Long Time of year Poems
Long Time of year Poems. Below are the most popular long Time of year by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Time of year poems by poem length and keyword.
The hollow sounds of fog return this time of year.
Loud echoes of potato chip crunching tires on frozen snow.
Disappearing into the city night as stars emerge from hiding
in a black-blanketed sky. We move toward the cusp of country,
body twitching with remembrances of anticipation.
That first dark nighttime sky away from city lights,
glimpsing the Milky Way Orchestra tuning
its sound to the touch of our senses. Oh yes, there is a tingle
in the air. The first tiny ting of triangle leading to such a
crescendo of silence so loud you cannot hear with common ear.
You hear it with your soul. You may see a frozen deer along
the tree line staring or a fox half-halting with its searching ears;
miniature gramophones scooping giant swathes of air for sound
and hearing none. It is a silent swift of fog between the moon and earth
that lends its leverage to the Universe. One verse for us all tonight.
Poetry Wheel Challenge:
Theme: Adventure
Emotion: Courage
Color: Pearl
Season: Midwinter
Form: Ode
Object: Mirror
Verb: Sing
Created using the PoetrySoup Poetry Wheel.
Sing a song of adventure today
It's Midwinter time of the year
Solstice ~~ snow is falling, everywhere
Colours are pearl white, so bright
Everywhere my eyes do look ~ extreme beauty
Sparkles all over trees, oozing light
How I love this time of year
Mirror ~ mirror on the wall
What is my emotion today ?
Mirror replies " it's courage my friend "
" your strong as a lion, especially when problems arrive "
So let us all sing a song of freedom
Every season of year ~ not just at Midwinter
Not Invited
When it’s that time of year for beer and reunion
For high-jinks and thoughts and comradely communion
And having a party to be reunited
There’s one who won’t be there – who wasn’t invited.
I don’t like to dance or to wear fancy dress.
I don’t feel the need to get up and impress.
To watch drunken foolishness makes my blood freeze,
I’m even embarrassed by a loud public sneeze.
I’ve never been trendy or one of the boys,
I’m pretty much deaf when there’s ambient noise.
So when events come that are “Not to Be Missed!”
My name won’t be on the participant list.
Never a guest or a welcome Plus One,
Passed over in favour of someone more fun.
My absence not noted, my presence omitted –
Twas always that way – my face never fitted.
Do I feel jealous when old friendships I see
Renewed over decades, that don’t include me?
Does my heart give a lurch, do I feel rejected -
Old Billy No-mates who’s always neglected?
Well it doesn’t feel great, I can tell you for nowt
When lifelong friends are the friends I’m without.
But there’s no point bemoaning a fate that is set,
Nobody cares if I rue or regret.
If I can’t join in, then the problem’s myself.
Where friends are concerned, mine’s a life on the shelf.
So when there’s a gathering, I won’t get excited.
I guess I won’t be there – I wasn’t invited.
Up north there are four seasons in a year…a fact that cannot be debated.
In Florida, however, those four season are more subtle and understated.
In fact, the seasons come to Florida in a kind of disarray…
It is possible for us to experience all four season in one day
We have no snow…our leaves don’t change color…most of them stay green
but take a walk with nature in March and you’ll see exactly what I mean.
Morning are still cool and breezy…a beautiful way for the day to begin…
but that same afternoon can be hot and humid…a sign that summer’s creeping in.
As you watch Spring and Summer duke it out…you realize…that’s not all
because every breeze in March encourages the oak tree’s leaves to fall.
You hear the wind from the safety of your house…upon your roof you hear a rain-like sound
because as the oak trees shed their leaves they are also raining pollen on the ground.
When rain mixes with the pollen on our houses, our cars and patios… it tends to make a mess
and though we love our oak trees…we curse their deciduousness.
At the same time of year the Oak Leaf Rollers show up…no that’s not a band
It’s the larvae of a brown moth…hanging from the oaks by a single silky strand.
It does’ t matter how carefully you walk…it really does’t matter what you do
when you get home…there’s a good chance you’ve brought a few green worms with you.
And just as there will be a few days in March when the heat and humidity makes you sweat
we’ll also have a few cold days…it’s winter reminding us she’s not done with Florida yet.
So on a morning walk in March…it might be cold or breezy or there might be humidity in the air
you might be wearing shorts or coats and you’ll have worms crawling in your hair…
All signs of how the season are more subtle here….how in Florida we find a way
to experience Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter…all in the course of a day.
Scads of decades ago...
Metaphorical mama's yoyo
came undone, unleashing woe
doggone wizard of oz sought in toto
afore final picture show
would play staging pro
sic cuter determining
irrevocable fate oh no!
Approximately this time of year
(circa mid December) as
Christmas holiday doth near,
yours truly donning his unrecognizable
incognito custom tailored corporeal wear
well worn, timeworn, and careworn
birthday suit - most
frightening Halloween scare
transient boyhood lad
spooked with fear
courtesy grizzled old man,
who toothless doth glare
at much younger self
sporting scraggly gray hair
searches happy go lucky,
innocently naive, fancy free
and footloose spare
slip sliding away shy kid 'ere
timid, solitary, reservedly...
imperfect triangulated square
peg in round hole
quizzically, soundlessly... mere
roaring, reflecting, and ruminating
riddled with despair
methinks him foreigner, stranger, harbinger...
unavoidable, hellacious, catastrophic...
pitfalls he ain't aware
impossible mission to bolster near
deadly encounters with
maniacal mailer daemons
stealing his harmony, jollity, spontaneity...
knocking him out stone cold no prayer,
nor wing can revive, he will appear,
whence straddling prepubescence
agonizingly scared shuffling, skulking
sputtering... collapsing upon
his scrawny derriere
bony posterior subjected
necessary iron injections
courtesy Harriet Harris (mother)
licensed practical nurse buttressing
emaciated frame hiding her tear
filled eyes, while sole son
wishes grim reaper cursed harridan
freely clutching him onto elysian fields,
where abound spirits
of grateful dead everywhere.
It's Halloween and as we know
It's a special time of year
There's scary things and ghostly beings
Meant to bring out fear
There's lots of innuendos
I hope you do not mind
If I can take the liberty
As some may not seem kind
They're meant to make you Snickers
And put a smile upon your face
Please forgive me for my twisted mind
If that is not the case
I'd like to know, if you'd mind
If I tricked you with my treats
Your like a tasty candy bar
I'm sure you're sticky sweet
I'll take you to the Milky Way
Or maybe even Mars
I want to squeeze you Bun so tight
My rock candy is so hard
You're like a Peppermint Patty
You take my breath away
I'll bring you years of Almond Joy
I've so much more to say
When you lick a Lollipop
It makes my poor heart race
I wish that you would unwrap me
Let's cut right to the chase
I'd place some Miniature Kisses
All around your luscious Mounds
I'd start with licks, then give you my Twix
Till you shout O Henry loud
To taste your Whatchamacallit
I would give 100 Grand
And move my Butterfingers
All across your skin
You can bet that Mikey likes it
And his Pop Rocks would explode
How many licks would it take to get
To the center of his Tootsie Roll
I'll be your Sugar Daddy
If you will let me be
I hope to Skor, at least once more
Without the Musketeers 3
I'd share with you my Payday
If that is what you choose
Then we could Rolos over
To 5th Avenue
I promise you no needles
Can I poke you just in fun
I hope you've found Good Humor
And it's the best Bar None
Three Sure Signs of Christmas
There are twelve days of Christmas, everybody knows that
But there are only three signs to know it’s time to start getting fat.
The first sign that Christmas is getting really quite near
Is all the new toy adverts on the telly that suddenly appear
They are on the telly before kids return to school after summer break
There are lots of toys to buy, they tell us and even some Christmas cake
Never mind the partridge that’s sitting in the pear tree
Or the French Hens and the five golden rings
The second sign is Cliff Richard back, selling his songs and things.
Calendars and tickets, to concerts around and about
I’m here come buy my wears is Cliff Richards only Christmas shout.
The third sign of Christmas is also the television screen
The Coco Cola train runs daily, set in a pretty Christmas scene
Christmas isn’t Christmas without Coco Cola, they would have us believe
We can’t have Christmas without it, because everyone would grieve.
Without TV and Cliff Richard, Christmas would not happen at all
No Christmas dinner or gifts and no works Christmas ball
There would be no Turtle doves, or Maids to go a milking.
No cheap deals and cons, for people to go a bilking.
No money spent at this time of year would be a catastrophe
We would just have to carry on with our same routine daily.
Christmas is not what is was, even the dates are a bit of a misleader
It was mixed with Roman Saturnalia, to appease the then church leaders.
So for all those that celebrate remember you have Cliff to thank for it
Enjoy your time this year, and all those presents that do not fit
Don’t think of me as humbug or even a Christmas killjoy
I wish everyone what they wish for themselves and others
And I hope that your Santa comes, to help all the mothers
Have a good time one and all, at this special time of year
And remember to thank the telly and Cliff, for all this Christmas cheer.
It’s that time of year again
when lights are strung, wreaths are hung
and glass balls in every color and shape dangle,
sparkling from evergreen branches
in homes, displayed in front windows
with plastic Santas, (some waving)
standing in Styrofoam snow
for all who pass to see
Department stores are all a shimmer
with sweaters and mittens
lining shelves in themes of red and green,
as illumined reindeer hover overhead
the frantic shopping crowds while
sales clerks wear red pointed hats
with white furry balls atop
City streets are draped in
silver and gold glistening garland,
offering season’s greetings
as even traffic lights seem festive
with “Jingle Bells” blaring from
car stereos through open windows
inviting the cold air in
And I chuckle,
not in a bad way, perhaps in a selfish way
for you see, I know that this is me,
no matter what time of the year it is
because my heart is decorated
with the most beautiful ornament
I could ever find…your love
And every day is Christmas to me…
Written for The Heart of Christmas poetry contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose
Written: July 28, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Brian Strand
*************
The poem is inspired by the sonnet “That time of year thou mayst in me behold” by William Shakespeare
This variation on Sonnet XL1 illustrates what Kuhlmann intended.
Kuhlmann is a verse poem of two phrases interspersed with three related syllabic stem- words(nouns, adjectives )with an integral title. The label and form are derived from the baroque poet Quirinus Kuhlmann's 50 sonnet form Love-kiss XLI.
**************
Through flame: volatile, heat, light:
the metamorphosis
by night: stygian, cimmerian, peaceful:
near oblivion
by season: perennial, vernal, brief:
ochre haze
through heart: pulse, trust, will:
mystic confluence
from time: aeonian, transient, rigid:
euphony linger
through creed: esoteric, hollow, dogmatic:
undying spark
through age: golden, venerable:
filigree prison
through soul: immortal, eternal, cosmic:
oracular obelisk
by heaven: empyrean, elysian, celestial:
ethereal erasure
from perpetuity: ceaseless, fixed, static:
cenotaph sermon
through love: fervent, serene, poignant:
amber drape
from belief: devout, pragmatic, visceral:
inmost pulse.
Preface: This was written long ago and I, just by the way of surviving see things a little different these days. BUT! I am going to post it anyway. MERRY CHRISTMAS! :)
Christmas is coming and theres nothing I can do.
Its become the hardest time of year since the day that I lost you.
People hurry scurry and skidoo.
While I'm locked inside and feeling blue.
These bars upon my window, they're not made of steel.
And that you cannot see them, doesn't mean that they're not real.
I've called out in anger.
And I've called out in prayer.
But silence is the only sound that fills the empty air.
I spend christmas eve with family galore.
Then I pick up my few gifts and head out through the door.
Its strange, because I never thought that I'd become.
A sorrowful, lonely, tired old bum.
When 40 years old is still yet to come.
Destiny doesn't always play fair.
If it did, in your heart I'd know that you still care.
But I know now that someone else sits in my place.
At your dining room table all covered with lace.
So home with my empty and tired old soul.
Where ever Santa only brought me a small lump of coal.
Another lonely christmas, without a doubt.
Dear Jesus, please tell me, just what's it all about?