Long Tinier Poems
Long Tinier Poems. Below are the most popular long Tinier by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tinier poems by poem length and keyword.
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As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
She flitted from flower to flower, and I thought she'd landed in my hair Perhaps the sweet-scented spray attracted her, this lady butterfly, so fair
Then, she flew to suckle the white jasmine blooms, on delicate wings I was mesmerized and felt my heart beats as if they were flutterings
Quite still I stood as she hovered before gently landing upon my finger Each flap of her beautiful velvety wings made me wish she would linger
Upon the morning's breeze she was carried until resting on a marigold I chased away a bumblebee who got near to her. I thought, "How bold!"
I watched the Monarch lay her eggs, each tinier than a mustard seed upon her well-chosen birthing place, a tender green leaf of milkweed
She hovered for a while longer, as if she pondered about her decision to leave her precious offspring, but she'd given them new life's provision
Food to eat when into little caterpillars they'd develop when hatched She'd done all she could to assure her eggs had been firmly attached
It was very intoxicating for me and of the experience I had to write about watching a butterfly do flyovers in my yard before taking flight
I admit having watched her as if she were dancing around me today kept me on the lookout for predators that might steal her eggs away
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2025
As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
She flitted from flower to flower, and I thought she'd landed in my hair
Perhaps the sweet-scented spray attracted her, this lady butterfly, so fair
Then, she flew to suckle the white jasmine blooms, on delicate wings
I was mesmerized and felt my heart beats as if they were flutterings
Quite still I stood as she hovered before gently landing upon my finger
Each flap of her beautiful velvety wings made me wish she would linger
Upon the morning's breeze she was carried until resting on a marigold
I chased away a bumblebee who got near to her. I thought, "How bold!"
I watched the Monarch lay her eggs, each tinier than a mustard seed
upon her well-chosen birthing place, a tender green leaf of milkweed
She hovered for a while longer, as if she pondered about her decision
to leave her precious offspring, but she'd given them new life's provision
Food to eat when into little caterpillars they'd develop when hatched
She'd done all she could to assure her eggs had been firmly attached
It was very intoxicating for me and of the experience I had to write
about watching a butterfly do flyovers in my yard before taking flight
I admit having watched her as if she were dancing around me today
kept me on the lookout for predators that might steal her eggs away
A paper has thousands of words written on it
Some in bold, while some in brackets
What's written in bold captures the attention of the beholders
While what's written in brackets holds secrets that nobody knows
It is only the author who's aware of those treasured secrets
Only she can decipher the meaning of that language
As she found those words too sacred to not be penned down on paper
But here's the twist
Someone got hold of her secrets
And decided to tear the paper off before someone else could read them
He said he was protecting your privacy
But in reality, it was his privacy that was in jeopardy
Because it was all him on the paper
It is all still him she thinks about now and later
The pieces of that torn paper still reside somewhere
What's left on those bits is ink that trickles down slowly everywhere
You can tape the paper back together
But it's too fragile to keep itself together
It will tear into tinier pieces when you remember who tore it in the first place
Now imagine your heart being that paper
The words being your feelings
The bold ones being everything you expressed
The ones in brackets being everything you supressed
And after the storm
The shattered pieces were the bits of your broken heart
The trickling ink was the tears running down your face
And well, the destroyer being that one person who still hasn’t rested his case!
My psychologist said I'm bipolar. I told him I wouldn't have sex with either a male
or a female polar bear.
Bipolar? You gotta be kidding- I've never been to the north or the south pole!
Bipolar? Why in the world would I buy a pole? I don't even speak polish.
What they say about us trailer-trash folks is more than true. My next door
neighbor has a red pick-up truck, with an engine so untuned, you could hear it in
Spain. Wears plaid shirts, weighs 350 pounds, has a rifle rack in his pick up, the
sight is kind of scary. And his yard looks like something I'd describe as a cross
between the Sanford and Son yard and the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. His
blinds are torn down the middle. There are enough parts of things about to start
a fresh industrial revolution. Sadly, he is the most sophisticated person in this
park. You gotta see when the mail truck comes, people come out of nowhere,
swarm about the mailboxs, like a scene out of the "Body Snatchers" where the
truck full of alien pods arrives, and people come out of nowhere. I mean, in this
park TV Guide is considered great literature!! I want outta' here! How did I wind
up here? What was I thinking?
So here we go again, my friends....Remember my offer of a free Tootsie Roll for
any comments, no matter how insulting (I'm used to that). chow
THE ARTICLES
In the field of physics and chemistry
Out of every jot and tittle
The atom was smallest there could be
It was so very little
But we found a way to split it
Now that we are so much wiser
Even tinier bits emitted!
It was just an appetiser
[Some think e=mc squared
Would be better left unknown
But once it had been bared
We just could not leave it alone]
Now if parts of language we list
Then the smallest bit or particle
(And I'm finally getting to my gist)
- has got to be the article
In China they're more spectacular
A different one for every noun
But in the English vernacular
We've just two to cast around
There's the precise and proper DEFINITE
With that you know where you are bound
But with the INDEFINITE there's a deficit
Of precision; you're on shaky ground
We could split them a little more
With linguistic synchro cyclotron
Create articles galore
And double our national lexicon
Still I'm happy to tell you A truth
Since, to choose from, there'll be a lot
But to tell THE truth in sooth
That would put me on the spot
So take care with these little words
Though they seem so small like a crumb
Trivial, trifling and for the birds
Used wrong they'll peck you on the bum
As quasar mixes the starry dust,
a newly formed planet en route’s a must;
new universes revealed beyond black holes
captivating stories are yet to be told.
Tiny newborn sails saturnian seas,
a Venus flyby in Saggittarius is a breeze;
absolute magnitude in glimmer sails on by,
soon new space he will occupy.
Whoops! Now dodging meteor shower,
a bruise or two won’t slow his power;
he’s on his very own spiritual quest
for new horizons where he will rest.
He’ll take his place amid the fold,
his travel stories yet to be told;
to tinier planets that he will meet,
he’ll even brighten eclipsing binary.
He’ll take his place in man’s Ephemerides,
oh the astrologers he’ll guide with ease;
to alter man’s future by their birth stars,
providing them with fascinating memoirs.
No planet in any galaxy,
will mess with this star’s alchemy.
He’s on a mission, this tiny young one,
his planetary cycle for millennia will run.
When you spy him there in your glass eye,
be sure to shout, “Hello, Goodbye”,
as he races across your galaxy,
you’ll marvel at his pageantry.
We had to hop the fence to see this Kansas property better.
Initially got cut up by sharp thorns, stickers and brambles
Fought our way past giant spider webs, wondering about snakes.
Oak trees surrounding the property encouraged us, so we kept going.
My legs were bleeding and I was in a terrible mood until suddenly
I was standing in the most beautiful meadow God could have imagined.
My husband and I were both silent looking at the fields of Queen Anne’s lace
Wild daisies, renegade iris and wild strawberries, peeked at us, and laughed.
I had never in my prettiest dreams imagined any land this beautiful in Kansas.
The air felt happier, there was a monarch, and tinier yellow butterflies.
My hopes soared to full optimism power, and my heart leapt a little
I turned to my husband. He was entranced. He said, “We have to buy this!”
That was twelve years ago. Best purchase ever. I chant and drum now.
I hug my trees. I am watched carefully by raccoon, fox, and deer.
I am one with nature, one with myself, and one with God.
This is what a beautiful landscape in Kansas has done for me.
Santa’s elves do love a Christmas sing-a-long,
you can bet Santa’s will never go wrong.
There’s cookies, cakes, pies, punch and hot cocoa
with cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger spice, you know.
When playing the organ Mrs. Claus is a whizz;
really, she should be in show biz.
Billy Bob passes out the music sheets,
while Mitzy and Millie bring out the eats.
Lil’Jim sits propped on his old oak cane,
the poor fella has some sciatic pain.
He shares his music book with Jake and Phil,
though young Jake’s voice is a tad bit shrill.
Skippy-Sam is a great baritone,
Grampy Gabbs needs to wear earphones.
The tinier elves sing in funny voices,
everyone laughs and rejoices.
Tiger Tooney the cat’s voice is a bit flat;
probably because he’s half bobcat.
As usual McNafferty wields his hand-carved baton,
for he truly loves directing a sing-a-long.
Now this can go on for hours and hours,
days or nights, that’s Santa’s power.
Through the winter should you hear faint singing,
it’s the Claus’s and their elves voices ringing.
The merry widow’s marvelous mincemeat melody
Was gradually heard around three by the old oak tree
Honestly said Bert, the bumblebee, is this the Grand Prix?
Miraculously, there was a royal red revelry
A chickadee landed on the right knee of Diana Dee
Making her a friend in furious practicality
Old oak tree receded into the loving forest canopy
Forming a deliberate, desired universal solid symmetry
Would you like a chewy chickpea Lee asked widow and me.
I heard hyena-like laughter from Leroy, the red-butted monkey
Rolling them in warm tortillas is the chef’s secret recipe
Flamboyant frog huffed away, jingling her copper jewelry
The rest of us stared, which we do on Wednesdays, habitually
Being yourself and making no apology is the key said monkey
The faeries made themselves tinier, they were in fact now wee
Lovely monorhyme in progress, guessed my observant cousin Vee
I must agree said my boss, the pompous persnickety Mr. McGee
The rhymes are rather delightful, and frankly, there are plenty.
You still remember how the sweetness of my heart made it cheaper
Maybe you didn't deserve any better
Baby now you're looking so thin
So let me feed you with a spoon
I have jelly and peanut butter
Let me learn where to place my legs
Baby now you're looking so thin
Let me feed you with a spoon
With times when I was truer to myself
You still remember how concrete my fear was
In the summer I'll keep on bringing to you my best cherries
Here where we are it's always freezing
So I'll go and find flowers on the field
You particitipate in life more often
So I put on my wings to remind you of the innocence we once shared
Let me feed you with cherries
I couldn't get any tinier underneath this blanket
Maybe it's wrong, this time I left them at the door
You ask me questions, you're yellow and pink
Now they come to me and ask me how silly I can get
None of that was real
But I write stories too
We learned our lines through reading
Let me open the window
And check if my rays are in sync