Long Supping Poems
Long Supping Poems. Below are the most popular long Supping by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Supping poems by poem length and keyword.
The Greenwood - Villanelle
Under the ancient greenwood’s leafy shade,
Beneath the hornbeam and the spreading oak
Where moonglow shines into the sylvan glade
From the Elven harps magic chords cascade.
Harebells ring at exactly midnight’s stroke
Under the ancient greenwood’s leafy shade.
Fairy wings flicker as each note is played,
Ancient Songs the gossamer strings evoke.
Where moonglow shines into the sylvan glade,
Pixies in green cloaks from toadstool skins made
Dwell with happy and content forest folk,
Under the ancient greenwood’s leafy shade.
Rows of acorn shell drinking cups displayed,
Tree Sprites supping dew-drop wine laugh and joke
Where moonglow shines into the sylvan glade.
In light breezes, scents of wild herbs pervade,
Fires emitting chestnut scented smoke
Under the ancient greenwood’s leafy shade
Where moonglow shines into the sylvan glade
01/20/2019
On a spotty, sprinkled day, at the Plott's house on the block,
A squatty Uncle Scotty had sent a polka dotted, cuckoo clock!
The family said "That's handy!", and found a spot upon a shelf
For the dandy, new Swiss timepiece,...next to toddy mix and tea pots!
While Mommy Plott washed all her pots, Daddy Plott worked in the yard
The children, too, were caught worn out, after swatting flies so hard
By the twilight of the evening, they were worn, like pennies spent
Supping lentils, corn and pintos, ...then, up stairs they gladly went
Daddy Plott turned out the lights, falling, plop, right into bed
But bolted up with such a jolt!!...loud "CUCKOOS!!" hurt his head!!
The brand-new clock, made such a noise, his nerves hung by a thread !
That yoddling bird, that could be heard, might wake the neighborhood!
It popped out every hour, and the sour house would shake
With a hollering "CUCKOO' voice....with an awful racket made!
They covered it with pillows...and took it from the room
But the "CUCKOO-CUCKOO-CUCKOO" could be heard...from even the moon!!
They would just doze off, fall fast asleep, and think that it was done....
But when the hands said Next O'Clock......it would cluck out lots more fun!!
One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock...four....!!
The poor little bird, with his voice getting sore....
Saying 'cuckoo', ....'Cuckoo'......"CUCKOO!!!" again !!!
So Daddy took out the tick...........then he took out the tock
Then he defrocked little birdy.....so that he couldn't talk
Now it sits on a shelf.....in the house at the Plott's
Even the clock's little birdy.....can sleep like a rock!
the words
spoke clear and were defined
in each and every different
sylaball.
trust me to never
love you
she said in the moments
she allowed him to see her
than my presence is wanted
might they agree to meet!
either in it's meaning,
or pursuance of direction
might the lesser confusion
of knowing make you less
eager to agree.
collaborate
to have him weirded
that all beneath heaven shall
hate him.
in his new light might
we reveal to a world
how foolish it is to love
that those who can conspire against you
might meet to
sober the wines
of celebration
those that knowest
might now be beyond the circle
that they may wonder
in the land
as merchants
of their own product
harvest the fruits of your labor
and sup upon the nourishment of this earth
that he that seekest your treasure
might find dessert
among your harvest
Stuck indoors
with nowt to do
Decided to clear
a cupboard or two
Now some
may call me a hoarder
Though to me
they’re nostalgic mementos
Each one evokes
movies inside my head
Of the reason I kept it
Did not bin instead
Like the cork from a bottle
of vintage champagne
For the life of me now
no memory remains
Of this special occasion
whilst supping the best
Now wracking my brains
and scratching my head
My memory is blank
So I bin it instead…
A heart shaped beach stone
engraved with a kiss
from somebody special
from someone I miss
No clues
No ideas
as for so many years
this heart shaped stone
has languished alone
From whence did it come
I am puzzled
I am vexed
No clues
No markers
Come into my head
My memory is blank
So I bin it instead…
Then lastly a seashell
from a beach long ago
Inside grains of sand
trickle over my hand
From somebody special
From a place far and wide
An exotic beach now out of reach
I have no clue
tears fill my eyes
I weep
I cry
For the life of me
I don’t know why
What happened
to that innocent girl
The one with
long auburn hair
I look all around
she's no longer there
For now all I see
is little ole me
With hair of white
looking such a fright
My mind now slow
my body too
all muddled
all dead
inside my head
~
will someone please bin me instead...
Written 11th April 2020
Contest Strand Pick 9
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st PLACE
Our long time catered chef...
prepared a meal fit for (psst... me) a king
Actually professional cook
(trained since infancy)
long a staple of our family
since... oh way before
my bubba's zayda's time
naturally became (according
to rules of primogeniture)
the feudal rule by
which whole real estate
of intestate passed
to eldest son, i.e. yours truly
automatically included:
aide de camp, chambermaid,
essential frisson gourmet hotelier,
lion tamer, jack of all trades.
Thus surprise meal of
mid/late afternoon May 17th, 2080
constituted: gluten free pasta
(celiac raged rampant
one generation to the next),
vegan cheese, V8 juice,
diced onions and garlic,
and steeped with special
ingredient – namely tlc,
not available anywhere
but, just enough
tender loving care to buzzfeed
the whole mishpacha,
which gathered from far and wide
every Sunday afternoon
since Moses parted the Red Sea.
How glorious to feast upon:
delicious smelling than tasting,
humongous apportioned
splendiferous concoction
conglomeration ofttimes referred
to as popslop,
which general household name
lacks culinary delicacy,
and honorary specificity.
The meal made manifold more appreciative
after a hard day's night sleeping
within an ornate bedchamber
comprising our lofty abode
upon groggily awakening each morning,
I betook sweeping view
out uppermost bay window
pleasant view of Schwenksville proper,
(which I accomplished
with flying colors
eight days a week)
experiencing vibrant dreams constituting
living social the life of Riley.
After adequately supping on repast
which if any leftovers got repurposed
for next sumptuous meal,
either one prepared later that same day,
or come the morrow promised taste buds
to experience out of this (Martian) world
another savory experience fit for none other
than king of schnorrers!
Contrary to popular belief
hen pecking mother goose,
nor her ilk of coterie of four
and twenty blackbirds
purportedly baked in a pie
completely groundless supposition
crust a stale rumor
circulating courtesy deluxe
twenty first century technological
and ecological (of course)
invidious rumor mill.
God is standing at your door
giving an appointed time to come
for He's knocking at your heart
waiting to hear your step one by one
When God puts out this call
He issues an if casting doubt
for you need ears and eyes open
to receive God's still voice it's no shout
God will stand there for a time
but you need to open the door
His grace needs a space to enter
then a little ajar shows there's more
The Lord wants to give you far more
coming close draw near for your supply
together supping with each other
being united in Christ your battle cry
Sadly some will not open this door
sinfully unwilling to believe this be true
but you believe upon Christ for mercy
for God's open offer you receiving do
("Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man shall hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him and will sup with him, and he with me."
Revelation 3:20)
Down the bottom of the garden
where the mushrooms abound
is where you will find our home
pretty houses made of cobwebs
They sparkle and glitter in the sun
see our fairy ring where we dance
the largest mushroom is a palace
the home of our beautiful queen
We sometimes will play tricks on you
by hiding things or even moving them
no spite meant, just our sense of fun
tending to nature's garden is our aim
We will blow some fairy dust on you
to make you small and give you wings
so now you too can be a fairy for a day
and play your pranks on hapless friends
Now join us at our magical fairy ring
as we sit supping nectar from harebells
walk round our fairy ring three times
make a wish, it might just come true
written 08/05/2013
contest Fairy Dust
“Within”
Shadow dreams
down silent roads
never taken
less than travelled,
the winter breeze
of the world within,
pulls out the hidden
message planted,
within
the quickening
attempts slow
anchoring,
the call persistent,
beckons, like the music
drumming softly,
lulling, calming
the rocking boat
in the heartbeat
rhythm of a contract
seeking solace
heard from the seat
of forgotten being,
a ghost banging
on the doors
of empty vessel,
conversations holy
for the supping
You open ;
the unseen
stands holding out
its hand at the
door of your
conscience,
you are
escaping back to
what is real
within,
the awakening ;
the quickening
attempts slow
anchoring
the call
hauntingly familiar
beckons you forward
away from the
time confining
sands of your shores
rippling cool
all those times
all those stories
you loved
over your bare feet
now walking
across seas
annointed
by water
the call,
like a dream
hauntingly familiar
beckons you
forward
like the sound
of your beautiful
Ocean
True Love
is calling
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
ljb-llb-gvlm
ljb-klb-mlb
jk-ak-iob-tob
“Non-Eternal”/Max Richter
https://youtu.be/9zkQX2FrRLM
“In the morning of life,
before its wearisome journey,
The youthful soul doth expand,
in the simple luxury of being;
It hath not contracted its wishes,
nor set a limit on its hopes;
The wing of fancy is unclipped,
and sin hath not seared the feelings:
Each feature is stamped with immortality,
for all its desires are infinite,
And it seeketh an ocean of happiness,
to fill the deep hollow within.”
“Know that we have met before
and that we will meet again.
I will find my way to you
in the next life,
and every life after that.”
“The Soul selects her own Society -
Then - shuts the Door -
To her divine Majority -
Present no more - ”
rev 3:20 KJV
The Mother-Child Soul Contract -
https://www.ascendedpresence.com/blog/mother-healing
https://energyboutiquehome.wordpress.com/2019/05/11/the-mother-wound/
https://in.toluna.com/opinions/3421285/How-Souls-Choose-Their-Parents-and-Families-An-amazing-and
I adopt dainty etiquette
when quenching thirst or dining
to buzzfeed growling beast
inside me tummy.
The missus requests obedience
raising both my little fingers in the air
upon taking beverage or repast to lips.
Additionally, she also requires I
(well healed husband who toes the line)
perform dance shuffle - think clog
feigning to trip over feet
as if yours truly quaffed to much grog
while balancing atop log.
Miss iz manners re: lee the spouse
sets prime example being lady like,
what with her belching and snorting
of course with mouthful of food
no surprise she nurtured impolite brood
raised on learning language crude
even this Geico caveman exhibits
less coarse attitude,
he likens himself to subdued dude
trying his darnedest (golly gee)
to avoid family feud
general behavior hashtagged as rude
linkedin with antics qualified as lewd
encouraged nsync while
slurping or masticating in the nude,
whereby other body sounds made
unsuitable for strait laced and prude
folks who don't take a fancy hearing
so called uncouth soundclouds exude
out body orifices considered foul,
inapropos and extremely lewd
when unless quarantined in solitude.
One upside of COVID-19
postprandial aural emanations
(all time favorite flatulence)
knows no outward bounds
unless colorectal explosions
register highest magnitude
when measured in concert
with handy dandy
blues clues rattle seismometer
and register courtesy
Richter Scale and the Mercalli Scale
direction and intensity of earthquakes.
Upon experiencing aforementioned prime mate
i.e. the bellowing gal offering herself as ahem
(pardon the double entendre) master bait,
I knew from the get go
Tex-Mex Connection
in North Wales, Pennsylvania
where we shared our first date
(outsize bean burritos)
I tooted my own horn,
she unwittingly got me into checkmate,
just for that her fate got sealed,
when our respective gametes
(ova and sperm cells respectively)
new life we did miraculously create
the first of two female offspring
would become housed in utero
and come to resemble
a spheroid somewhat oblate
even now unnamed counterpart,
(and partner in crime) still swell person
hook hood benefit to lose some weight,
cuz... well adipose freight
quite ample around equator.
Viv had planned to be out supping real ale
But his wife had a different idea
Furniture assembly - Viv's face turn pale
but he gritted his teeth, and said ‘yes dear’
Alas, to poor Viv's utter dismay
the instruction booklet could not be found
With stiff upper lip, it won't mar his day
His ******** expertise will astound
So Viv got to it, banging and screwing
to achieve an outstanding ********
Celeste the cat’s contentedly mewing
Watching Viv work to utter perfection
Viv's DIY skills were put to the test
He reached his goal with no help from Celeste!
Poem based on Viv's blog
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/blogs/blog_detail.aspx?BlogID=33348&PoetID=62162
My ONLY sonnet in 2018
3/8/18