Long Whirl Poems
Long Whirl Poems. Below are the most popular long Whirl by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whirl poems by poem length and keyword.
Today...
Let me swirl, let me sway,
I want to whirl my cares away.
Stand by...
Let me float, let me fly,
I want to forget how to cry.
Don't stare...
Let me dance, let me dare,
I want to romance with the air.
Joyride...
Let me groove, let me glide,
I want to move that samba stride.
Soft blush...
Let me reel, let me rush,
I want to feel your gentle brush.
Stroke me...
Let me spin a trot spree,
I want to grin through this boogie.
Alive...
Let me jig, let me jive,
I'm on a whirligig waltz drive.
09.24.17
Based on the painting "She dances in beauty"
by Anna Razumovskaya
My laptop is a very pretty shade of purple,
I open her top gently and dust off her keys;
Calmly I press the start key and wait patiently,
And I wait patiently composed in myself and full of hope.
I am humming when at last I am connected,
The internet is before me and I am on my way;
And then it happens, "internet connection lost,"
Oh gosh and darn it I start the whole process once again.
And again and again I try but not quite so calmly,
Okay finally here we go I am on my way to creating;
On my way to poetry soup and to writing a poem,
And then it happens, "poetry soup is not responding."
I am ready to throw the computer out the window,
I scream at my laptop, "your usefulness is used up;"
Off I go to have a tea and to smooth my feathers,
Kitty has been watching me and decides to give it a whirl.
_______________________
March 22, 2015
Poetry/Light Poetry/Patience
Copyright Protected, ID 03-656-205-22
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance LaFrance
Written for the Standard contest, Computer Poem Contest
sponsor, Carol Eastman, Judged 2015
First Place
Featured poem week of 05/05/2019.
"Babies are bits of stardust
blown from the hand of God."
Quote by _ Larry Barrette
Into our family, an angel has been born,
and I take pause from my sad deep mournful forlorn;
even, now baby makes sounds so musically,
an angel has been born, into our family.
And I love this sweet girl, she makes us all happy,
even, when taking a sleeping beauty nappy;
and one day our angel girl will swirl, whirl and twirl,
she makes us all happy, and I love this sweet girl.
Such a well dressed baby- we aunts do this and that,
she loves stories, music and playing pitty-pat;
oh, will she be a princess or tomboy maybe,
we aunts do this and that- such a well dressed baby.
It took just one little soul, to mend the broken,
with the birth of this baby girl God has spoken;
and I can imagine on green paths we will stroll,
to mend the broken, it took just one little soul.
__________________
September 05, 2022
Poetry/Swap Quatrain/Baby Angel Born
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1485-512-05
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Swap Quatrain
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 10/20/2022
a runaway truck
barrels through an intersection
nobody is there to be astonished
apprehension hovers over uncertainty
a cat hugs a dead bird to its breast
the image curls inward
like a snail shell -
closed eyes are still looking
the image still curling
a condor perches on a mailbox.
this cannot be
not here
but elsewhere it happens
everyday
she takes a selfie
behind her
people fall out of a plane
her grin gawps
grows wider
cameras whirl
optics need say nothing -
when the mouths open
onlookers are captured
in echoing caves
One by one leaves drop, curl, and mix on the spot.
When left unattended, their bodies slowly rot.
Nature recycles them for purposes man forgot.
Ashes get poked and release wood smoke that furls,
twists and glides aloft to reside. Residual wisps curl,
stings eyes, produces tears and evokes emotions that whirl.
Crickets stridulate seeking mates then sneak inside to hibernate.
Night football games yield cheers, groans and rivalry debates.
Hot cider, sipped and swallowed helps the blood to circulate.
Hayrides get cozy while fingers and toes, turn numb.
Pumpkins get carved, cooked, smashed and become;
pies, cupcakes, cookies and bread, leaving trails of crumbs.
One morning early still and bright before the sun came into sight,
a clean white sheet of frost glazed the remains of night.
Folks start this day viewing an awesome autumn delight.
Miss Jill was such a busy girl;
loved jumping rope that she would twirl.
One day her foot caught in the whirl
and down she went with a quick swirl.
But one, two three- she got up fast!
Along came Jack, who quickly asked;
“Since you're okay, let's try at last
to gather water like the past!”
“Oh no,” said Jill- “that hill's too steep;
and now this rope just tripped my leap!
Tomorrow- some new fun I'll reap
and walk the meadow with the sheep!”
And so, Jill had the greatest time;
no rope to jump or hill to climb.
The church bells played a lovely chime
while she held tiny lambs- sublime!
When the heart beats in pain
The poet comes to life
His words seem to rain
As tears flows sharp as knife
The raging storm complements his strife
Destroys all the limit
The poet with pain survive
Only then true pearls of poetry shine
The night with torments gain
The light shivers of afterlife
The poet with images strain
Troubles from all over arrive
Simple wishes a fire revive
The stars become weak and timid
Looks for a reason to be alive
Only then true pearls of poetry shine
The poet and his enchanting pain
Takes a sudden dive
When thoughts whirl, swirl and rain
And on the pages revive
His ideas for coherence strive
Emblazon the sky vivid
With powerful and forging drive
Only then true pearls of poetry shine
Poet, you must not deprive
This world so helpless and livid
Must let your rhymes thrive
Only then true pearls of poetry shine
Thrice better is the cowardly creeper
Than a passionless lion laxing tame,
Who toothless lies as lesser beasts
Plot and paw jungle's sleeker game.
More inspiring than any genius wit
Is the dim-footed guesser ever out
For new surprises both foul and fit,
Taxing dumb Luck's diamond pout.
Let swifter-going synanthrope felines
Feast on cowering polar bears' meal;
And such fast ever-trying wing upset
Any slow-flying eagle's choicest deal.
Of what merit are manes and paws
That hang and whirl lame in the air;
Or agile-dashing limbs and fit claws,
If neither thus proportionately dare?
Uncork average vineity's cellars now,
I'll pardon their middler-vintner's skill;
To mañana-enchanted wantwits vow
Crispier sips that patient palate thrill.
Ballroom Delights
We are swept in the whirl of gowns twirling around
In the glow of glass lights shining down from each wall
While I dance with his hand holding mine, the sweet sound
Of the music brings joy to my heart held in thrall.
My silk gown flows with glistening colors of blue
And I see other ladies in pink and soft white
While the lights from above accent folds that imbue
Like soft colors of petals in moonglow at night.
As we dance on the floor that reflects like a pond
The soft shadows of couples revolve like pale ghosts
Every sway and each turn move with grace to respond
To the magical music enjoyed by their hosts.
Up above I now see the most brilliant of glows—
Chandelier, like a burst of bright sun rays, hangs high
On the ceiling above, arced, with paintings, it shows
Luminescence that captures my heart with a sigh.
The tall mirrors reflect this most glorious scene
As I dance with my lover in graceful wide turns
The charm doubles the beauty of all that is seen…
While the music plays on…I get lost in return
To my feelings of why I am here this sweet night
As his arm holds me tighter, to closer embrace
My heart beats with the magic of love’s warm delight…
We are swept in the whirl of our hearts interlaced.
Sandra M. Haight
Ballroom Delights
~1st Place~
Contest: Ballroom Delights
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Judged: 12/16/2014
~1st Place~
Contest: One Of Your Best
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
Judged: 01/07/2016
Listening
As grooves whirl
A familiar track,
Once familiar refrains
Recall the vintage
Of innocence.
Scratched
In almost forgotten places,
The sound is altered ...
Yet I hear a cadence of the time
When sweet flowers grew
In an English country garden.
Inspired by a folk song I listened to while growing up during the 1960s : English Country Garden as sung by Jimmie Rodgers (can be found on YouTube).
From the song:
How many kinds of sweet flowers grow
In an English country garden?
I'll tell you now of some that I know
And those I miss you'll surely pardon:
Daffodils, heart's ease and flox
Meadowsweet and lady smocks
Gentain, lupine and tall hollihocks
Roses, foxgloves, snowdrops, forget-me-nots
In an English country garden