Long Toadstools Poems
Long Toadstools Poems. Below are the most popular long Toadstools by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Toadstools poems by poem length and keyword.
I sensed something spectacular was going to happen
So, I stayed in place, secure behind a fallen oak
The forest did not share secrets with unhidden humans
Feeling anticipatory winds from the west, I remained silent
The fey would not come out and play if they heard me.
Within a few minutes a faerie shower began
Faeries of all shapes and sizes rained in the middle of the clearing
A startled deer bound off, showing her white tail
I had no idea they could jump that high from a standing position
Faeries have a weird tittering laugh, it tinkles like dainty chimes
Hundreds of them landed on toadstools, mushrooms, and ferns.
I sneezed and they were gone in an instant.
The Breeghy
Few know of the Breeghy that has incredible power,
It can shorten a second or lengthen an hour.
And during the day the Breeghy cannot be found
For it sleeps by the toadstools, under the ground.
And if you ask which way did it go,
The toadstools will say, “With the wind and the snow.”
It has feet made of moss and a trunk and a beak
And feeds on dandilions at least once every week.
But the mystical Breeghy you never will see
For it hides in the shadows in the roots of a tree.
It wears clothes made of leaves in Autumnal gold
And the Breeghy will never ever grow old.
But late in the evening when the moon looks around,
The Breeghy slips quietly over the ground.
And when at last we are soundly asleep,
The Breeghy silently into our bedrooms will creep.
And in the still of the night when we sleep in our beds
It is the Breeghy that casts strange dreams in our heads.
In the morning when sunlight glows all around,
The mystical Breeghy cannot be found.
Sometimes you can hear the sound of its snore
In the distance, like the far waterfall’s roar.
Until the night when all of us sleep,
When into our dreams the Breeghy will creep.
4/22/17
Nut-brown owl nestled in a crooked tree
above the mermaid and jellyfish sea.
Scaly horse & teacup-octopus lads
near the sea-soaked teen; tail thrashes with glee
as her amethyst hair bobs and flows.
Nut-brown owl nestled in a crooked tree;
leafless branches with fantasia-tendrils.
Speckled doe, circumspect and still,
keeps eye on darling-pink faerie and her eglantine esprit—
oft spied nudging toadstools & splish-splashing lily pads.
Nut-brown owl nestled in a crooked tree—
eyes shut, oblivious of the gadabout show.
Steel-eyed doe believes fowl’s not asleep but lazy.
She’s diligent, but unlike the owl, her hearing’s hazy.
Still, champagne-wing’d sweetbriar faerie fancies
the nut-brown owl nestled in a crooked tree.
9/15/2021
I wander down the forest trails
the farmer collecting the last bales
golden brown they shine in the sun
the whirr of wings as birds escape the guns
The various gleaming colours of leaves
as spiraling down they twist and turn
the fields bare, stripped of their crops
now lay farrow resting until next spring
Some light snow at foot of trees sparkles
pristine and lovely against the Autumn browns
sullen yet glowing the grey skies attract me
as I stroll on down to the bubbling brook
Flashes of brilliance as the kingfisher passes
he hovers above a post then alights to fish
a silver shadow comes in sight, he watches
then in a blur he dives and catches a fish
Now all that's left behind are glistening ripples
spreading out far and wide in perfect cylindrical rings
watching them fade away as the water stills
becoming once more a mirror reflecting the azure skies
A massive pile of logs with scarlet toadstools scattered
the croak of a spotted frog as he takes a dive
yellow hammer is drilling away in the canopy
where verdant greens mix with red cedar leaves
The wonders awaiting at each step quite take my breath
a sly red fox disappearing through the emerald grasses
a roar and a crash of antlers as the fallow deer stags fight
their white spots shining as they spar back and forth
All this and birds singing with the pure joy of living
the rustles that abound all around me as I listen
the glorious golds, reds and browns surround me
as I stand in a clearing drinking all the beauty in
Written 08/12/2013
contest Autumns Breath
Restless ghostly night,
whilst full moon hangs bright
drench in yellow with fright.
The hour of All Hallow's Eve
has chimed like a venal thieve;
all in wild frenzy they leave.
A shrill whistle in the distance
behest by spirits persistence
and wicked witches on broom assistance.
Those brave to be out in the dark,
stumble in their steps they mark,
as lanterns in trembling fingers spark.
Twilight soul into burnt cinder
shadows and ghost linger,
as cowering frightened dogs whimper.
Luminously yellow eyes blaze,
of the alluring vampire's gaze,
in the dark a hypnotic maze.
Goblins, gnomes, and black fairies
dance around blood-red berries;
a chilling ritual mummeries.
Standing in the moonlight there,
a few feet from toadstools; a pixie pair,
merry tricksters everywhere.
Waxen daylight creeps across the sky,
arise a yawn from sneaking dawn nigh.
Gone, in a wink All Hallow's Eve cunning and sly
10/25/2021
Children Story
when scorpions crawling on the boiling sands
dance the dance of death with tail culled up
the gaudy toadstools grow in the dark and dampest spot
in the wasteland, and as day progresses the never-ending
merciless killing under the very same scorching sun that hangs high above
the wasteland drags on and on in the urban, areas where people carry out
the activities of daily routine to sustain ordinary lives.
on the street and alley the children’s corpses
though laying here and there
no one knows how to stop the deafening roar
that comes from the blasting bombs and the report of the guns
that take more innocent lives away from loved ones which do not allow
even a moment to the bereaved one to mourn with own accord, and when
the tears of a woman in black burqa slaps forehead and bangs her breast with palms and cries, her maternal affection benumbed and become stone as her tears coagulate and harden.
a small rough and simple wooden coffin goes
carried by the stern looking bearded men followed by not requiem
but the shout of the angry crowd brandishing empty fists that won’t do
anything in air the agony of the incompetent father who incapable of
keeping his dearest daughter’s life
nor able to provide a decent funeral and burial services
for the child’s last journey overlays the new-soil-covered little grave
as many layers of sigh after sighs.
when the tanks and armored vehicles sweep through the street
where many, many of those horrible stories rolling and flying
all over like autumn leaves, the soldiers with dust covered
combat boots dash into the street with unceasing gun shots
that hit the shadows because it moves, only because it breathes,
and therefore must be slaughtered. the fireballs hotter than boiling
sun shoot in the air with loud report on the other side of the street.
and between those ear-piercing roars
another angry wave marches on the street
carrying a small coffin, and in this chaos
eventide with no tomorrow dyes the corner of sky
above the faceless battlefield with the red of blood.
Some people like keeping up with the Joneses
I do not know any Joneses who could keep up with me
So I have elected to keep up with the gnomes
How absurdly difficult could that task be?
I like wearing leggings, and I have no height
I love gardens, faerie houses,and toadstools you see.
I am pretty confident I can keep up until FFFT!
They begin rapidly disappearing in front of me.
I scrunch up my face, and concentrate ridiculously hard.
What about keeping up with faeries? Fairies begin to giggle.
I have not giggled in a long long time, annoying my own petard.
How about a dragon fly, I think as I begin my wing-trying-out wiggle.
Replication, O photon.
Atmosphere. Molecules.
Phase, like seasons. Here, then gone.
Tools, tremors, toadstools.
Occipital ridge, troll, bridge.
Billy goat, thy horn.
Pestilence, thy name is midge.
Freighter, fain, forlorn.
Lightning bolt, fruit of the gods.
Eat one and become.
Mycelial, goldenrod?
Mushroom, just stay mum.
Sign of salvation, sea-bass?
Shark, set eyes on same.
Liquid legend, O my lass?
Sure. I'm glad you came.
Tympani, crush. Firefly, flee.
Knock thrice, then flit, thrush.
O behemoth, swim thy sea?
Death, you've had a brush.
Enormous or gigantic?
Titan, which to choose?
Oil on surface, stiff or slick?
Flickering fate, fast fuse.
Race, a trace of turkey wild.
In the corn, my child.
Charnel house floor, stains a-tiled?
Ululate, red riled.
Racket, informed packet?
Data, grow in trees.
Weather, wail. Jail, jacket.
Pain, poisonous to please.
Laid out in hot sunshine I drift away
starting to day dream of magical places
I run through sun dappled forests
and come across some unicorns.
They greet me like an old friend
one offers me a ride delighted
I scramble onto her back gripping tight
as she flies up so close to the sun.
then swooping down to mountain tops
nearly unseating me I gasp grab her mane
as she plunges down to meadows full of flowers
awaiting us with bubbling stream flowing through.
She halts and steps in the water up to her back
she plunges and swims I notice fish and frogs
as we head upstream coming to a clearing
She stops and clambers out onto a beach.
Not just any beach it is full of elves and fairies
giant toadstools and atop of them sits a dwarf
smoking from a hubbly bubbly long stemmed pipe
I stare around in wonder as old oaks glide past us.
Each greeting us by name and biding us welcome
I could not member being here before, scratching
my head I went with the flow as if I was in Rome
when a crow flew by cawing as it carried on its way.
I startled awake realising I was still here where I started
it had all been a dream but it felt so real maybe I was there
so many mysteries and hidden things to life when one dreams
it makes me wonder and ponder if Dreams are just dreams?
Toadstools shouldn’t tower so;
A blade of grass be taller than I.
One raindrop shouldn’t get me soaked;
A ladybug look me in the eye.
Something seems amiss, I say;
This really is an awful surprise -
Either I’ve woken in a land of giants,
Or shrunken one hundredth of my size.
If it were a dream I’m in,
I wouldn’t have felt that pinch.
It seems to me a mile today,
Yesterday was just an inch.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have yelled at Mom
And screamed I wanted to live someplace else;
Perhaps that tantrum I threw last night
Shrunk me down smaller than an elf.
What can I do to regain my size
And have normalcy return?
I would say, I am sorry and hug my Mom
If my family I could rejoin.
Being bad really makes you small;
In many more ways than just one.
I have learned this lesson for myself -
Behaving is much more fun.