Long Surfed Poems
Long Surfed Poems. Below are the most popular long Surfed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Surfed poems by poem length and keyword.
You are the fresh pink rosebud when it blooms.
A creek murmurs as it passes past smooth rocks.
such as the hive bees' jig if they're full of perfume.
Curlicues on a vine look like your eyelash locks.
Red-winged birds have wings on their plumes.
Your laugh sounds like waves on a pond surface.
A cat's purr is as humming in your favorite size.
Coral sunsets over calm seas have a clear purpose.
As darkness falls, I gently kiss your closed eyes.
In the pit of hell, where there is no extra service,
In my empyreal den, I can feel your company.
"Amore mio," my creativity brings you to life.
When I surfed the web, I kept you in mind, honey.
I utter a sonnet, thrilled that you ease my strife.
Your delightful glance outweighs a pity symphony.
Flames jolted her body, indicating victory.
As the party became louder, she felt in charge.
Cheers and laughter could be heard from a mystery.
Rushing over farms and hills, yelling in the barge.
Attempting to stop her would have been history.
She smiles happily as the light caresses her skin.
She could hear the murmuring of the spirits at home.
A delightful, terrifying indifference swirled and spin.
She needed to relax in the halcyon springs to come.
She was almost there, nearing the valley's light therein
Written: February 12, 2023
What did God do on the Seventh Day?
I think He woke them up, Adam and Eve,
“Hey, grab breakfast off a tree and let’s leave!
Come on, sleepy heads there’s no work today,
but there’s plenty to see and games to play!”
They raced camels through multicolored sands!
It was wonderful with God’s travel plans!
They surfed and swam from far away beaches.
They roamed much farther than my mind reaches!
They had a great time laughing and chatting,
all harmony without any spatting.
They laughed at Baboon standing on his head
and harder still at something Dodo said.
They watched the sunset from God’s favorite place,
Then lay on their backs and stared into space.
When they were done, gazing up at the stars,
God whispered, “Let’s visit Venus and Mars!”
Nothing was impossible! It was great!
But they were human, so when it got late,
God the Father got them home and in bed.
He tucked them each in and kissed each forehead.
Exhausted, there was no need to count sheep.
Adam and Eve’s sleep was dreamless and deep.
As God returned to his home in the sky,
He thought, “Next weekend I’ll teach them to fly.”
CONTEST: What did God do on the Seventh Day?
SPONSOR: Curtis Moorman
DATE: 10/28/2018
Inspired by my own dad and how happily he took us on vacations.
Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, Nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.
1 Corinthians 2:9
While looking for a bridge
to cross over tonight
Connecting time honored values
to internet blight
I thought and I pondered,
as I surfed on the net
But the things that it offered
were sadly abject
Where is the laughter,
the thrill of the chase
Through forest and meadow,
with all of your mates
Gone is the connection,
looking eye into eye
Replaced with an I-pad,
and virtual lies
The children are programmed,
their bits and their bytes
With screens the new playgrounds,
their couches—their life
Where all of this leads,
I’m fearful to know
As I look for that bridge,
where our youth can still go
To return from the chaos,
to a welcoming time
Where friendships were made,
in a tree you just climbed
But the harder I search,
the dimmer it gets
Quicksand reinvented,
their minds it besets
Though cards stack against me,
I remain on my quest
The young are still worth it
—and hope never rests
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)
Aunt Verna really loved my benign timbre, the way I cuddled words as they came out.
Treasure troves unlocked with mystic reverence, would add a little sunshine for awhile.
How cleverly I sculpted rustic idylls as I spoke,
the warmth with which I told of beech wood log fires,
old breakfast fare beloved by homely folk I’d neatly sketch,
those settings I portrayed with just a tone.
Horizons from afar and wondrous lands, journeys from the centre of the earth, rainbow clouds I planted in her heart were warmly welcomed.
That kindly face transformed itself when taking in my poems about the sea.
She loved when salted yarns infused an image, the frothy waves and reckless storms engulfing it.
Those oceanic eyes of my dear auntie, always revelled in the surge of every sonnet, as they surfed the silver tides with magic flair.
An epic verse would have this woman mesmerized,
some April breeze would prompt a tender smile,
a butterfly bewildered would do likewise.
Spring colours could be readily restored, each time I had the privilege or chance, of transporting someone precious to an earlier enchantment,
to that time perhaps when life had just begun
One year passed, since BB broke my heart.
On 2025.09.25, EC told me,
His favourite song was "Top of the world"
I promised I would play it,
When I see him next week.
EC was one of my piano loyal fans.
From memory, he first found me in February this year,
After I played the piano at MC for half year
Since then, every week,
He made efforts visiting and listening to my music.
He was also the first person,
Who tipped me with a note,
Again and again, until I stopped him.
Six months on, he told me his favourite song
I promised I would play it on his next visit.
I have been listening to it in that evening,
And wakenup by it in the early morning.
Some how, I felt I could not play that song,
It did not go well with my feelings.
It was not the kind of melodies I would play.
Don't get it wrong,
It was a beautiful song,
It was just not my type of music.
While listening to it,
Somehow, it provoked me to read my diary,
All those that described my feelings for BB.
Strangely, I felt blessing from our friendship,
Missing his caring and helping.
Longing to ask him to fix
The damaged firmware Apps.
Which BB installed a while ago.
I knew very well, our relationship could not live
Beyond what it had already reached.
That was our fate and destiny.
On Monday, 2025.10.06,
It was Chinese Autumn festival,
I visited BB second home.
There he was, sat at the desk,
Surfed on the internet.
He was wearing a black jacket,
A light dull green padded back pack
Which rested on the computer desk.
His curved back seemed to get worsen,
Other than that, his appearances,
I would say, it had not changed a bit.
Good luck to his tragic stories searching,
Good luck to his voice raising,
Good luck to his soul mates and life meaning finding.
I loved to say, I have not missed him at all,
Since when I could not recall.
Two opposites, unknown of their fate,
Randomly surfed the wide internet before it was too late.
From one end of the country to the other end.
Scrolled and scrolled, like it was never going to end.
Oh! It was just a click, that's how we met.
From hesitant texts and calls,
To glee when texts and calls are received
And later turned to elation.
Oh! It was just a click; that's how we connected.
Excitement and nervousness just rushed
When we met for the very first time, we just blushed.
There was no lack of delight.
It's hard to forget that sight.
Oh! It was just a click; we felt something ignite.
Later, it turned into hope and positivity
The foundation is built on trust and love, togetherness and unity.
We met, the folks met, and the process went on.
And finally, we tied the knot, vowing to never be apart.
In happiness or sorrow, in light or darkness,
In beautiful times or ugly times.
We vow to share each moment together,
And walk through all the odds and evens together.
Oh! It was just one click,
That we found each other for life's sweet and bitter journey.
Rest assured wisdom is found within the act of hibernation. Regeneration
of the Alls creation is to be sought with none around. Removing the sounds
& chatter that life brings, allows one peace that can't be bought. Thought's
come together in pieces, while winter weather unravels the ties & loosens the binds the seasons found. Inside the temple of the living mind are rough waves to be surfed in foreign lands. The sands are familiar as life's beaches are closer than seconds & minute hands. Your house is an hourglass full of small stones that slowly but surely slip away. This period of rest is a sure way to engage the
all & reset the clock in every way.
Rif and Raf
Had a wrath
Both drew ice-cold bubbling baths
Soothing the whiff
Starting the tiff
Not ending as a morgue stiff
It sure stinks around here
Should be foaming with cheer
Wishing fraternity guys were here
Until a spear
Surfed their beer
“What the heck!
Rif, go out and check
Who is trying to lynch our neck?”
Rif stood there
Energized from the scare
Feeling the luring stare
“Can you sprint a dash?
I will give you a couple bucks cash,”
Offered a mysterious fellow
Turning Rif mellow
“Who are you?
Voyeuren honestly rude
Watching our pity patty feud
Not expecting any unsolicited guests
Wanting to glance at our sorority final exam tests”
“Cameras are rolling
You may want to get going
This is your big scene
Let out that scream
Making you a Queen
Due to the psycho fiend”
When production is done
Rif and Raf will continue their fun
Knowing the run
Will make teenage boys return
Despite their characters filling an urn
Ashes retrieved after an exotic night
Concluding when they lost the combative fight
Earning film credit
Acknowledging the one that gets it
In the end
Just as the writer penned
An odd
feathery down-
turn of newfound
dreaded funds was fortu-
nately worth more than what the hated Fur-
ry Rotund Honey Dew knew to be water fronting wooden draft-
y thunder dogs so worn and dandy that the Candy Man alone
could run like Daddy throwing deft redun-
dant forts around as if
the 14th Door
had come
unglued
revealing nothing but a fairy hut with 20 clown head toadies trending up-
ward where
the Theory Runes are read by nude defrauding dry
Mad Dorks who author notes defying the very turf
we've surfed so far today
and further on into the night that not
a single sole can say will end up swell in terms of Old Brown Shoe
repair.
One day in mid June, in far off Rangoon.
The hand drawn baboon, a comic cartoon,
Was flown to the moon, by hot air balloon.
Then late afternoon, while in his pontoon.
A massive monsoon, blew like a typhoon.
He fired his harpoon, what's next! sometime soon.
4/ 28/ 2017.
( The last adventure of baboon continued )
With Mayday maroon, tied to his galoon
He ditched his cardoon, but ate the dried prune.
It was oppotune, with some good fortune.
He missed a sand dune, and surfed the lagoon.
Then with a soup spoon, rowed home to Cancun.
He now plays basoon, in some old saloon.
This was added after the contest was judged.
The first of May twenty seventeen.