Long Tonight Poems
Long Tonight Poems. Below are the most popular long Tonight by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tonight poems by poem length and keyword.
Your the only thing thats on my mind tonight
and where in the world you may be
just thinking about the day you said good-bye
on that sad December day you left me
It was a cold day in December
and i was as sad as i could be
I watched my heart break as you walked away
on that sad December day
they say if you love something then let it go
and if it comes back that's how you know
but if it doesn't then at least you know
you had to hold through to grow
well baby i'm down on my knees and i'm begging
praying to the lord which art in heaven
Oh please remember
this december
Your all I want your all I need
I'm praying to the lord to help me please
oh please remember this december
SEND MY BABY HOME
Wake my little wood nymph, so I can cradle you in my arms.
Your innocence enthralls me. I'm enamored by your charms.
On this carpeted floor, lush with forest moss and wildflowers,
I'm tempted to make love to you, here in this secluded bower.
Your skin of porcelain beauty would make jealous any maiden.
Riches found in you, more valuable than chests with gold laden.
Luring lips stained as if by the tasting of rosy mulberry wine,
I long to lay down beside you and intimately make you mine.
Sleep easy, my little virgin, until the time of your own choosing.
Your virtue safe with me for tonight although we're both losing.
What wonders await when I glimpse the passion in your eyes.
Tis then you'll know my love for you in a look of no feign disguise.
I'll carry you to your home and accept this tender moment of loss
until the day we shall return to lie together upon this bed of moss.
The rhapsody of duskfall’s sky pulses in
irregular beats tonight ,as I gaze at dotted stars
fleeting beyond this moment absent from,
nonchalant about a life of earthly radiance…
and summer’s flame caresses my body
tingling clinging invading a certain quietus
where my very soul weeps for your touch
ghostly or vaporous , as I fold the last pile
of clothes from the attic: the musk scent
wafts around me, like a glide of a river
fathomless like single immersed dive
into an unknown eternity where your passing
rakes my seasons-- hour after hour.
3/21/2018
Broken Wings’ Contest: Five Words, Please
Oh Holy Night, all is calm, all is quiet, except for the tv playing to itself, if to keep a lonesome resident company, if to take place of a friend who never came.
Oh Holy Night, thus quiet town of New York Mills Minnesota, these lovely people whom are Gods Children yet they are alone each and every day..
Once were young vibrant sons, daughters, husbands wives who gave of themselves in our society with a friendly smile, hug, handshake, worked amongst us earning a good days wage, now only to sit alone, their once friendly face, now showing their age.
Truly HE taught us to love, His gospel is peace, why then should vitality living be home to these lonely souls, where are our servants of GOD to bring a cup of coffee, a card game, a manly chat about serving our country?
Oh Holy Night, tonight a baby was born, a sweet baby who would live amongst us to love us, bring us HOPE, why can’t we sit and hold their hands, be CHRIST to them if only for one hour?
A sweet Baby Jesus taught us to love one another, His law is love, and HIS Gospel is PEACE.. we too will be in their shoes, yet we are not to be seen next to their bed, Jesus would be with them, we must be HIS hands, FEET, pray with your feet..
What Child Is This who looks upon these lonely souls who took care of us when we were sick, now only have tv to keep them company?
Oh Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining, it is the night of the saviors birth, until He appears, let us Shine His Light upon these Souls, let them Hear The Angels voices..
The sound of heavy jaws munching -
an angelic weeping,
the crack of delicate wing bones.
Earlier, a listless sky trailed shreds of fear
the goodly being dragged into red cave-mouths.
"My angelica are grounded tonight," he thought.
The mechanical grinding of molars continued.
My seraphim and cherubim, all the innocence
Of long forgiven souls are in peril.
A guttural cackling rises from backyards,
from asphalt parks, and vacant lots.
The gloriously burnished, armored archangel
stands among the trash cans, great sword
held brightly aloft.
"When dawn comes creeping
this insane demonic laughter will cease,
the downed souls will rise again,
minus a few fine bones.
The tears of the half-chewed will burn
all those that prey upon them.
The demented evil doers will suffer the hell
of the dawn’s gastric flux; let them choke upon
the toxicity of our holiness."
It is your style
It is your smile
It is the charisma
It is the aroma
The way you talk
The way you walk
The way you touch
The rainbow of my soul
Oh! I love you so much
You know very well that I am not a fool
I am a connoisseur who loves class
Intelligence, beauty, elegance, and style
You fit that profile and you passed
All the tests with a gentle smile.
You make me walk on the air
You cause me to denude, to bare
Everything out from the depth
Of my soul. To me, you are a myth
An alluring angel without wings
A genuine saint without halo and rings
I want to be with you to marry you tonight
I want to love you forever my love, that’s right
You are my sunshine on cloudy days
You are my moonlight when I am dazed
You are my compass, my beacon
You are my darling, my mignonne.
I love absolutely everything about you
You are my beer at night, my honeydew
When it is too hot to breathe, to relax
My red wine after dinner; your style rocks
You are it, the elixir, so to speak
You make me reach my peak
You are without a doubt my moon after dark
And my laser cane in the beautiful park
Of life. I love the way you talk to me
The way you touch me, the way you rock me.
You are my eternal inspiration
The woman of ideas and actions
You are the flowers of spring and summer
You are my honey, my pride and honor
Let me admire you, let me give you an infinite kiss
You are my sunshine, and of course, my eternal bliss
It is the freshness of your saliva
Which thrills and tickles my aorta
It is your style
It is your smile
The way you talk
The way you walk.
Copyright © August 1998, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
We had just finished reading Twas the Night Before Christmas
“Good Night children.” Their mom and I said.
“Wait a minute Dad…something’s not right. We live in Florida.” Our eldest son said.
“It’s too warm down here for the reindeer.” (Our second son said sounding defeated). “How does Santa deliver the presents if all his reindeer become overheated?”
“There’s no snow, it’s not cold and we have no chimney.” (This statement was made by our daughter) “How does Santa deliver presents to those of us who live on the water.”
I looked at my wife and smiled…my hands thoughtfully covering my mouth. “You mean we’ve never told you”, I said sitting down, “how Santa delivers presents to the south?"
“Santa’s reindeer love to fly…high across the winter sky they soar…but even they get tired so when Santa’s sleigh reaches our shore he gives his reindeer a break on the beach with some suntan lotion and a bale of hay…and hooks up nine Florida dolphins who take over guiding his sleigh.”
“Thank you for helping all my dolphin friends!” each year Santa happily exclaims.
Then one by one they smile and nod as Santa Claus calls them by name.
On Aqua, on Ocean, on Brooke, on Marina…Noelani are you ready for me?
On Splash, on Delta, on Raindrop…it's time to guide me out over the sea.”
“Over and under the sea we will swim…look smart, please stay in two rows…and when it gets too dark to see out there…on Coral…please light up your nose.
“You see Santa is very resourceful.” Dad said…”I hope you now understand…how he can deliver his presents on the water as easily as on the land.”
“Many children all over the world see Santa and his reindeer and instantly believe...but only the children in Florida see Santa and his dolphins on Christmas Eve.”
If you look out your window tonight you might see…on the water…in the moon light arise...a sleigh pulled by nine dolphins, Santa in short sleeves with sunglasses covering eyes.
And if you're lucky you even might hear him exclaim as he and his dolphin drive out of sight.
Happy Christmas to all the children in Florida…
and to all the children in Florida…
a good night.
The Walk part 1
Tired of it all
The bottle empty did fall
On the third floor
I looked out
Skeptical
Of the distance
Fatal or just painful?
I have had enough pain
Looking out, it began
To rain
For my final walk
I took an umbrella
I was that kinda fella
Strolling down the avenues and streets
The bridge called Freedom nearing my weary feet
I walked up and halfway across
Looking at the darkness swirling in my head
The river I am sure would consume me dead
So I jumped
The Bridge part 2
Over to the side, as a car flashed by
Why that was close, close to die
As I stared down the murky river black
I decided not now
I will walk on back
On the avenue called Destiny
A robber jumped out
Your money or your life! He cried
I had left my wallet at home you see
Not thinking an identity would matter much to me
The robber seemed to disbelieve
As the gunshot rang out
I fell on top of my own irony
So I jumped
Walking Back Home part 3
Up
Brushed off my coat
He was a bad aim and was not about
Ran off scared into the city night
Even robbers, are born with fright
I was none the worse for the wear
Couldn’t wait to climb up those three floors of stairs
The sanctuary of my solitary lair
Death was just not in the cards tonight
Rum and the rabbit
Left to fill me with delight
My drunken stupor, I fell asleep in my chair
Until with a jolt, tumbled onto the cold hard floor
With drunken flair
Death was in the air
So I jumped
Waiting for him to come home in my sexy low cut short black dress
To tangle my fingers around his curly blond hair
Kiss those soft lips the flame of my desire
Start a fire we cannot put out
Tonight marks our one-year wedding anniversary living and loving in paradise
I've prepared a candlelight dinner for two
Persimmon and Pomegranate salad
Quail in rose petals sauce
Couscous, with sultanas and pistachio
Garnished the plates with rose buds to set the mood
With a glass of fruity Pinot Noir red wine to warm and intoxicate the night
For dessert a wonderful strawberries and blueberries vanilla cream pie
To play and tease letting lips meet and kiss starting a flame of desire
Served out on the veranda under the romantic soft glow of the entertaining moon light and
A million stars with soft music and sweet fragrance of lavender wisteria as it perfumes the garden
I patiently wait for him at the door
Take his things and bathe myself in his hug and kiss placing my head against his chest and whisper
Happy Anniversary
Touching my soul memories being made binding our love with strawberries and wine
10/15/2015
I don’t quite know why I like writing as much as I do
But if I don’t type up something daily I feel quite blue
What if’s parade around in my head when I am awake.
I get ideas at breakfast about sheep brushing a snake.
That’s silly says Trixie, my muse who is in charge of me.
She throws out sixteen ideas that take me to one knee.
We are besties, my muse and I, we write as if we are one.
The most important thing, we agree, is to have lots of fun.
The stuff that comes into my head cannot be from myself.
It is as if they land in my dendrite lane from a dragon-like elf.
Adjectives and adverbs and made up words give me joy.
My incessant writing is more fun than any other kind of hobby or toy.
Faeries living in mushroom houses come by on a regular basis.
Then a thought grabs our fancy about a bicycle donkey oasis.
Playing with words is hilarious to Trixie and me, especially rhymes.
We often stay up all night; tonight might be one of those times.