Long Stealer Poems
Long Stealer Poems. Below are the most popular long Stealer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stealer poems by poem length and keyword.
Just as any durable and competent shortstop,
you cleanly field practically anything coming on the hop.
Your athletic ability shows when you throw to first base.
Among the best major leaguers, you have taken your place.
You hit equally well from both sides of the plate.
Your surge of power in recent years has been great.
On the base paths, you have been a constant threat.
As a base stealer, you are among the best ones yet.
Proven to be a player of the best kind,
to the Phillies, you have been quite a find.
May you continue to play baseball for many more years.
Among the home crowd, you will hear many cheers.
The yarrow is a show stealer,
a charming wildflower and garden plant
that blooms perennially
around June to August.
Beautifying nurseries, greenhouses and waysides;
it comes in many hybrid of colors;
white,
red,
pale-pink,
and especially yellow.
Captivatingly striking in yellow;
it's golden parasol glows like the sun.
A flower of remarkable versatility!
It can be used for seasonal decorations
and has large flowerheads
that are also used
to flavor a variety of culinary dishes
It can be cut, dried
and arranged in a vase
without losing it's gorgeous color.
It is a sun's best friend!
Flower Or Flowers In Imagism Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Date written: 03/11/2021
Wondrous frangipani...
You mesmerize me so.
Like a fan, I twirl you
Between my fingertips;
Striking yellow-white hue!
Wondrous frangipani...
You're the most eye-catching
Of all the spring flowers;
A captivating sight
After April showers.
Wondrous frangipani...
Beautiful as a tree;
Lovely in women's hair.
Stirred by a gentle breeze,
Your scent wafts in the air.
Wondrous frangipani...
Catnip to bumblebees;
Hordes of butterflies, too.
Show-stealer in gardens;
Gift to a day brand new!
All April In Monchielle Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich
Theme: April Flowers
Date written: 04/19/2022
Regardless of which field of endeavor you happen to be in, never say never, and never say, "It's over'' until it's over. I was in my garage during chores better known as this, that, and the other, but I don't remember what.
Two outs, bottom of the 9th, and the home team was down one run. Being announced by one of the greatest announcers in Major League Baseball, it was the first game of the 1988 World Series between two California rivals, one representing Northern and the other Southern California.
That 9th inning, especially the last at-bat, was being played as if it was a game to end all games and certainly among the greatest that I ever witnessed, but I don't remember why I was listening to the game over
the radio and not watching it on TV.
Anyway, the visiting team, most-favored to win the series, was ahead 4 to 3 with the best closer in ML Baseball. However, He was matched against one of the game's greatest clutch-hitters. Moreover, the home team had a great base stealer on first base which was critical to the game because the great clutcher, not in the lineup and not expecting to play, could barely walk, much less run, which meant that he had to hit a long ball for a single or hit a home run.
With the clutcher at-bat, the base runner stole second base which was a great boost, and it also meant that a long single would tie the game and take it into extra innings, or a home run would win the game for the home team which is what happened. 8 pitches were thrown at this at-bat: two strikes, three balls, three fowl balls; 2-run homer, and the home team won 5 to 4. I tell you, it was one amazing one-third inning.
040620PoSpCtest, Strand Pick 6, Brain Strand
One cold, stormy and dreary night
While I was long lost in my musing,
There came a knocking, faint and light
Yet startled me from my dozing.
In the grim glow of a solitary candle
I got out of my old chair acreaking
And to the front door I did waddle,
Through the eyeglass began peeking.
Except for the road with such bleak a plight,
As was snow dust drifting and swirling,
There was but not a soul in sight
So much so, my heart began racing.
Frozen to the ground I stood still,
Deep into the darkness I kept peering,
In the grip of fear and weak of will,
Who might be? I kept wondering.
With a rush of uncommon valor and insight,
I nudged ajar my dwelling door
to explore this mystery of my fright --
Lo, merely darkness there and nothing more!
With a smile and back in my chair;
Once again I heard now a loud tapping,
To confront the intruder, clear and fair
And unravel this behavior beguiling,
I marched emboldened to the door
And opened it wide now unfearing,
Hoping only darkness there and no more
And forever stop this irksome rapping.
With cold sweat welling on my brow,
Perched upon my front porch railing,
Emerged from darkness a carrion crow
Where it appears to have taken to roosting!
A stealer of soul, messenger of death,
With its beady black eyes kept at me looking,
Brooding over to let me live a few more breath
With a sly smile on its beak amocking.
With a choking dismay I crumpled to the floor,
Drenched in cold sweat, shivering, fluttering;
When I raised my head the crow was no more --
A close encounter or was I just dreaming?
~For Kelly Deschler's "My Last Contest"
~ Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven"
~ For the contest: "The Raven" by Kelly Deschler.
Oh! how love has bloomed—
fantasies like wild flowers plucked
a collection of candlelight craves and desires
fill a wistful star-maiden’s basket;
a bouquet of white asters from Orion’s garden
grown in a fiery field of light against night
gathered in a hazy ribbon
and held in the bosom heat
of this Autumn bloom’s passion
tender is the kiss blown from star-dusted lips
a need to gain goodwill in the "om" of zodiacal light
incandescence in full blow from a single breath;
fireflies in a fervor find favor
with the midnight-scene-stealer; Selene
of locks of hair fair and skin lustrous bare
fertile with romantic flair—
as this swooning flesh-and-blood-angel
closes her eyes and seeds her dream
with the sheer intimacy and cosmic love-play
of wishes wooed
amid astral petal-points pulsing with promise
rosy sparks burn in a slow-dance dip..
one slips through the water-colored layers connecting
Sun of bright and Moon of dark in the thrill of twilight
where hues suspend in sensual rendezvous until
merge of his-and-her-skies diverge until the next dawn -
there! up there..
falls a star with my name on it
and here..
laid into your wished-for-hands;
a stargazer’s galaxy of heartbeats
with y o u r name on it -
as this dreamy red aster smiles falling like a star
for y o u
Blindly..
I beseech you
for my eyes won’t adjust
to this shaded maze of despair -
neither the lantern’s flame
nor a compass rose can help me now
in disrepair I need to find you
with fingers outstretched I raise my arms
groping for you like a eyeless babe for her mother
..but you’re not there —
a cunning thief this despair
for stealing my sight for a way out
Why won’t the summer solstice light this darkness
nor warm this anguished atmosphere..
am I to die here where I lie?
my undressed soul exposed to the wind-chill of your loss
naked in biting throes beneath a stony sun
desperate to thaw ice dams lodged in my bloodstream..
the winter sallow of my heart’s shallows a skater’s delight —
a cunning partner this despair..
ice-dancing with my pain
Where is the air I need to breathe..?
it’s evaporated with you and the dreams we used to dream
the weaver a double-dealer stealer..
life no longer lives in my poker-faced lifestyle
nor in fantasies long gone from sleep’s clouds
moth-eaten desires and grit and tears
too holey and harsh to knit a warm reason to swaddle in -
just let me close heavy hope-chest-lids of empty eyes
and take my last shrinking violet breath —
a cunning spy this despair
for infiltrating my will to survive..
Susan Ashley
October 11, 2020
N/A
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22
Sponsor: Mark Toney
(reformatted)
~ First Place ~
Contest: Will To Survive
Sponsor: Silent One
The Glass Ceiling
“Woe there sister, where do you think you're going?
Turn around, go back, stop, cease, desist!
Nothing for you above my see-through barrier.
Yes, yes, I know you can see them up there.
They are welcome up above.
Why?
Well, because they have an outie and not an innie.
They have their ice cream with nuts and you don't.
They are the plug, not the outlet.
Only snakes and snails and puppydog tails.
Keep out all of the sugar and spice and everything nice.
Blue is better than pink,
Mars vs. Venus…. Bla,bla,bla.
Oh-ho! That's rich!
Don't make me laugh, YOU BONE THIEF! YOU RIB STEALER!
We ALL know you can do the exact same work, as good or better than them.
What's your point?
And don't make it too sharp, huh?…we wouldn't want to crack the glass.
What you need is a good dose of Saint Paul, girlie.
Saul or Paul, sure had some gaul!
Ha! Oh man, I crack myself up!
We'll, not literally because…well.
Now, Sing it with me!
…”anything you can do, I can do better! I can do anything better than you!”
No. wait! nevermind! Forget I said that…
Hey, hey!? what are you doing?!
No! Girls aren't allowed here!
…Stop that singing!
Soprano is my Kryptonite!”
…Walking on, walking on, broken glass…
”
Betrayal
I taught you care but I was wrong
You really not the person I taught
You were...sometimes I wondered what you
Think of me...I asked myself a million questions
Only to find zero answers...
Why didn't I take the instructions...
I taught you were with me while I was just alone.
I was left with the shadow of you. I didn't realized
That you left before time.
Didn't even say goodbye...even though i
Knew that time will come.I was not ready.
We all had hope that sun will rise again
Bt never knew what the day after was holding for us
When it was time,we were not prepared
We even forget that the date it written
No one has the power to change it
It is said that date and time is unknown
You left me wondering,you left me asking
Myself questions. Why you,Why now,Why here.
But the time was now & nothing was gonna change
It was suppose to end here.Right now.
If I could I would have asked to extend you time
With mine. But we lived this life like this.
When it was time,it came as a surprise,shock
And i brought fear and anxiety.
Eveyones Conscience was asking who's next?
If life was numbers I would count to infinite.
Do we cry for you?better we cry for ourselves
Why are we still here,what are we waiting for?
Death is uncontrollable human stealer
they call her kind, they call her bright
a whisper soft, a spark of light
but fairies lie, and mortals weep
when stolen dreams no longer sleep
she flits through keyholes, thin as mist
with ice-cold breath and silver wrist
her fingers pluck, her hands embrace
the dreams that drift on moonlight’s lace
a child who dreams of golden halls
will wake to bare and empty walls
a lover lost in passion’s heat
will find their heart grown slow, discreet
the painter wakes with trembling hands
his colors drained like drying sands
the singer coughs, her voice undone
the poet stares—but finds no tongue
she keeps them all in hollow glass
a thousand dreams that none surpass
some hum like wind, some scream like fate
some claw the dark, but it’s too late
for once they rest in faery hold
no hands of man can break their cold
a wish once lost is lost for good—
she leaves them hollow, where they stood
so bolt your doors, and bar them tight
do not give welcome to the night
for if she comes and takes your spark
you’ll never wake beyond the dark