Long Tail rhyme Poems

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


Premium Member Singing Butterfly

I am a butterfly that loves to sing,                                                                       every note and word I do fling,                                                                          to rhythm I do cling,                                                                                        music by the flowers has a beat and ring,                                                       the ladybugs threw kisses with love.

 

Big Green likes to join in,                                                                                     his deep frog voice comes with a big grin,                                                        our sounds will make you spin,                                                                           we like to play outside of the inn,                                                                       they say our voices fit like a glove.

 

Rose is a backup voice,                                                                                       then there is sweet pea Joyce,                                                                        take both and do not make a choice,                                                                  with the four of us we can now rejoice,                                                            is this called garden music~kind of.

 

We play and sing all night long,                                                                          the flowers like to sing along,                                                                            everyone likes to hear tweet~tweet from the birdsong,                                      some of the music can get real strong,                                                              in the end it sounds like from heaven above. 

     

Date Written: 4/8/2022

9 Place

aaaaf, bbbbf, ccccf, ddddf, eeeef
Tall Tales 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jeff Kyser


Sweet Childhood Memories

"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
                       Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge (from his writings)

I fondly recall the innocent days of my childhood,
playing hide and seek among the backyard boxwood,
and life as I knew it then was sweet and good.
              Country life was always fun.

I treasured Christmas tree lights glowing in the dark,
family gatherings each summer in Audubon Park.
In my younger years I was as carefree as a lark,
                enjoying days in the sun.

With my little sister beside me we made mud pies
and didn't see anything wrong with little white lies
or that dancing like ballerinas in the rain wasn't wise
            until our pirouettes were done.

I enjoyed having an allowance that I could spend
and sharing whispered secrets with my best friend,
wishing our playing time outside would never end.
                    How I loved to run!

In sweet memories I recall swimming in the lake,
helping Mom in the kitchen when she would bake,
and eating more icing than I had put on the cake.
             Having fights with a water gun.

How wonderful were my days spent as a child,
Dad called me a tomboy because I was a bit wild.
I was happy and content with life, always beguiled
               with everything I'd done.

My braided pigtails were yanked by a silly boy in school.
He giggled like an idiot thinking he was so cool,
til I fought back with a fist and called him a 'stupid fool.'
                   That battle I had won.

If memory serves me well, I remember not liking boys.
Always wanting their way and making too much noise.
I preferred playing house with many of my stuffed toys.
                 Boys were creatures to shun.

I was very competitive and wanted to win every race,
and didn't care much in those days about ladylike grace.
I recall being angry with myself for falling flat on my face
                   and not talking to anyone.

I've photos of me since I was born and it's plain to see
that my childhood was a very delightful time for me.
With a loving family like mine, I grew up quite esprit.
                  I love them all, a ton!




October 8, 2022 - A Constance La France Contest
Writing Challenge - Past Memories - "T" Forms Poetry

Premium Member Gravity Hill

"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."      Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge (from his writings)

There’s a magical cemetery north of here they say,
It’s a pleasant place to visit during the day.
Be sure the gate is unlocked if you plan to stay,
some just go for a thrill!

Visiting the dead is not the only reason to go.
A paranormal natural illusion awaits, a creep show.
A strange, haunting experience is all we know.
We need to listen, be still.

Pitch black at night, a warning if you easily scare.
Running out on a grave gets you points, it’s a dare,
I heard it in school, they do it bare but it’s rare,
and against our will.                      

On a lonely stretch of road, objects, gravity defies.
When you get to the spot, your vehicle flies.
And all must be quiet to hear the spirits cries,
or see feathers of a quill.

Santeria is noted when feathers have been gifted.
In space, the car, with all of us in it, will be lifted.
This is a story ‘bout the Halloween night we drifted,
through Gravity Hill.

An old Chevy Impala is what we teens packed into.
Fright stories were told along the way, some true!
Hair stood on arms, Bloody Mary, was one of the few.
It gave us such a chill.

One girl shouted; I looked in the rear-view mirror!
I saw her ghost!  And so, it couldn’t be any clearer,
We were close, suspenseful of what grew nearer.
Then sounds of a French trille.

Natural illusion’s tricking everyone, in a mystery spot,
With no view of the horizon line, and near a dark lot,
The driver put the gear in neutral like he was taught,
as if by magic, began rolling uphill.
                    
A slight downhill slope appears to be going up slope.
Then somebody asked, did anyone hear that? Nope.
A cayote ran across the road, had hoofs like an antelope,
with a wide grin and grill.

A layout of the land produces an optical illusion,
What you see is what you get, my conclusion,
Let ghosts lie, for it is us who are the intrusion. 
Memories non-fiction, no frill!

GRaViTy HiLL
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

The Tale of My Birth

Hot as hell, emotions fire the flames, 
Nervous about meeting doctors, nurses, 
Curtain separates them from congregation,
The veil is not torn in two, but steamy adulation, 
Courts their friendship sessions to distance, 
Bible fanatic from mum, with a secular pretence: 
Stationed to obey that mile that you go, 
Faithful to womb child who does overthrow, 
That divine validation of mundane everyday life, 
Which never does blot his copybook, he’s your invisible wife, 
Just because nothing bad happens, then he’s loving, 
To be a feature of your relationships and thinking,
So good to give you a furtherer of your animations, 
So fine to set converts and following by time within your devotions: 
Baby born, and the first thing they said was Jesus! 
But I did adjust like a jet, right arm spasm, religion to suss, 
Because i had not related perfectly to my mum at all in her beauty, 
By getting into a tizzy, a fix about her vaginal cavity:
The umbilical chord did suffocate around my neck, 
Three times, and three times to many, ‘cos i hit the deck, 
Put in an incubator, a machine my life to sustain, 
Where i didn’t depend on maternal caresses to obtain, 
That blooming continuation that does greatly assure you of your future, 
You expectations, your understandings and boundaries to nurture; 
The machine of oxygen and warmth did suffice, 
To love this new born child as cold as ice,
To spiritual things and to worlds unknown, 
By humankind who only know hell when it’s thrown;
And as I did lurk in my hospital bedroom, or ward, 
Like a businessman who is playing the sure investment card:
I wished so much that black book to just disappear, 
As it only wrought despair, anxiety and tumultuous fear; 
My parents friends, stone cold as delinquent thieves, 
Prayed though those days as they sang “Bringing In The Sheaves,” 
Whilst appendices of nurses added that they’d do, 
Convincing my parents, including doctor-trained dad, that I’d pull through, 
They just read the bible to me, over and over, 
Through glass ventilator, that separator which did cover,
Happy as chuck, pleased as punch and relaxed enough, in that clever machine, 
I clearly didn’t see what they did mean, 
Because I was dressed in the NHS, nothing less, 
Never this sin to render or confess.

Premium Member Death In France

So shocking was that news from France,
we stared at TVs in a trance;
no way to understand.
Those young and old without a chance
were taken down in wide expanse.
Such horror had been planned.

Who could have then foreseen the fate
upon them cast by those who hate?
Just gathered there for fun,
not knowing that their deaths await
while music played and people ate,
their lives were over, done.

Who could have thought ahead that they -
that enemy that wants its way
to change our form of life,
would sacrifice their own to say
that their belief we must obey?
Misguided thoughts run rife.

That Paris scene that fretful night
prepares us now to face the fight.
Define this threat once more
that could erupt within our sight.
Entire world must join the fight
to face this crusade war.


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Rime Couee - Tail-Rhymed Verse - For France
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Judged: 01/03/2016

~2nd Place~
Contest: Best Sad Poem EVER
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Judged: 08/29/2016
=============================================
Rime Couee
I went with this pattern for Rime Couee as shown on "The Poet's Garret" website

x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x b
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x b

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The  November 2015 Paris attacks  (sometimes referred to as  11/13) were a series of coordinated  terrorist attacks  that occurred on Friday 13 November 2015 in Paris, France, and the city's northern suburb, Saint-Denis. Beginning at 21:16  CET, three suicide bombers struck outside the Stade de France in Saint-Denis, during a football match. This was followed by several mass shootings, and a suicide bombing, at cafés and restaurants. Gunmen carried out another mass shooting and took hostages at a concert in the Bataclan theatre, leading to a stand-off with police. The attackers were shot or blew themselves up when police raided the theatre.
The attackers killed 130 people, including 89 at the Bataclan theatre.  Another 368 people were injured, 80–99 seriously. Seven of the attackers also died, while the authorities continued to search for accomplices. The attacks were the deadliest on France since World War II."  Wikipedia


Premium Member A Hunter Boy's Penitence

A hunter boy born to God fearing parents
Was taught from his very early childhood;
Failure to attend church on Sundays needed penitence
As it was an act of defying God and dishonoring His parenthood
The boy faithfully took the advice to his heart
		
But his fad for hunting was too irresistible to put away
Brazenly, he skipped church on one Sabbath day
And roamed through the jungle looking for a prey
Like one on a treasure hunt, excited and gay
He dreamed of hunting down a bird or beast with his dart

In wild enthusiasm, he clambered up every hill ad vale
Exploring every cranny through bush and brake
As he turned to a dark corner, following a trail
There stood a lion and no doubt, his valor did shake
He started shaking and shivering in great fright

On an impulse, the boy turned backwards to run
Alas, he slipped off and rolled down the peak
With the beast chasing him in hot pursuit, like a demon
Crashing on a boulder, his ribs broke with a creak
With dizziness, he knew, he would collapse straight

Unable to run or even move, he writhed in pain.
Trembling from the crown of his head,
To the soles of his feet, as the lion closed in
He realized with a shock, he would soon be dead
And knew his disobedience was the sole cause for his fate

In great desperation, he cried out with all his heart
“Lord, I am so sorry for my willful omission
Please forgive me and save me from being torn apart 
Make this lion a good Christian with all compassion”
And rid me safe from this miserable state

Lo, the clouds parted in the heavens with a creak
And a beam of light shone down on the aggressor
The lion skidded to a halt and suddenly turning back
Fell on its knees and clasped its paws together
As if it was full of contrition for its wicked act

In thankfulness, like a good Christian of benevolence
The lion drew the sign of the cross for God’s grace to overpower
And recited in a tone of great reverence and forbearance
“Father in Heaven, bless this food that I am about to devour!”
Before it sprang, through some strange providence, the boy escaped intact


------------------------------------------------

April.8.2022
Tall Tales.2. Poetry Contest
ababc, dedec…. Tail rhymed tall tale
Sponsor- Jeff Kyser

No Hope For a Borderline

I've spent the last 7 years trying to find a cure for whatever's wrong with me
The sickness in my head and heart that nobody else can see

The sickness that caused a craving for something i could never find
A sickness that escalated every emotion in my heart and mind

People thought I was attention seeking and completely insane
But what they didn't know is I only did those stupid things as a way to deal with pain

My heart aches for something to fill an empty feeling that won't go away
My brain aches for answers about why I turned out this way

My family gave me the strength and faith to make it through my teenage years
My mum and dad were always there to protect me from my fears

My sisters were there for me too But thought my choices were wrong
I was always to jealous to keep our relationships strong 

My relationships have always hurt me and I ended up in pain
They all told me to go kill myself like my emotions were just a game 

It didn't matter how many people loved me it was still never enough
So instead of loving people I started loving stuff

I started loving computers, mobiles and everything I could get
I got credit cards and loans I put myself in so much debt 

Still the empty feeling was taking over every aspect of my life
Erasing my ability to feel happiness at all and putting me in strife

My family thinks I'm getting  better but what they do not know
Is when I am around them I do not let my sadness show

I try not to show my boyfriend but It's too painful to keep my feelings in
So now along with misery and anger i feel guilt for the way I've treated him

How do I know if it's worth it the amount I always try
Maybe this pain will never end, maybe I deserve to die

My diagnosis says my brain was under developed so now I can't deal with pain
I also can't deal with being alone I was destined to turn out insane

I was destined for money problems and drug addiction too
My sickness controls everything in my life, everything I do

I wish My brain couldn't Think and my heart couldn't feel
Maybe feeling nothing would would allow me to heal

My diagnosis says it's not likely to recover so I know I won't be fine
My diagnosis says everything will hurt me, There is no hope for a borderline.
© Caty Rose  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Deep and Dark

Deep and Dark
                               
          My hankering for you, my longing for you, 
           my desire for you
          do not allow my thirsty eyes to close the lid.
            My aspiration for you, my delight for you,
               my earnest zeal for you
               always occupy my mind.
             But how do you feel? 
                   I am in dark still.

         To listen to your voice, to respond to your call
               to reciprocate your say
              my eager ears are alert.
        My emotion for you, my feelings for you,
                  my passion for you
            ooze from the core of my heart.
               But how do you feel? 
                   I am in dark still.

        My tension for you, my stress for you
                my worries for you
           do not give rest to my brain.
          To know your mind, to pierce through your heart
                  to perceive your urge
             my pulse beats are always in strain.
                    But how do you feel? 
                       I am in dark still.

          My grief for you, my sorrow for you,
                      my pain for you
              opt for your soft gentle touch.
                Just one glance, a little smile,
                       Just a simple ‘Hi’!
                        I won’t expect much.
                        But how do you feel? 
                          I am in dark still.

                      My love for you 
                  analyzed by my brain,
                    felt in my heart,
                and defined in my mind
              is released through my soul.
                  I could not control.
                 But how do you feel? 
                       I am in dark still.

             Neither brain, nor mind
              neither heart nor soul
              can't have any explanation.
                You are beyond my guess
                 My brain, heart, mind 
                  or soul can’t express.
                    But how do you feel? 
                       I am in dark still.

  12/26/15

                   Deep and Dark Contest     Sixth Place
    Sponsor Broken Wings

Love Behind a Door

Walking down the street
With a fast pace heart beat
Not knowing where I am going
Not knowing what path is ahead of me
Looking in all directions
Not knowing what I am looking for

Bam…it hits me like a brick wall
I turn my head and there is this girl standing about 5’6 tall
Her body glowing in the moonlight
As I look up to the stars and look back at her
She has a smile on her face that is ever so bright

Not knowing what to say
The beauty of this girl has left me speechless
I am like a little kid not knowing what to do at recess
Do I walk past her and say hi under my breathe
Do I give her a head nod so she knows I am looking at her
No no no

I finally build up my courage and approach her
Next thing I knew I woke up and everything was a great big blur
I asked myself
Was I dreaming?
I roll over to get out of bed and there’s a number
So I think why not give it a call

She answers and says hello
Shocked that its really her so my words come out slurred as if I was melting in snow
I ask if we can meet up to see if it’s really the girl of my dreams
She says yes with no hesitation
So as I arrive at this certain location
She comes out the corner 

In awe I can’t believe it was really her beauty and all
My legs got weak as if I was about to fall
I took her to lunch and had a ball
Laughing and smiling 
I couldn’t believe I was out with a girl of such stature 

As we wrap up lunch and begin our sunset walk
My feelings for her are still in utter shock
I begin to open her door with all her feelings
But she slams it in my face 
I am thinking to myself she has been hurt
But later she says “I got something to tell you”
Me having a good idea and a pretty good clue
She says she is taken
I replied no you must have me mistaken
You’re the girl of my dreams
Sadly that’s all she will ever be

Have you ever wanted someone in which you can’t touch but only see?
I am so foolish to think a girl like that would ever be into me
I slowly walk myself down to the local store
My feelings are hurt and my heart is heavy as I hit the cold floor 
I should have known that there was already love behind her door


© Jeremy Fennell

Premium Member In Search of Yesterday

"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge

We often say that time waits on none of us.
Getting on board life's bus is simply a must.

A most fathomless affair; this search for yesterday.

We say that time seems to take wings and flies.
It's vital that we learn to keep up with time and thrive.

When young, we look forward; when older, we look backward.

Before we reach our destiny or arrive at the end of the line,
Those long-ago memories, with tears, will lay hold of our minds.

We recall the love that embraced us; the security that protected us.

In our search for yesterday, we hope for the best,
But it is very painful when we find so much less.

So, if you pursue such a quest, be brave and strong.

We recall a piece of our life's puzzle that we desire to experience again.
Some pieces are forever hidden, and we cannot locate those that remain.

Some pieces, meant only for yesterday, will not fit for today or tomorrow.

Although we can go back to where we once lived in another time,
those things, places, and familiar faces, we are not likely to find.

Even the most familiar surroundings are often unrecognized. 

We will often find sadness, strangers, and feelings of loneliness.
The feeling of love, security, and homeliness now feels like wilderness.

A most strange emotion, a sense of abandonment, often hovers over us.

Time is indeed our friend, but time cannot sit with us on the dock of the bay.
We search for yesterday, and anticipate tomorrow, but must go forward today.

Forward, because landmarks and every trace of yesterday are gone.

After realizing the only sameness was the open sky,
Deep inside the core of my heart, I utter a sigh,

I paused and stared for a while and then drove slowly away.

Some 50 years of time had left a most bitter pill;
And I shall long remember how 'Time' made me feel

The search for yesterday often leaves unpleasantries.

102222PSCtest, Writing Challenge - Past Memories - 'T' Forms.
Poem Form: Tail-Rhyme. Constance La France
Poetry Soup Gramma-Check

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