Long Splosh Poems
Long Splosh Poems. Below are the most popular long Splosh by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Splosh poems by poem length and keyword.
1. Form: Free Verse/Theme: Indulgence
Singing those praises in church,
I see a vision of a parched earth.
Geosmin scent ascends;
or descends. Transference
between reality and surreality.
My mind is soaked in soil microbes,
no shower sensation in sight.
Today it might rain; or not.
Sunday, I’ll be praising in church,
whether, or not, we get relief;
but there will be comforting
amidst the suffering; or not.
Can you tell, Georgia needs rain?
Our birds crave it. My lillies lay in wait
to relieve the scorch of Summer heat.
I am conditioned with air, but
I need to hear the rain
and smell the petrichor ‘plash.
For that I’ll accept the invitation
to sit on my screened-in deck,
hopefully hear the roar of thunder,
and the whooshing wind
through the plush leaves,
as the treasures of heaven,
fall like silver coins, to make mud.
2. Form: Rhyme/Theme: Indulgence
Sing chorus of reality;
A parched sur’ality.
From the dry earth, a scent ascends;
Geosmin scent descends.
In soil microbes, my mind awoke,
tempting shower, a soak.
Where rainfall’s sensation is bliss,
The serpent-earth’s amiss.
Today the rain might fall; or not -
Our suffering; or not.
In church, we will be still and praise -
Weather or not, we’ll praise.
I think you know, Georgia needs rain.
The birds crave its refrain.
Relieve the scorch of Summer heat.
My lillies wait for beat.
Air-conditioned, am I, but I
Am longing drench, not shy.
I wish to smell the petrichor -
A splash of rain, adore.
To hear the roar of thunder-speak;
The whooshing wind, this week.
Heaven’s treasures pour out and sud
And mix the silver’d mud.
I’ll sit on deck and marvel at
The rush of leaves, the splat;
Splish-splosh and churning soil to cure
Descend, ascend, endure.
You’ll find this disgusting, but Rudolph was busting
He peed in that fish pond of mine
But it wasn’t tragic, cos Rudolph is magic
And he piddles sparkling wine
The water went hazy, my goldfish went crazy
And splashing all over the place
It’s true, don’t be doubting, they dislodged my fountain
And sprayed Prosecco in my face
I swallowed a bit, not too much of it
My hand stopped too much going in
For wine that is fizzy can make me go dizzy
I’d much rather do that with gin
I think Santa heard, cos that’s not a bird
It’s Prancer that’s flying above
He’s tinkling from space, I got a quick taste
It’s gin and I think I’m in love
Then my wife appeared and I grew afeared
She had a mad look on her face
The goldfish are blotto, the yard’s like a grotto
With reindeer all over the place
But vixen’s my genie, she tinkled martini
So I grabbed a glass in some haste
Vermouth sprinkled in, right up to the brim
My wife won’t let that go to waste
So, now dancing twerky, she forgot the turkey
And I grabbed a casserole dish
I went in to get a whopping great net
Cos dinner will be...
a goldfish
As
rain
starts to fall
pitter-patter-pitter
beads of water combine
together creating puddles of
water. Children squealing, laughing
as they play and jump into them
splish, splash, splosh, happy fun
memories are newly
born.
As
droplets
of rain begins to
fall giving life to all,
grass is greener, plants grow,
oceans, streams, rivers fast flow.
animals, aquatics, people thrive
lifes basic requirement to all.
those precious drops of
water.
A
drink
of water
a cup of tea,
coffee with bit of cream.
A bath, a shower, washing hair,
cleaning clothes in a machine. Water
a valuable and precious source we
often take for granted
life drops of H20.
18.08.21
Sweet butterscotch dew dimples on the lips of daffodils
In flourishing fields fondled by four leaf clover
Each scant spikelet of small white blooms playfully pleasure
Rejoicing with fragrance within this meadow of elation
Full throated birdsongs from summer clad throngs
On painted wings twittering mimics to the joyful muse
Singing...I belong, I belong, I belong
Basking in the beams that blanket with golden warmth
Flittering, fluttering, tittering, shimmering butterfly wings
Catch the amicable air stream gliding to each flush of flowers
While the bustling boom of buzzing bees flaunt and flirt
With tiny tendrils and pistils laden with summer succulence
Marigold marshes pop aloud with a scented stinky snout
While the honeysuckle mingles and clings to save the day
Dragonfly wings scour the sky above the tadpole's glug and splosh
As caterpillars lazily race for the next bite on half-eaten leaves
The standing creek lies bogged with meditative stillness
As it ever recedes ritually to the shallows in the vaporous heat
Filching foamy froth for snapping turtles, water striders and snails
As it belches its murky gases from soggy bottom sludge
This serendipitous splendor of sensuous sparkling soulfulness
This symbiotic symphony of nature's stirring recital repeats
In the eyes that behold, the nose that savors, the ears that revel
The touch that embraces and the heart that remembers...
This Heaven on Earth - This Heartsong!
July 6, 2020
butter flies and marshes mellow Poetry Contest
sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Ho hum, the doldrums:
I twiddle my thumbs
and scratch my bum.
I bumble ‘round,
and when I’m done,
I murmur, mumble, humph and hum.
Ding-dong, the same old song:
I bang my drum
and clang my gong;
I even brought
my bell along.
Tinkle, ting, naw, that’s just wrong.
Tick tock, flip flop
My brain is oozing
gloopy glop.
That metered click:
where is my glock?
Bang! that clock and make it stop!
Pitter pat, what’s that you say?
Rin tin, rain on the roof today!
I’ll squish and splosh and dance and play
and splash those doldrums right away!
----------
for the Onomatopeia Poetry Contest
sponsored by Emile Pinet
written on 07/02/2022
Slick with the drops of a wet world,
I invite this electric charge.
Hair drenched as the commoner, the wild free,
Splosh and bend and hide your glee,
City-splashed and heaven-bound.
This town, bounded by the ropes of buckets divine,
What cafe, what latte, can offer memory of sunshine?
Laughter is easier when soaked!
Oh, silly electro-activity,
Won't you pour more for me?
I'll ride in the whale's belly,
Veer the Arc from the iceberg,
Just give me silvery sheets and a lamp post!
So to sing, "blessed be the current
I need and have and am!"
And let me not slip
In mind nor foot
Else I'm off to the Keys.
Form:
Mr McCheesy has large feet
wears size 40 shoes, no simple feat
plip! plop! thud! phud!
was all you could hear
miles before he would appear
Many would hide to hold themselves safe
not wanting his cheesy feet near their face
many scorned, poked fun, gave retreat
all ran and hide, but never to seek
Mr McCheesy felt alone in despair
for he truly felt no one did care
mock him, tease him, laugh did they
each time he passed anytime of the day
One darkened morning
a fierce storm came calling
torrential rain lashed heavily down
ground gurgling, mud pouring
all ran, found cover, all prayed
When all was calm was plain to see
the devastation they did not forsee
disbelief, shock an all forlorn
wheat and corn was all gone
sodden wet mud laid bare openly
mangled limbs from drowned trees
Roads now broken, buried in ground
how was they going to travel around?
stuck, cut off from outside life
they knew to be in heavy strife
In distance a familiar sound echoed flew
splish splosh splush vibrated through
Mr McCheesy the man with large feet
pounding down the ground skillfully neat
Creating a road solid and sound
for everyone to convey around
feet echoing sounds they once did fear
now welcomed with loud roaring cheers
Lone warrior working his large feet
In rhythms of phuds and splats
Mr McCheesy on hearing their claps
spurred on reclaim land to reap
Added cheers erupted, boomed loud and clear
"you've made the horror disappear
Mr McCheesy you've saved the day
hip! hip! hooray! hooray!"
From that day forward none laughed at him again
ashamed and guilty of their bullying and pain
for he was their hero he saved the day
a statue was erected in his grand name
We are all unique with qualities of difference
some dont see, only show of their ignorance
god gave to us for reasons unknown
were all different it is often shown
but the devil he teases and tempts with his sin
turns us into imbeciles and cruelty sets in
If ever your teased to having cheesy feet
remember the tale wrote above
cheesy feet who saved that day
gave so much and forever his love
26.08.20
SURVEYOR OF THE STORM
Today’s early afternoon is somber-gray.
Red, white, blue, cherry willow, stars.
A single lightning bolt, in downward zigzag,
striking, alongside the bark of a crépe myrtle.*
Loose leaves sliding down oil-slicked street.
Goodnight skies rise into the light.
Verve-quake of thunder. I saw clouds rise and fall,
flutter by. Chimes and metallic owls, mirrors and bells
keep those pesky ‘peckers at bay, but will they survive
if the wind takes them away? (They did)
Yesterday’s moonlight
will be drenched behind midnight-clouds.
Spectacular sun-days orchestrate Spring hues
as wings splish-splosh in flooding bath tubs.
Well, I imagine so…
as faith remains.
3/25/2021
Non-rhyming couplets
*striking used as adj. here
Like a welcome Summer rain, humor may suddenly
cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.
—Langston Hughes
RAINING IN SUMMER
The little teapot leaned over, steam pours out,
sizzles on the pavement. Trickles, sprinkles,
waters the subsidiary gardens that sprout -
those pointed out by a grandson. My wrinkles
curve up as the rain skillfully waters my willow,
my patch of roses and lilies, scattered and rare.
With Summer storm, I ruminate on a long time ago.
This grand-generation of blessing, not yet a prayer.
Drip…drop…splosh! The hope of the window pane.
We dream, as the outburst streams down to spill
our dreams, like seeds giving more than the mundane.
God saturates our lives with more than we will.
It’s raining Summer all over this land of honey-wheat.
Though droll and gray, a grateful soak gifts a sun rise.
My flower petals, leaves and boughs bathed in heat
and nourishing drink, replenishing the owls, and other wise.
Ker-splash, the puddles of inky-mud, stain the shins,
leave me, us, them, refreshed and sodden with grins.
A good number of us decided to go on holiday down to the sea,
Well, it was such a fun crazy time and it ended far too quickly,
Every night a couples’ name was pulled out of the hat,
It was our turn to cook on the coming Saturday, fancy that,
We had to put on a good spread and decided to cook Greek,
Out we went on the morn ticked off each item, had to perform peak,
No-one was allowed in the kitchen when we were cooking,
The aroma wafted under the door, they were eager to come looking,
But we locked the door, and two hours later we rang the dinner bell,
The clan came quickly, it smelt divine, followed their nose and tasty smell,
Everyone was hungry So ample portions we served, it tasted so good,
We were complimented, Jane asked for a second serving of food,
So proud we were, one and all, enjoying our Cabernet and chatty dine,
But then something embarrassing happened, which wasn’t so fine,
A heaped spoon my friend placed in her mouth, we heard spluttering,
a cough and, oh my gosh,
Her empty spoon fell into the food with a thundering splattering splosh,
Jane quizzically picked this thing up, it had a tail, not a mouse, but a black plug,
With a bright shiny chain which took forever to reveal itself,
I wanted to crawl under the table but all I could do was blush, was it myself
or hubby, when washing the veg in the sink, accidentally picked it up potatoes
At first silence, then her hubby laughed, watch out for the salad and tomatoes
It has become a household joke between us and many a friend,
We were jovially asked what was the next Greek dish that we recommend!