Long Toddies Poems
Long Toddies Poems. Below are the most popular long Toddies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Toddies poems by poem length and keyword.
two good longtime bosom buddies
puerile teasing games they play
they're inseparable toddies
they're different from night and day
puerile teasing games they play
ooh, ooh, eee, eee, aah, aah
they're different from night and day
arf, arf , dog object to its tah...
ooh, ooh, eee, eee, aah, aah
high-speed monkey pulls his friends tail
arf, arf , dog object to its tah…
feuds erupt, and calm still prevail
high-speed monkey pulls his friends tail
they're inseparable toddies
feuds erupt, and calm still prevail
two good longtime bosom buddies
5/6/2020
fun musing, no one has used the photo 3 for the contest
"Earthquake in a Tea Cup"
the earthquake
rocked through
a pink haze
soft and powdered
scent of lit smoke
flaming fires
hot oven baked
green apples
ripe skin sizzled
and popped
ice cool cinnamon crisp
lemon peeled martinis
black russians and they're
ripped unfriendly cousins
Long Island Iced teas and
Asian Pear Chit-Cha toddies
osmanthus oolong trading
asset smiles flying under
the Roger Ramjet radar
exploded rapturously
candied petals floating
hearts marachinoed
stevia sweetened cherries
skewered and buttered up
mercilessly on the q.t.
roses burnt apricots
she arrived shimmering
in the clouds
a seduction
ruffling feathers
in their
crème de la crème
tea cups shaking
their quiet worlds up
dominoes lined straight laced,
drugged and shot
they all thought
it was the second
coming
the world
was her stage
the fall out
was atomic
their shadows
scattered
nuclear imprints
incalculable,
the numbers
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
In April of nineteen twelve, a ship set sail so grand,
A tale of wealth and power, a journey well-planned.
Warnings were ignored, the ship sped through the night,
Men on duty sleeping, Californian unaware of Titanic's plight.
Steel and iron rivets, a mix of strength and flaw,
A lie repeated often enough will often escape the law
A plan, some say, to silence the wealthy few,
Who opposed the central bank, a theory that grew.
The Titan's tale foretold, in fiction's eerie rhyme,
A ship destined, too grand, lost in a moment of time.
Could poems and prophecies have seen the fate so grim?
Or was it human error, a tale of pride and sin?
The wealthy men aboard, with power in their hands,
Opposed the Federal Reserve, in its in utero lands.
Illuminati whispers, secrets in the night,
A game of power, hidden in plain sight.
The Samson seen the rockets, but rum toddies dense the sense
And the cargo bay was full of seals and will illegally be fenced
Some men etched, unsinkable, defied the hand of God,
But met its fate in icy waters, a tale forever odd.
It's 41 degrees north and 49 degrees west
This is where Titanic is laid to rest
A century has passed, the theories still remain,
A story of the Titanic, in history's refrain.
It was a frozen winter made for cardigans and hot toddies
she my mother, my first teacher, was feeling sad
about what she couldn't say for she could not recall
I sat by her bedside and flipped through the old album
and while she nodded she silently, cried ...
" Tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose
And grief yet flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows"
"Was he my husband?" she asked me with a vacant stare
I quietly gave my consent then placed a hand on her frail shoulder
"can we go get some ice cream?" she asked
a grown child with a smile that I could not efface
The sun went down and as we sat in the cafeteria round
we ate vanilla ice cream from plastic cups
and watched the sun go down on the wintry hedge
"Vanilla kisses for my Princess, Rosy ones for my Lady"
That was what dad used to say to us each day
but tonight, she couldn't recall a thing that he would say.
May 7, 2021
As the autumn and winter seasons inexorably unfold,
You can bet that I'm destined to catch my annual cold!
I've tried every remedy from the local pharmacist's shelf,
Includin' syrups, lozenges, even toddies to cure myself!
My nothe ith all thopped up an' I can hardly respthire.
My lungths are congesthed - they feel like they're afire!
My eyeths are red an' thwollen an' I can barely thee.
Every bone an' muthel in my body acheths - woe ith me!
I called the docther's offith for relief only to be told,
That he wath home in bed nursin' a nasthy cold!
He would've told me to take an athpirin an' go to bed.
I reckon I'll juth have to thuffer through it here inthead!
'Cold' ith a mithnomer for thith afflicthion anyhow.
"Why ith it called a cold?", I muse, throkin' my fevered brow,
An' quaffin' noxthious concothions to relieve my burnin' throat.
The meds can't quash my mithery, as the pharmathy ads promote!
Man hath thent rockeths soarin' through the boundleth univerth,
So why can't they find a cure for thith worrithome curth!
There musth be some college kid who thomeday will find a cure.
She'd be more than eligible for Nobel estheem I'm quite sure!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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