Long Toes Poems
Long Toes Poems. Below are the most popular long Toes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Toes poems by poem length and keyword.
Every single day, I see women with open shoes,
And I can’t help but wonder what it is I see.
It’s not the sandals I like or the styles they use.
There must be more to it…or maybe it’s just me.
It’s not a game I play or a fetish, I swear.
I just have an attraction with fee that I can’t explain.
It starts with the ankles, then goes down from there
To the arch of the foot, but the toes drive me insane.
I cook meat all night behind a very hot grill,
So it’s nice to step outside and take a break.
There are so many toes and I get such a thrill.
I’m not sure how much more I can take.
I don’t know why I have such a thing for feet.
Maybe it started when I was very young.
All I know is that it’s something so sweet
To be in this sea of beautiful toes I’m among.
Aardvarks often
Bubble vicariously
Curiously and hilariously
Dynamite laughter pervades their skins,
Evenly and rather
Frequently
Giggling in their morning tea
High-fiving
Inquisitive
Jittery, jumpy
Kangaroo cousins,
Laughing maniacally
Magically melodious,
Needling opossums undeniably
Opportunities abound
Promoting
Quaking, quirky
Rambunctious,
Scrumptious,
Tittering and twirling on tippy toes,
Understandably fun-loving,
Vicariously and victoriously
With winsome wit
‘X-temperaneous enthusiasm emits,
Yelling as they tease your chasm
Zebras glad they live far away in Africa.
Three kids to a bed, two beds to a room, three
rooms crowded with flannel long johns and wool
socks. If I was lucky enough maybe they had only
been worn by two or three brothers before me.
No holes was never a guarantee.
Mama had us tucked in tight under hand stitched
quilts made from squares of worn-out clothes that
was deemed no good for anything else. So heavy
that it was impossible to sleep on my back.
Or it would make my toes hurt all night.
Morning would come whenever nature demanded. As
soon as it was light enough to see the bowl of ice
capped water, I could splash a few drops on my face.
On some of those more courageous mornings,
a few of the more important parts.
The sides of the pot-bellied stove could turn as
red as the devil’s hood if the stoker was too generous
with the logs, or go out altogether if it was neglected
for too long. Deep scratches gouged into the floor from
constantly shifting chairs.
A good autumn from the garden, creek banks, and the
woods beyond provided enough to ease the
grumbling of winter stomachs. The occupants of
the chicken coop did their job diligently. As did
the former occupants of the pig pen and the pasture.
By January deep paths cut through waist high snow
to the outhouse, smokehouse, chicken coop
and wood pile. Only three more months until the
grass can be seen again.
and in my dream- I find myself in a lush forest
dripping wet with life, steamy and sultry
I am one with nature and with the aqua drifting water
oh, the soft moss and the wet lime ferns
I float in tranquility and beneath me water reeds grow, swaying
so many hues of greens and colors dwelling in harmony
juniper, sage, olive, blue, pine
emerald green of a little frog and dark brown of a crocodile
small yellow little fish kiss my toes
a lovely fushia flower, an orange snake slithers
a fluttering purple butterfly, a blue bird sings sweetly
green twining vines, meandering in the dark foliage
my sage eyes, whisper come fall into the lush depths with me
I will take you to a world full of utter peace
where all beautiful shades of nature, mingle and entwine
_____________________________
May 18, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/"shades of nature"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-792-122-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, The Sun Is Out
sponsor, CT
Second Place
Wispy white snowflakes they softly drift down
Icing the earth with a wintery gown
Natural beauty where children can play
Toboggans are out on a snowy day
Everywhere glistens in bright sparkling white
Rosy faced children glow with sheer delight
Biting winds blow so we dress snug and warm
Enormous snowmen begin to take form
Awesome snow angels imprinted in snow
Unique snowflakes dance, they swirl fast and slow
Temperatures plunge; I can’t feel my toes
Yikes! I look like Rudolph; see my red nose!
10 syllables per line
Winter acrostic contest
Sponsored by Janice Canerdy
09 09 17
It serves me well to remember my early years
when home was a plot of land, my family's farm.
Toes in the mud, hands planting in the dirt.
Humble beginnings taught me not to want more
than I thought I would need.
A middle child, the quiet one
having fun with siblings when work was done.
Parents often found me reading a book,
or writing stories of places I wanted to travel.
I had ambitions to be a teacher... short-lived
when in college my world turned new pages.
I rearranged my beliefs when that life
came into view, but my values stayed intact.
Wife and mother took precedence
but I still danced to the music in my mind
and lyrical words waltzed from my hand to pages.
Poetry written with enough ink to fill tomes
of dreams, hopes, vignettes of where I'd sailed,
where I was at those moments in time,
and fantasies of where I hoped to be.
But my boat capsized and, on the riverbank,
I found myself taking stock of who I had become.
I make no excuses for getting lost a time or ten
in daydreams as easily as I smile with delight
watching a butterfly emerge from its chrysalis.
I wake at the edge of dawn to hear birds sing
their trills when the world lies hushed and still.
Often, I drop the reins of my imagination
and allow it to run free and wild, as I did as a child,
barefoot in the summer rain, only now,
I do it as 'Nana,' with three grandchildren.
I've never been able to shield my heart.
Emotions insist on clinging onto my sleeves,
even the part of me that grieves and broods.
Faith gets me through those times when I fall
into doldrums of a gloomy abyss that threatens
to keep me buried inside the depth of its walls.
Ecclesiastes says to everything there is a season.
Autumn will always be my favorite time of year,
although I wonder why for it's also
nature's revelation to fulfill the destiny of trees,
losing their leaves after such a short time.
Green to crimson, withered, they fall aground.
I've painted skies of blue and eyes of gray...
the somber color of his when it was time to walk away.
A few pieces of my puzzle are still scattered about
but tomorrow is another day
and I'm in no hurry to find them.
Magic occurs by the moment
Modern eyes dismiss
The world, we think we own it
So oblivious
Zombies, we roam this land
Searching for a bite
Everything tastes bland
We have selective sight
A baby, born today
10 fingers and toes
Though the green can't stay
We already know
How do we know, you ask
Expectation, my dear
Fairly simple to grasp
If you have two ears that hear
We exist on a giant ball
Gravity is our glue
Logically we should fall
But God already knew
Aren't you relieved
That we don't go flying
A gift we received
Without any trying
Isn't it neat
The way seasons change
Right beneath our feet
This ball will rearrange
We call them by name
Winter, spring, summer, Autumn
The subject becomes lame
Teachers already taught'em
Imagine yourself foreign
To this land and all above
A gentle blow of wind
And you would fall in love
Magician's would be your neighbors
For they can walk upside down
Recite a paragraph for favors
Taste, smell, feel, see and sound
Whether we realize it or not
We live in a world of magic
But we accept what we've been taught
And that's what's so very tragic
Swan Lake
Toes ache
Can't sleep
Count sheep
Eat slow
Don't throw
Won race
First place
Do crime
Serve time
Drink gin
Room spin
Keep fit
Don't sit
Up late
Bed waits
Cold spell
Wrap well
Don't smoke
You'll choke
Don't bore
They'll snore
Drink wine
Cloud nine
Black ice
Think twice
Good wife
No strife
Aim high
Touch sky
First kiss
Don't miss
Dry plains
Need rains
Red rose
Pleased nose
Beach girl
Heads twirl
First night
Stage fright
Written 2nd July 2020
For Strand completely new (4) poetry contest.
Sponsored By Brian Strand.
shall i wait for his plane to land?
— or meet him midair in pillowy-clouds,
clear the aisles meant for two,
order the finest dinner a steward can zoom,
prepare to feast on fingers and toes,
earlobes and sweet bubblegum lips.
shall i wait for the hail from the air?
— or fly my own airlines to climb aboard
certainly we don’t need two seats, only one
and that one is blushing from all of this touching.
shall I vigorously fly like a drone?
— spying out my love in from Japan
shall he unwrap an early present
i’m wearing red and green ribbons
...he’s wearing none.
~ certainly two stars search the horizon
~ climaxing at the speed of light’s dreams
air pressure certainly entertaining
the clash of thunder and lightning
a show of stupendous energy
for three weeks has weakened my pulse
and my knees.
I hightail to meet my love
in the air, so close and yet
i’ll certainly have to wait ‘til he lands
so he can take me back to the heavens.
12/21/2018
Pitter patters foisted wetness on the roofs,
A cat meows noisily to the rain spoofs,
her sweet noise rhythmed the dog's delicious woofs,
The treasure they sang into ears is the proof,
They both hopped like a radiant horse on hoof.
Mice run around to show they enjoyed their shows,
one, bold enough, even danced on my toes.
Their song was enriched by some noisy frogs' croaks,
that pierced the beats proving it not a hoax.
Some cocks occasionally chorused with crows.
Raindrops beat drums to make the ears more pleasing,
Thunders deafened the flow with their fast sneezing.
That made me to hum sweetness to their nice sound,
Now on my feet, my joy danced round and round,
Just then, the mice joined with their sweet soft wheezing,
Suddenly, the sky then stopped its pretty cries,
Maybe, the song that stopped the rain was by spies.
Sadness chased happiness far into the dark,
All was silent except the dog's angry barks,
Not even the stars could twinkle in the skies.