Long Trotter Poems
Long Trotter Poems. Below are the most popular long Trotter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trotter poems by poem length and keyword.
In the eyes of a cougar
she purrs like an old kitten
plays with young ones mittens
is of a bigger scale of a cat
loves the bone of young fat
her movements stealth
has good range of health
eyes a moving
for any oaks a grooving
she follows the trail
to a sweet colt's tail
hunkering down
without any sound
the scent rises to thirst
her insides near burst
she speeds on
before it's gone
the call of the wild
isn't so mild
she plays with her prey
hearing him neigh
that's a good sound
being unwound
to the highest pitch
filling her niche
the colt is small but big
she braces a swig
her eyes a water
at her new found trotter
echo's the cougar's fight
at the young'ins sight
back to her cave
for more rave
connie pachecho
1/30/17
She would be queen, oh if indeed she could
after all, she's been where others stood.
So in control of e-mail trolls
she believes herself far better in the know.
The queenly rule is not just a presentable display
as her silent king makes hanky panky in the hay.
She's stern and forceful, once secretary of state
keeping her close inner secrets on her plate.
A pantsuit-wearing globe-trotter
with a desired rule set on her blotter.
But be sure she can be over cautious
quite averse to taking risk for fear of losses.
Negotiate she did and will
but haven't we already taken the same bitter pill?
Too many historic clans
hold the path to freedom's stand
Just two hundred years have come
the dynasty and monarchy never seems undone
They return and take control again
and to the power throne ascend.
Where did he go?
The young man of height and charm,
with a pleasant mien and a love of women,
who would often give to him far than he deserved....
When was it he perished?
This young and careless man
who flew freely into a war zone,
to a city of grace under siege by evil,
where death was sudden, random, quiet--
if you heard the explosion,
then you knew you were whole....
Where did he go?
This dauntless globe trotter,
landing in one country with
only a few bucks, yet unworried:
he knew, just knew he'd find a job,
make friends, be all right....
Once in Tokyo he held a 100 yen coin
in his hand, all the money he had
in this vast, indifferent world, and smiled,
the way only youth can smile,
as old age is still an abstract,
a foreign land of little interest.
And so the old man ate the young man
as the old long have devoured youth
since life burst forth in an empty world.
In truth though, it was only my old body
that subsumed the godlike one that once
carried my soul in this world of light and
darkness and but four dimensions....
Now the mirror shows me an old man
but it's a trick! I am sure it is, for
I know the young man is hiding within--
he, me, I am twenty-four,
only 24 years old and I do not ever age,
not since, well, I was twenty-four....
You can laugh, I don't care,
for I am young and will always be young,
in this life, and I guess
in the next one too....
3/4/18
I’m upset with smug Peter Pig
Who’d promised we could dance a jig
But spies my bent trotter
Gets nasty - the rotter
I call him an ignorant prig!
I’ve got a disability
But nothing will ever stop me
I’m a feisty young sow
So I'll never kowtow
Swing dancing makes me so happy
How quickly I'd learned how to dance -
Six lessons from my cousin Lance
When I dance Lindy Hop
I just don’t want to stop
My dancing may lead to romance
Young Percy took me by the hand
Well trotter; but you’ll understand
When we danced the pig jive
He made me feel alive
We’re dating now, life is just grand!
8,8,6,6,8 checked with how any syllables
Tall Tales 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jeff Kyser
03/13/22
Old Caleb Trotter had great plans for his town in Colorado.
For years he'd roamed the Rockies, finally finding his El Dorado!
He discovered glittering gold that would surely make him flush!
He founded Trotter's Gulch and soon there was a frenzied rush!
Cabins were built on plots that prospective miners selected.
Why, there was even a school and three churches were erected!
'Twas a bawdy place with the usual brawls and seedy saloons.
Soiled doves and gamblers invaded the town by platoons!
Time moved on and Caleb established a general store,
Figuring that the mining game wasn't for him anymore.
He made his fortune catering shovels, overalls and boots,
To hard-rock prospectors and other such galoots!
The population reached ten thousand and showed great potential.
It boasted a railroad station and other services essential.
It included three undertakers, five blacksmiths and ten preachers,
Four doctors, two newspapers and twelve well-respected teachers!
Alas, the pay dirt around Trotter's Gulch soon petered out.
The future of the town was left very much in doubt.
'Twas soon abandoned and another ghost town was born.
'Tis no longer on the map - it now lies desolate and forlorn!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
However you dress...compress these clever creatures…
More not less..whenever features...success..
To be Francis...what about Bacon…
Salty...naughty.. fatty flavour to savour..
Doing each dish a favour...a porky saviour…
Get a hard on from a lardon..
What’s much better than pancetta…
Peck at a fleshy fleck of top deck speck…
Unctuous umami tsunami of salami
Or sumptuous faux porky pastrami
Cheeky paprika glow of chorizo....
Stellar slivers of cast a spell mortadella..
Good black pud under your hood..
Nose to tail...ear to rear.. or is it snout to trotter…
Crackling…the beast stripped...skin ripped....snipped…
Flipped..dipped in oil.. every pleat..even the teet…
Shed so we can be fed...feast on this tasty treat..
Iberian beauties run riot...born on a diet of sun…
Acorn not lawn..torn and shorn…blushing crimson ****..
Like brawn... did spawn…locavore dawn..
Lovely legs adorn...above sherry kegs with wooden taps. …
Such handsome chaps…costs a King’s ransom..
Melt..fat flavour pelt...despite the prices..
Sublime svelte slices...loosen your belt..
Utterly buttery aficionado bravado..
Smuttery lah dee dah Lardo…
Richer than avocado sluttery...
Let's dine on divine porcine...
On reflection.. my selection…
Confection of pastry..piggy perfection...
Naked ingenuity in perpetuity...
The humble but venerable pork pie..
He sure enjoys
his life of Reilly;
lavishly living it up!
A globe-trotter.
A man-about-town.
He's a big hit
with the ladies,
and he doesn't mind
all the attention.
He's a big spender.
Did I mention
he's got style, too?
An unlit Cuban cigar
is always seen dangling
from his mouth.
He's not a smoker,
it's for the look.
He's fashion-savvy,
collecting Rolex watches,
ray ban sunglasses,
fedora hats,
and Versace suits.
He loves his cars
costly and fast;
a Porsche here,
a Lamborghini there
On weekends,
he sets sail
on his fancy yacht,
flying high
on his private jet.
He kills time
on the golf course
hitting the links
with millionaire friends,
throwing parties,
and showing off
his trophy wife
His escargot dinners
are always served
on high-end china.
He swigs champagne
from crystal.
Oh, what a life!
(Free Verse)
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE(20) any theme any form contest (Winner: 1st Place)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date written and posted: 01/06/2019
British-born Kenyan
adventureress globe-trotter
one of the first bush pilots
aviatrix authoress game-spotter
a woman before her time
through and through
who had simultaneous affairs
with Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester
(son of George V)
his older brother Edward, Prince of Wales
(later Edward VIII)
and Denys Finch Hatton too
the Kenya Derby a six-time winner
as an unrivaled thoroughbred racehorse trainer
whom my Dad at EAR&H well knew
as whenever she was able
it was he she would speak to
regarding rail transport of her stable
in 1936 she was the first female
to fly against the wind
let's set the record straight
to get it right
the Atlantic Ocean non-stop solo
from east to west with the night
Any foodie on the brink
Of getting moody thinks
Of the dear dairy panacea
Culinary kinks
Cultural links
Gourmet high jinx
Where the nods & the winks
Go to the food of the Gods
The sexy minx that really stinks
A noble global endeavour
Palette caged by a rare
Cave aged Gruyere
Arty farty dolcelatte party
Comte & cheddar
Smutty nutty double header
Camembert flair
Prouder of Gouda
Stilton to share
Or louder Parmesan fan
Even when it’s powder?
Aristocratic blue vein
More a Roquefort sort
Or St Augur holds court
Emphatic stench & stain
Tester of Red Leicester
What's better than Feta
Double Gloucester no imposter
Boursin or St Paulin on the roster
Snarl if there's no emmental
Pecorino the Ferrari Dino
Halloumi whispers consume me
New coup for Exmoor blue
Hail the tale of Wensleydale
Willy nilly grab a slab of Philly
Wealthier folks say Philadelphia
On the grounds sounds healthier
Right now is Ricotta somehow hotter
Or creamy dreamy Burrata smarter
Kowtow to Yarg from Celtic Kernow
Homage to fromage global trotter
Whatever floats your boat
High roller Gorgonzola
Maybe Goat gets your vote
Or those in the know
Gloat..chose sheep & Manchego
Young or well hung
Given time in the cellar
Yippee glee of smelly brie
But won’t sneer at Paneer
Mozzarella can be stellar
Even give a damn about Madame Edam
Stringy Raclette the best bet yet
Or the goo of Fondue more you
Can't sledge a wedge of Old Amsterdam
Primula still familiar
Wary of the not rated
Scary squirting lube
You squeeze with ease
Flirting fairy out of a tube
Ill fated.. hated pre grated
Diced into a nice cube
Drastic or fantastic vices
Chose those plastic elastic slices
Could plea for some Dairy Lea
Fell under that Babybel spell
Or pray tell a stash of well maybe
Laughing cow oui Le Vache qui Rit
I am no woebegone capon peon
for forks and knives to come upon,
no, I am a busy rooster father
in serious need of a duty roster
to ensure my hens and chicks prosper.
I cannot falter as enemy spotter,
I must sound my distinctive alarm
when a predator intends us harm.
I also work hard watching the yard
and any rooster with a cocky saunter
who nears with intentions to conquer
will soon leave as a featherless trotter!
My hens depend on my blend of clucks
to direct them where food is stuck.
As an indispensable rooster general
who keeps up with so much busy stuff,
I am unable to relax nearly enough.
If my nap roosting suffers too many gaps,
I may suffer a sentinel general collapse!
It would be incredible if now and again
I received some gratitude from the hens ….
... CayCay
July 16, 2019