Long Softener Poems

Long Softener Poems. Below are the most popular long Softener by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Softener poems by poem length and keyword.


Welcome To My Home

Welcome To My Home

I've been blinded by your sentiment,
and awoken by your sweet cologne,
like our sweet morning regiment,
we don't live in a house, but a home.

I see my pugs silly smushy face,
as soon as I open my exhausted eyes,
all night he sleeps in the same place,
on my feet, but I'm not surprised.

I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth,
I open the door and there he is,
my sweet golden retriever beast,
So darn sweet, how can I resist?

“Time to get up Ella and get dressed!”,
It's Monday, you know how that goes,
As I see her smile I know I am blessed,
Love her from her head to her tiny toes.

Pancakes and orange juice for breakfast,
packing a lunch for my sweet Ella Rose,
These special moments can't be purchased,
Oh, how her beautiful brown hair flows.

Back from school and it's Laura time,
I kick back, relax, and do a little writing,
I'm lucky to have a chance to unwind,
My over sized lounge chair, typewriting.

Laundry piled up I suppose I throw in a load,
mmmmmmm..my favorite fabric softener,
Hot water is off my washer is cold,
But I think it makes the clothes softer.

Eat lunch? Or my favorite apple strudel?
I'll go with the unhealthy snack instead,
Plus I just looked and I'm all out of noodles,
and I have no more of my raspberry vinaigrette.

Uh oh, I forgot to feed the turtle and bunny,
my precious white fluffy piece of heaven,
His name is Lucky and he is very funny,
Pebbles the turtle just turned seven.

I set my phone alarm to go off at four o'clock,
I still can't decide what's my favorite ring tone,
I go to the bus stop right around the block,
It's cold, I would've brought a coat if I had known.

“Hi sweetheart, how was your day at work?
He's finally home, I've missed him so much.
Next it's time to sit down and do homework,
Dinner's ready, we are all starving, I figured as such.

Look inside our windows you will see it yourself,
With our little family of seven we're never alone,
We may not have a lot of monetary wealth,
But we've learned to turn a house into a home.

Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written: January 29, 2016
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member The Transfer Station

He ignored the warning signs and moved carefully forward and backward

In the rocking chair of swept memories and went for a wild white knuckle ride 

Swayed but not faltering although he swung like a junky on amphetamine pills

Soaked in recollections gathered momentum and made dents in the floor boards 


He pictured himself as a young man courting his sweetheart and kissed the bride

Life had dealt him difficult cards but he had upped his game in the view of defeat

Made allowances for bad hands and survived depression divorce and uncertainty

Valued his shortcomings and turned obstacles and flaws into forces of challenge


Photographs trinkets newspaper clippings and baby shoes swished past in a flash

A rollercoaster adventure of vertigo and nausea but also of thrilling escapes

Parachuting down abysses cliff diving and bungee jumps into a red-hot volcano

Confined to a nursing home he refused to accept the dumping ground it seemed


His conscience was clear but that signalled that truths were merely impermanent

And the subconscious tends to rest below an iceberg of prominent falsifications

Like laundering imperfection with fabric softener on kind collages and tapestry

Photo-shopping was before his time but he knew to cut and paste with his mind


Racing thoughts and blustering emotions collected on the windscreen of his soul

First pay packet for an old Enfield motorcycle then traded for an Austin Minor

Redundancy after the miner’s strike and still both his children made it to College

Some say it’s been a junk yard but he fathoms recycling for future generations



26th October 2019

You have been missed

You have been missed- Elena Mihalachi 

It's been a while since you've been here.

By a desired whisper on a sea floor, pencils are being used to color living cells 
unsure of which story to search for you in. 
Without the Poseidons' call, 
my blood waves had been broken by the Trident' last wish.
early sunsets with the softener of corals in a war treasure 
I have lost a lot: 
a leg, 
a hand, 
a kidney, 
my head; 
Until my heart was filled with longing, 
from the wooden lungs, 
every tale has a fairy or ghosted tail. 
The love I was sharing was the most profound, 
my silk window was made using the most recent fabric 
kept in my tears with decades above the naphthalene hunger touches my childhood without sharpening any of my innocence. 
Empty glasses were left behind in the area everyone was attempting to reach- 
The Horizon, 
Thirsty for the beloved naivety 
you left rearranged on the pulsing shelves. 
When you are infatuated with each other, 
in the core of the earth, twisting roots can shape thoughts, 
throughout any sacrificial actions to turn into a blessing of despair. 
The church bell's echo reveals everyone's Skeletons thrown into a hidden closet 
might be happening at night, when everyone's leaving their wings 
but there is nothing behind the door where the sunlight seals it with dozens of seahorses. 
Wrap me up in the morning, please. 
when lips move in a step dance 
Life begins with 100 years 
of breathing per minute
under water.


Thank you <3

Rabid Believers

The track marks are exposed, so you’ll have to look twice without getting caught. Your mind starts to wonder what it is he’s been shot full of, Cocaine?  Gasoline and formaldehyde?  Fabric softener or blue ne high. You’ll have to swallow hard because your throat’s gone dry from the bone dust. Reality is a broken jar of afterbirth, no longer able to contain the past remnants of truth, and shame… leaking all over the shag carpet. Spilling behind the couch into the cracks in the walls. Everyone can see the cigarette burns in the drapes. The neighbors are complaining about the sound of braking glass. Your smile’s gone cold and grey. The lines in your face run deep as wood grain and as smooth as a razor canoe on a river of flesh. You’ve taken shelter in the dry hardened shell of yesterday’s corpse. The sound track to your dreams are of rusty things that scream and clang, and “never mind” is the only thing that follows when you speak your mind in bits and pieces.  Father, bless this child of sin. Consume her eyes and salvage her skin. Drape it across her mother’s face to bind and hold the tears in.  The sweet nectar of heaven drips down from the trees onto your brow, anointed, salvation….religious disease.  I don’t deny these things in my life that I can’t quite grasp, cold winds, locust song, and haunting gasps. Invoke your true self in the blood without fear. My smile’s a scalpel across your eyes. There’s no denying these things that dwell within your bones.
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Son

Across the miles
A man moves in space
To reunite with his link…
To the future.

The child struggles against the specter of sleep.
He feels the excitement of being reunited, almost succumbing to the dark cloak of slumber…
He makes it, tho.

The father, with a curious combination scent of sweat, Lagerfeld, smoke and fabric softener
Enters the room.

The child, eyelids heavier than lead,
Rushes forward.
He grabs his DNA link
At the knees…hugging hard…hugging long.

“I love you Dad”, his tiny voice said.
“I stayed up late just to see you!”
The father grabbed him by the armpits,
And pressed the child’s face against his wiry beard.

And a kiss sealed the transaction.
A pure and essential show of love…
A love that transcends all love…
The love between this father and son…

And the child slept the sleep of peace.

© Richard A. Martin, Jr. MD CPC, 1996


Premium Member The Cure For Covid 19

There is a cure for covid 19 fact checked by elf on a shelf.
It’s safe in moderation and can be taken at home by yourself.

There is no needle required, but this cure requires a glass.
This potion has three parts, the amount depends on your mass.

It’s been used by some famous actors and the political elite as well.
Just how long it will last, well it’s just too early to tell.

Trump is a veteran user he likes how it gives him a boost.
Pelosi has taken it longer, but she’s no longer able to roost.

You don’t need a gene altering shot, away from home you might need a dime.
This story is absolute crap, but at least it comes as a rhyme.

For one part you’ll need a prescription, as to not get cuffed by an officer.
Try it and you will be amazed, it’s just vodka, Xanax and stool softener.
Form: Couplet

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