Long Towel Poems

Long Towel Poems. Below are the most popular long Towel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Towel poems by poem length and keyword.


Sunday By the Sea

The day begins as the sun rises up
Like a big orange ball from the sea
It’s the bluest sky that has ever been seen
So pack up your bags, don’t forget the sun cream
For the seaside is calling us loud and clear
As we make our way down 
As we make our way here
                       
The children arrive with their buckets and spades
Their parents arrive with their Chardonnays
They carry a towel in case they get wet
A blanket to sit on, sun shades to protect
With lashings of sun cream and sun hats to wear
There is so much to carry, will they ever get there
                        
The children arrive and throw off their clothes
And run to the sea to paddle
They scream with delight 
When they get their toes wet
But they don’t feel the cold 
Well at least - not just yet

Their mums and dads lay out the food 
Upon the rug – laid on the sand
Calling their children they shout out loud
 “Will you come here and give us a hand?”

But their request falls upon deaf ears
As the children have fun in the water
Oh dear, will it all end up in tears
When the children don’t do what they oughta

As they swim and jump, making castles in the sands
Holding yummy pork pies in their sandy little hands
Drinking homemade lemonade 
With an ice cream to follow
They begin to feel hot
As they sick up the lot
On this Sunday by the sea 
They’ll feel better tomorrow

Time to go home now, so gather them up
Children all tired and grumpy
As parents sweet-talk them, whilst heading for home
The children are whining and whinging instead
So kiss them goodnight and send them to bed

At last there is peace 
The children are sleeping
The sea air has knocked them for six         
So now is the time 
For a nice glass of wine
With some olives and crunchy bread sticks
Reflecting upon their day at the beach
So lucky to be within easy reach
And able to visit and able to spend
Sunday by the sea - on this glorious weekend
 
Written in Summer 2018

Contest Strand Select T
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Ten Things That Bring a Smile

I made a pile, a list of things 
   The things that make me smile
       To narrow down these many things...it took me quite awhile
              But I realize now...I tried too hard...
                  If I had only looked around
                    There are little things that cross my day... 
                       That's where the smiles are found....

So if choosing ten, 
      well then....,
         ...perhaps I'll just begin...

Amazing me,... it seems to be...that joy can be found in simple things.....

                       The wave from a neighbor
                       over a white picket rail

                       The first sunny day, after a long winter's spell

                       A wood pecker's drum, or the skylark that sings

                       The berries I picked, overflowing the pail

                       Sweet soapy fragrance, and my grandson's smile
                       straight from his bath....all wrapped in a towel

                       Rays of yellow sunlight
                       shining on the kitchen floor

                       A sleeping calico cat...curled, snug by the door

                      Books or photographs...

                      A sweet memory to recall
                      of those who loved me best...when I was very small

Oh I could go on....I haven't mentioned them all

But perhaps you get the idea.....I smile....I smile.....I smile....!!!!

Premium Member Washing and Drying Up


Each night after the evening meal
there was never a discussion
as to who would wash the dishes
and who would do the drying up.
My mother was the washer,
my sister and I did the drying up.

Hot steam would rise from the sink 
before plates were plunged
deep in foam and scrubbed
with a brush - we would wait,
tea towel in hand to pounce
on the first plates to come out,
rinsed and white - 
dishes were easier to dry 
than heavy pots
and fiddly knives and forks.

It was a time for talk, for laughs
and sometimes snuffled back tears -
everyday life lived within the space 
of our touching elbows. 
I can still feel the tea towel 
in my hand wet and warm 
with those blessed memories.

Seventy years on, I bend down
and load the racks of a dishwasher
with soiled tableware from
the evening meal.  Its quiet whirr
will fill the winter silence
and play a soulless ditty when 
the washing and drying up
is done.

Silence is loud

Trying to work
The silence so loud
The slightest noise makes me mad
How did I let it get this bad?

Trying to speak, the words come out jumbled
My head a mess, even when I walk I stumble
Waiting for the doctor to call
If they give bad news I can’t take no more

I spent the week under a black cloud
The darkness takes over, the silence is loud
What is left to say remains unsaid
My soul is black, I feel so dead

Working only to keep my mind busy
Yet everything is hard, when its usually easy
It would be easy to throw in the towel and say no more
But if I did that, what was all the fighting for?

This isn’t the first time I’ve had to fight to survive,
Many a time I should of died
But what do you do when the hero needs saving?
My life is mine, it is what I make it

I just wish someone would call to say hello
Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so alone
In a room, love surrounding
Yet all my thoughts are so confounding

Life gets hard, I know that better than most
But how do you survive if you feel like a ghost?
My thoughts and feelings never seen
Wrap that all up resulted in ME HATING ME

These thoughts of mine describe a moment in time
It’s easier to write them in these rhymes
If anyone asks I’ll say I’m fine
Maybe reading this will show that’s a lie

As iv said before the silence is loud
I suppose being vulnerable is allowed
But when you’ve been told vulnerability makes you weak
Then another’s help you do not seek

I guess what I’m saying is help is what I need
I need to know that doesn’t make we weak
The darkness takes over, I know this feeling too well
All these thoughts of mine belong in hell……
© Gogster Dw  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Autumn Cleaning Cleanse Part Two

 AUTUMN CLEANING CLEANSE Part Two.
From the birth canal Abated forth out of my mother’s womb;
At this point I was dirty, though they wiped me off with water and a towel cloth;
Still I was unclean now;
Why?  Do I delay I callout His name? I draw near to Him with a sincere heart
Fill now of assured faith;
Now a man and drenched cleansed by His grace.
Mercy chose having my heart sprinkled clean from an evil conscience;
My body washed with pure;
Water I not draw near with the true heart and full of faith
This day I am cleansed
Autumn cleaning cleansed
I’ll cleansed by His pure waters
I am sanctified having been cleansed;
By the washing of waters with the Word Hallelujah Amen


Premium Member another day

mountains tumble
across the horizon 
twisting the last splinters 
of warmth
through heavy hanging 
gray soup 
listless lifeless 
endless sigh
dogs roll over
mown grass
clinking ice 
gentle laughter
fluttering chimes
cool breeze
sweet pungent earth 
enlivens lungs 
ocean cracks 
spills sheets
steams stainless barbeque 
sizzles fire pit 
douses tiki torches
lettuce, tomatoes, chips 
condiments 
march back inside
under the eaves
gulping rare air
until it freezes
behind the window
white pellets pelt
big red umbrella
guarding the feast
burgers melting cheese
buns toasting 
in formation 
lining the grate
storm sweeps over
collective gasp
tables towel off
wet dogs play
music  marries
dinner mirth
dancing flames
lick black velvet
Friday swells
into sleep-in Saturday 
while weaver weaves
another day
god

Premium Member Denial

Johnathan, Innsley, Marie, and Paul ---
Tom, Trish, Bea, and Jack:  all of them.
Black, white, asian; Jew, gentile, zen...
Sex, art, love, mores revolved,
entering ever-shallower circles of discovery.
Clear ice cubes clanked on glass;
religion, sex, quality imported Scotch
and Cuba made the rounds.
Conversation calmed, each with his own idea:
the ultimate word.
Fake furs, donned, drifted into oblivion.
Feeling alone, J. C. cleaned up.
From the dulled Johnson's Wax luster
on a genuine Duncan Phyfe table,
his distorted rumpled reflection
stared up at itself.
J. C. looked away, noticed four new white rings,
picked up a soiled Canon towel,
and wiped away three beads of water,
a few ashes, and himself.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Hope Never Dies

                       Hope Never Dies



          That second, you want to throw
          in the towel,
          God sends you sunshine and roses!
          You are thinking, "I just cannot go
          on doing this!"
          Hah, and there you are, keeping on, 
          with a swing and a miss.

          I don't understand any of this!
          Neither you, nor I do.
          But you know it is inherently true.
          Some will credit the trees and the
          sun.
          Believers credit God's only Son.

          Some light candles and do meditations.
          Others need just plain sleep or a 
          European vacation.
          But whatever your delight's song,
          Sing with no hesitation!
          That goodness and light are colorful, 
          and enchanting bubbling brooks forever 
          in-dwelling within you.


                         10/28/2019
                         3:00am PST

Premium Member The Destination

My eyes open to the feeling of the warm sunshine glow 
The bed feels so good that getting up will be slow
Peering through my bedroom window and seeing there isn’t any snow 
The news report was again a no show 
I go into the shower, watching the drain take away the soapy water flow 
Dry myself off with a rag towel combo 
Get dressed and put on my hand made boots from the people of Navajo 
I hop into my car, turn on the audio and begin to drive with gusto  
To where, I don’t know
Zipping, passing a few vehicles in a row
Telling myself, hope none of my tires blow
I see up ahead a stop n go 
Thinking of a hot cup of coffee or espresso 
Definitely feeling hungry for a gyro 
A pick up truck passes me by with loud music playing the classic Lionel Richie song, “Hello”
Triggering a memory from a long time ago
Snapping back into reality, looking at my rear view mirror, it is too late, I’ve passed it like a tornado
I quickly feel for my wallet, I forgot it! at home is my dough
Get back home soon without getting pulled over for no driver’s license to operate my pinto 
Home is destination incognito
Form: Rhyme

Where Did You Go

I looked for you today time and time again
But much to my dismay you weren't there then
And even when I got in and then tried to log on
Much to my chagrin your were once again gone

I tried to forget you knowing you will be okay
But deep down inside I knew I missed you today
And as I went my own way and tried leaving you behind
I really must say it was always you I was trying to find

And as the moments slowly passed and still not even a sign
How long will this last before I can write but even one more line
So I waited and waited and almost threw in the proverbial towel
My will now dissipated and one of the twins screaming foul 

Not that I feared for you or thought you weren't coming back
I just didn't know what to do and I know there in is where I lack
But you left so very quickly and never even said but a word
Thus I was so glad to see when it was from you that I heard
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace