With relatives from everywhere.
I see happy days at golden beaches,
Trips to exotic, faraway places,
And so much more.
No pages are left that tell
Of the sad or unhappy.
Time has erased those or left
The leaves dimmed and faded.
At the shorter end of life
It’s the joyous memories
I hold dear, as I reach back
Into the hidden recesses,
And open the pages of my mind.
The sandy beach, castles in the sand, high and low tides. Sea gules and seal-sightings as we dinned on top of the cliff.
Non threating sounds of strong winds and those sleepy fog horns. Pathway to the sea by way of The Golden Gate Park. What's not to like?
I have never been in or on any of the 5 oceans; or is it 7? In my limited search, I kept seeing difference numbers.
They spoke of 7 seas and conflicting numbers of oceans. There were certain periods of history that effected the count.
It's easy to understand the complexities involving so much water. Anyway, the closest I have been to oceans and seas was a view of the
Atlantic from a distance during a very brief trip to New York. Secondly, Our family lived within five blocks from the Pacific Ocean in San Francisco.
Countless were the joyful times with our kids at the Pacific that greeted us one day with a mighty splash while high upon the rocks
and in our Sunday best. We were happily wet. Thirdly,
we took a San Francisco Bay Cruise to The Golden
Gate Bridge, never venturing the Pacific.
Oceans separate great continents from each other.
Never worlds apart, our ocean experiences were joyful times, helping to hold us together.
092221PSCtest, "O" Contest, New Poems. Constance La France. 4P