Long Tee shirt Poems
Long Tee shirt Poems. Below are the most popular long Tee shirt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tee shirt poems by poem length and keyword.
As the morning breaks, in a summer day
a bare foot boy, in blue denim overalls,
red and white striped tee-shirt, and straw hat,
rolls up his pantlegs up to his knees, and stands
on the narrow river's white quay.
Alongside the tall rustling sedge,
where the water is cool, busy meadow bees hum,
annoy as he holds his long cane pole.
A quandary. Anxious, made him quiver, takes a step,
Then two, then three, against the rustling sedge.
Outraged, he bids, go away you, with sully fire.
Stricken by slanderous words from out of his mouth;
Suddenly replaced with silence and unease.
Penance for your soul to be cleansed.
The tears he shed, a boy of quaint poise,
Burdened with the weight of such sin.
Like perfume oozes through air,
Hearing his murmuring pitiful word, Sorry.
To him was the worth of not gold, but platinum.
3/1/2021
Mind Your P's And Q's Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner
Penance Poise Perfume Platinum
Quay Quiver Quandary Quaint
Gold Dredging
Early morning first light
Camped on the rugged, mountainous terrain
Out of our warm sleeping bags and tent we crawl
To the smells of pine and clean fresh air of the mountain
Wood starts a sizzling, spitting, crackling campfire
For early morning hot coffee and a warm breakfast
I Dress in tee shirt and swim suit,
Hubby is in his wet suit
We walked down to the creek
Pull the dredge into the creek and get it started
When he hits bedrock where gold might be hiding
I stand beside the sleuth watching the
Gravel run over the riffles
I make sure the riffles stay clean
So the heavy gold
Will deposit behind them and on the mat
I see the flash of color and utter excitement
I yell, “We've hit gold,” impatient
With my tweezers and small jar
For safekeeping and
I keep on cleaning
When the day is done, tired, wet, and weary as a drowned rat
We clean the miners mat into a bucket
By the campfire we sit and pan our gold from the black sand
After the hard day’s work we undertook, it is wonderful
To see all the sparkling gold dust in my pan
The same warm excited feeling
I felt when my husband placed
My gold wedding band on my finger
12/27/2014
I'd have whispered, "you're daddy's little boy,"
my everything, my bundle of joy.
We would have explored the cafes, parks, and glades,
snapping photos and improving your grades.
We would have gazed up at the stars above
feeling secure in the bond of our love.
And together, we would have shared the earth,
rejoicing in the miracle of your birth.
If only we had more time...
I would have explained the golden rule,
teaching you the lessons not taught in school.
And during your early, formative years,
I would have nursed your hurts and wiped your tears.
You would have entered your teens chasing dreams,
Defiant, in your tee-shirt and blue jeans.
And we would have discussed the birds and bees,
learning about life as you skinned your knees.
If only we had more time...
My heart would have filled with a father's pride
when you knelt at the altar with your bride.
The tears I saved to bless your wedding day
are not able to wash my grief away.
You spent six months amongst those who loved you,
and we gather here today to wish you adieu.
I think of all the things we would have done,
but fate chose to take you away, my son.
If only we had more time...
(Rhyme)
2/26/2016
Brrrrr my alarm clock wakes me with a start. I open heavy eyelids to see sun streaming through a chink in the curtains. Bounding out of bed I hurriedly dress in my bikini and cover up with my shortest shorts and tightest tee-shirt. With my arthritic knees and varicose veins I am no Betty Grable, but I’m gonna prove once and for all that I can still cut it! Grabbing my surf board I head off to the local beach where my family are gathered for my 100th birthday celebrations. There is an air of anticipation as I strip down to my bikini and dip my toes into the freezing water. White spume crashes up the beach as I paddle out on my surfboard, everyone cheers as I stand and begin cresting huge waves eventually coming to rest on the damp sand. My son wraps me in a fluffy towel and hands me a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He presents me with a telegram from the Queen and a gold envelope containing a voucher for my next challenge of wing walking ...I just cannot stop smiling!
centenarian
surfs like flipper the dolphin
palm trees blow in breeze
Hey Write a Happy Haibun Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
2/7/19
You you can the boy out of the bush
but you cant' take the bush out of the boy
That's Me
When first I left a country school , I couldn't wait
to move, to work and reside in a major city
Three years later, couldn't wait to return to the bush
as I felt remorse and a sense of self pity
A man of simplicity, is what I claim to be
Far away from bustle, noise and angst
returning to the bush, a longing to be free
Referring to attire, a pair of shorts and tee-shirt that will simply do
No collars, ties or business suits, done that,
as the barefoot bard, I don't even own one shoe
When our lovely female postie comes up our drive to deliver a confidential letter
I'm often standing in my best attire, my birthday suit (the only suit I own)
i have to quickly run upstairs, find a pair of shorts, she probably thinks I'm now looking so much better
And if you check out all the poems I have posted on the soup
you will note I only use the form of rhyme
As a sign of my simplicity
the only one that I'll, use for eternal time
September 11, 2023
Today Marks 22 Years
Written: By Tom Wright
People, some jumping to their death as if to fly,
helpless to escape, a cherry red inferno, in the sky.
Black billowing smoke, now hangs horizontal as a flag,
while misguided terrorist, in the name of Allah, brag.
Amid concrete and scrunched steel piled high,
black columnar smoke billows upward to the sky.
Through cracking voices many attempt to speak,
as first responders view the aftermath, and confront its reek.
Media anchors speak of freedoms that under foot are trodden,
while our outrage is directed toward Osama Bin Laden.
As citizens, many seek forgiveness for this anger that we feel,
while viewing America’s wherewithal, and her cohesive zeal.
On vehicle, tee shirt, and flag pole, Stars & Stripes are shown,
it seems, that for a time at least, patriotism has grown.
Many wonder why, in the name of religion, Nations fight,
why each must push our tenants, and flex our might.
Why terrorist bring destruction then quickly leave,
leaving untold thousands dead, and many more to grieve.
They commit despicable, cowardly deeds, and scurry underground,
content to live in caves, to plan and plot to kill until found.
God Bless America, a distressing “motto” many find,
Those schools banning its use, agitates my mind.
A younger generation questions, why war in their day,
the answer simply put, freedom is costly, and all must pay.
Never forget!!
When you walked in
My gaze just froze
I watched you cross the floor
In focus on you
From afar
I stood there wanting more
To spend some time
And talk about
The whimsical and light
To laugh and look
Into your eyes
And lock in with your sight
All day, all night
I'd spend with you
I'll sleep sometime, not now
I wouldn't let
A moment pass
Not loving you somehow
My little bluebird
Fly to me
Alight now on my lap
I'll stroke your wings
You're tired now
So you just take a nap
And when you wake
All rested up
And ready then to soar
I'll fly with you
Anywhere
No longer wanting more
ONE NIGHT STAND?
It seemed so simple at the start,
A one-night stand; no questions asked,
Then back to hum-drum daily life.
Her face, all innocent as she approached
And perched beside me at the bar.
“Would a gentleman buy a lady a drink?”
Lowering my gaze to the too tight tee shirt
And the all too short mini, I wondered
About the ‘lady’ bit
But then of course the ‘gentleman’ bit
Was a generous description.
A dry martini was her choice
(I would have sworn she’d say a G and T)
And so I joined her, even though
I’m normally a whiskey man.
And, as we sipped, the thought occurred to me
We must have seemed to all the world
A sophisticated pair
And afterwards, as you’ll have guessed,
We wound up in my bachelor pad
For a euphemistic cappuccino.
After which my memory is rather hazy,
Till I awoke with sunlight streaming through,
And the space beside me cold and empty.
A note by the kettle said a simple, “Thank you”
I thought that was the end of it, but no,
The nightmare had just begun
23rd September 2022
Chapter 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Matt Caliri
We have crossed over the bridge, looking back from where we begin; we have crossed over the bridge and have paid dearly for our sins. The sins of lust burn with shame as we try to wrap up this promiscuous game; the days get longer, the night gets shorter and another month jumps onto the fleet.
The devil is strumming his guitar in the back while the ancient alter is spewing out poisonous gas. The scene looks magnificent from afar but danger is looming in the sky waiting for the clouds to roll by. We have been there for a long time, counting down the days when the wind would blow in our way.
The streets are littered with matter and the crows are hanging over the gutter, the grasshopper is jumping about in the bed and volcano erupts exposing the dead.
Thousands of them lined up in the streets, with long guns stretched across their back marching together in a unified manner while the general refused to give up power.
Several ultimatums were given to him but his eyes did not blink and so he held his grounds on a burning throne. The heat was so hot; he had to exchange his military clothes for a silk gown and a gymnastic pose.
We continued our journey across the bridge with a flip-flop on our feet and tee-shirt and jeans to cover our body that were exposed to the burning heat.
Down in the village it was overcast but we continue to press before it gets dark, we had no money or food to eat, we had to beg as we progressed along the street; some people had compassion on us but most of the time we ran out of luck. As the night bears down on us, we found someone that we could trust. She opened her hearts and took us in and gave us a nice shower, a healthy dinner and sends us on our way the next day.
We got some change to ride the bus and we got to our destination without a fuss and so we had to part ways when we reached the city center. I walked through the gate and for the first time I felt detached from someone that was holding on to my frock and bad mouthing me behind my back.
Now I have the space to breathe fresh air and connect to my heart that is so dear; I can still hear your voice mumbling on the air and I want to listen to what you have to share. I can feel your presence far and near. This was a narrow escape.
It was a mistake
for me to bring Ben.
Eleven-year-old boys
and birds don’t go well
together.
I took two pairs
of binoculars
in the hopes that he
would bother to look
in a pair.
The sky was tumbling
it’s full gray clouds
in a frantic tussle
over our little wet
heads and peering eyes
that scoured the trees
for anything singing.
“There is no bid
fallout!” Ben complained
with his arms pulled
inside his tee shirt sleeves.
He looked cold
and cranky.
“Did you hear the goldfinch?”
“They all sound the same.
Can we go home now?
The same birds are in
our backyard.”
The rain dripped
unevenly off
the thousand petals
of a dogwood tree.
Is anyone other than me
seeing what I see
right now?