Long Thrilled Poems
Long Thrilled Poems. Below are the most popular long Thrilled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thrilled poems by poem length and keyword.
You guys are totally amazing
These friendships that I have found
Sends warm fuzzy feelings coursing through my veins
It's euphoria and it literally abounds
It can't be found anywhere else
On that you can bet your last buck
We're a most unique collection of loving individuals
Blessed to be showered with such luck
Must have done something very unique
To have earned this fabulous adventure
Whatever this thing was, it was sure worth the effort
You guys are smack dab in the centre
My life without this gathering of poets
I don't even want to contemplate
I'd walk around the streets kicking stones all alone
I ain't kidding, I'm telling you straight
You guys make an amazing difference
Getting up each morning's a great thrill
To see who's written these loving words to me
I am constantly thrilled by it still
They are so thrilled to see him come around;
riding his sleigh in the deep snow...
laughing and making that jovial sound!
Santa, don't rush downhill, take it slow;
the roads are slippery and the deer are running wild,
don't to crash into them to be there on time!
What if Christmas was without Santa this year,
and his coming was put on hold?
Would the children listen to their mama, so dear,
when she tells them to go to sleep...
because if they stayed awake for too long:
Santa Clause wouldn't slide down the chimney!
Sleep and you will surely find those gifts on your bed,
but don't expect what you wish for...if you've been bad!
Sleep and dream that he'll tip-toe to your bedroom,
wouldn't you like to peak and make believe you're asleep?
And will Santa not see you wiggle under the sheets and and stoop?
Sleep with joy and dream of what tomorrow could be!
What if Christmas was without Santa this year,
all the lights were shut down
in every snowy city and town;
what if no stars twinkled on each adorned Christmas' tree,
and the church bells stopped ringing?
Wouldn't the sad angels, looking over Jesus, stop singing?
Come Santa and make everybody happy;
it's not the gifts that matter, but your goodness and laughter!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Chocolate, flowers, cards with hearts,
And the message each imparts:
“You’re a person I adore;
Who could ask for something more?”
Tell us that today’s the day
We must have something nice to say
To husbands, daughters, sons, and wives:
We’re grateful that you’re in our lives.
Even though I see your flaws,
I accept them all, because
All your plusses far outweigh
The foolish things you sometimes say.
The little habits that annoy
Do not mean that I don’t enjoy
The many ways you are so sweet;
You really make my life complete.
I’m sure you have your own long list
Of things I do that make you pissed,
But underneath the love is strong;
That’s why our union’s lasted long.
So on this day of sentiment,
I think of years that came and went
And I am thrilled you still are mine,
And hope you’ll be my valentine.
For PD's Valentine's Day poem contest
Ninety days till springtime
No more silly hats and mitts
Can't wait till robin red breast
Sings its happy springtime hit
It's by far the sweetest season
When that feeling is attained
You wake up each day singing
That happy spring refrain
Could there be a greater feeling
Away with that big red nose
You feel the warmth all over
Right down to your very toes
It's how one gets through winter
The promise of days ahead
Thrilled with the sight of crocuses
No winter storms to dread
You may say I'm a wee bit early
With my ode to springtime fun
But ninety days goes by quickly
Can almost feel that April sun
So hang on just a wee bit longer
It'll be here before you know it
Probably think I'm a daft old man
Or just a silly old poet!
© Jack Ellison 2013
One can only dream...
It could be anywhere
In a small town somewhere
A decorated scene for Christmas
With colorful lights shining
Everywhere outdoors
All the stores decorated bright
With colorful lights red,green, white
All the lamp post outside done
Gleam with red, green, gold
Shimmers that sparkles in light
People gather outdoors
With their children thrilled
All waiting for an evening parade
Not just any parade- a Santa parade
To begin for the first time at night
Then when the parade is over
Then everyone goes to the Meeting Hall
It is there Santa is seated -waiting
For the children to visit him
Each takes a turn to sit on his lap
Then photo's are taken
Each child has a photo done
Taken with Santa Clause
To keep as a treasure
As a memory of that day
I am summer, flitting around in a faerie like way
Landing on iris, lilac, tulip, rose and Queen Anne’s lace.
A pesky loud bumble bee is following me, but I am evasive.
I glide into the shadows of the woods, avoiding his meanness.
I paint my happiness into joyful beasts – dragons and pirates.
Sun comes in through the window to take giant peeks at my progress.
I bask in her interest, adding neon yellows, golds, pinks, and greens.
There is something refreshing about me today; I am a new woman.
I am summer, splashing around in a salt water pool.
Throwing my enthusiasm into the air in a maniacally relaxed way.
School is out, and exuberance and mirth bubbles out of me.
I am joyful and excited, and thrilled.
Ever wonder what happens if one day they switched the Wheels of Fortune into the wheels of memory, with the host announcing, look folks today we play a new game, call it sympathy game, here is how it goes. You each select a name from this list on the screen, it’s Gaza casualty list, and then learn all there is to know about your new identity. Let me give you an example.
Sadeel Ghasan, a 15 year old from the Jenin refugee camp. Her parents came from Al-Kabri overrun in 1948 fearing a massacre.
Sadeel had three siblings, only one left now, Mahmoud 8, old enough to know Sadeel was an angel, excelled in volleyball and marth, that her head was crushed. They’re still collecting pieces of their parents, also killed by tank fire.
So, here’s the game. When I point at you, stand and say I ‘m a Palestinian, my name is Sadeel, I used to have a fair full of hair and am headless now. No, I did not die by natural causes. I now live in someone’s memory, it’s warm and cozy, and am thrilled to know one day they’ll bring the tank commander to justice for his atrocities.
My friends, we have to keep breaking the chains until the gate opens
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
A hasty glance shook my heart to leap up
Brought tempest and I was swept away.
Crept and crawled in depth of your gaze.
A glimpse of you haply happened sharp.
Encompassed with charm in every breath
Devastated drowned and flown in craze.
Glory of emotion reached perfection.
Fascination urged even to embrace death.
Your hurried look tumbled my heart into soul.
Thrilled to sense heart-piercing expectation.
Lightening of love flashed: I swallowed my hiccup.
Heartbeats skipped: Passion to rock and roll.
Sweetheart! You are my first love at first sight.
You smiled lending your hand to hold tight.
Amour in glamour, ardent ardor in sprite.
Dear! Let us unite making life full bright.
02/23/20
Poetic Line Used:
'A hasty glance and still my heart leaped up'
'Lines to awaken your muse' Contest by Joseph May
how I yearn for July and that stout
summer swoon
the long sunny days and the eves'
swelt’ring moon
but sweet April's weep, as it runs to
the rills
is a soft song of spring-tide that
splashes and spills -
no, I can't rush dear April - it's gone
much too soon ...
how the gorged summer days ever
stretched in the past
rife with play and carefree - yes, I
prayed they would last
now each breaking morn finds a
mockingbird's song
and I've waited that warbling, sweet
psalm far too long -
no, I can't rush dear April - it's gone
much too fast ...
oh June swells with romance - thrilled
hopes 'midst July
mischief made in the dunes while that
moon winked on high
yet, now peepers' songs ravage late-
winter's gloom
and branches sway heavy with buds
bound to bloom -
no, I can't rush dear April - (tho' May's
drawing nigh) ...
oh I love nothing more than bright
summertime, fair
all the hazy and crazy days - devil-
may-care
but a crispy spring morning while birds
chant their love
speaks a rare blessing, born from the
heavens above -
no, I can't rush dear April - I'm hooked
on that air …
too brief are those days and the joys
I’ve found there
how its breath lifts my soul and soft-
tousles my hair
oh I'll never get bored with dear April,
quite rare -
no, I'll NEVER be bored with dear
April ...
Copyright © 2020 Gregory Richard Barden
( pastel painting by my talented sister Terrilynn Dubreuil - find more of her work on sale at travelingartista.com )
Skies bring happy tidings; Hear peals of thunder "clap"!
Lightning brings great illumination with no gap;
Why should barren clouds move with no torrential pour?
It's, thus, when my soul thinks, wings, begins the rare "roar"...!
Each creature proclaims beauteous divine nature,
Each little leaf "jingles" his love-legislature;
Slowly falls in landscapes "drizzly" drops; soothing-filled
"Pitter-patter" of rain, then, benign smoothing-thrilled...!
Am I hearing the breeze "gargling" to hear her throat?
Have pandemonium of parrot lost their coats?
"Crash" and "creak" and "croak" are heard from nook and corner,
Bull-frog, rat-snake or fish – which is fit for honor?
Angry winds "slam" the doors; As you open, drop "splash"!
"Boom" "beam" and "bop" from nowhere echoes like air-crash;
"Mumble" of butterflies-primroses speak volume,
"Babble" and "rattle" and "gabble" and "chatter" "boom"...!
"Click clickery clack" of the sound of train unseen,
"Cling clung crackle" of landscapes I have never been;
Am I dreaming in ninth cloud as I am happy?
Surroundings seem so splendid; scenes solemn, sappy...!
These games of nature we need to be acquainted,
Beauteous is the sky! So prettily painted!
Talk on God needs Philosophy, theology,
True love-living lies in truest anthropology...!
07 July 2022
Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet