Long Wold Poems
Long Wold Poems. Below are the most popular long Wold by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wold poems by poem length and keyword.
I wandered lonely as the moon
Across a field of drooping corn
Then all at once began to swoon;
My hope for romance was reborn.
Beside the stile, beneath the oak
Stood a rather handsome - looking bloke.
As sparkling as the stars that shine
His dazzling smile secured my heart
Two rows of pearly whites divine
And perfect lips - a work of art.
The sun's rays beamed across the wold
Coating his hair with streaks of gold.
All else beside him simply paled
For he outshone the very sun
With legs of jelly, I inhaled
And arms outstretched, began to run
Towards the oak, beside the stile
Matching his enticement with a smile.
Then there she was, a perfect dream
With rosy cheeks and golden hair
Running right past me (I could scream)
Into his arms, which left me there
With bright red face and mortified
Looking for a place where I could hide!
But oft, when in my bed I lie
Alone, and slowly counting sheep
His face appears and with a sigh
I blissfully fall off to sleep.
There in my dreams I win the race
And fall into his warm embrace.
24.12.20
William Wordworth - I wandered lonely as a cloud parody
Parody of a famous poem contest
Sponsor : L MILTON HANKINS N/A
Whenever I was sad…Mom or Dad would sit with me a while…
They’d ask, “What’s the matter son…you seem to have lost your smile?”
We’d talk about how the loss of my smile came to be…
about anything and everything that was upsetting me.
When we were finished I always felt better having bathed in their love and concern
but it wasn’t always easy for my smile to return.
When my parents’ noticed this…a thousand times they must have said to me,
“The beauty of a smile is in its simplicity.”
“We were created with an infinite amount of smiles.” They’d say
“Which means when one leaves our face…there is another smile underneath
eagerly waiting to take its place.”
“It may not be today…or tomorrow but over time,” they said, “you will learn…
usually when you least expect it…your smile will return.”
“Since we have an endless supply,” they’d continue, “Smiles are meant to be shared.”
and not knowing how long until my smile wold return…they’d give me one of theirs.
And I wold wear the gift of their smile…allowing it to shine…
until the day I realized….their smile…had blended into mine.?
*BE MY TRUE BROTHER/SISTER AND MY MVP*
The sunshine will set at its time
And the glittering life will fade in no time
The silver clouds will turn bloody gold
With the sun floating half on the horizon
My name would be on many lips known amd unknown
Maybe for good or the bad you never knew of
My good and the bad wold be told behind me
Body laid in six deep breathless
You will search my pictures
The best to crest the RIP
With emoji of broken hearts and tears
So I tell you today brethren
Post me today while I'm here
Make the call and send me that text
Celebrate me when I can view your posts
Come around when we can cheers to life
Call my name when I can answer
Beep my phone when I can call you back
Dine with me when I still know the taste of wines
Let's wine now that my liver hasn't failed
The whistle man isn't at the crossline
The deathpost is never stable
Long life isn't that long again
Death is the ultimate end
But the endline isn't calibrated
I won't be here tomorrow
Our memories is the evidence that we lived
Don't keep the best from me till I'm gone
Show me love today
Be my true brother and my sister
Be my muss and my MVP
Oloye Olufemi
?2023
When someone we love dies…somewhere in our heart a tidal wave of sadness grows….a wave whose ripples find their way to everyone we know.
Once engulfed by our wave…somewhere in the hearts of our friends and family their own tidal wave of sadness grows…a wave that ripples out to everyone they know.
Eventually, however, even the strongest tidal wave of sadness fades…or lands upon the beach…which means there will be people in this world to whom our sadness will not reach.
People who never knew us….therefore can’t offer much relief….
People somewhere across the world who will never share our grief.
I love how we were created with empathy…I only wish that it was stronger…
that it wold stretch across the world…that it would last a little longer.
Perhaps then when we hear of even one person dying in a war…or by some other type of madness
If the world’s empathy was stronger…we would all share each other’s sadness.
We wouldn’t need to be a family member or friend to feel the tidal wave of sadness when a person anywhere dies needlessly in war or at the hand of someone with a gun.
We’d all be engulfed by the same tidal wave of sadness and feel the same grief as everyone.
Which is why, in my prayers each night as I get down on bended knee
I say a prayer that every baby being born…will be born with stronger empathy.
Because it is my hope…if each new generation has a little more empathy than the generation before….it will lead to a world with a lot less killing…a lot less cruelty…
and, I pray, a lot less war.
All across the webbed wide esse Scott's wold
emerald green Trifolium
carpets harbor untold
burrows of tiny Leprechauns clover
(leaf) ways grant trifold
wishes if captured might
divulge pot of gold
at rainbow's end, and e'en mend
yar shoes, whence re: souled,
thence tread softly beneath subthreshold
of audibility, cuz unseen universe
hapts tubby microscopically rolled
with subterranean inhabited by Lilliputian
mischievous beings (about bajillion holed
up could fill the Taj Mahal) even donned with
heavy coat protecting them
(usually men) against cold
yet frolic with reel delight jiggling
with inborn instinct exhibit twofold
talent to dance with modesty
downplaying (while fiddling)
averse tubby extolled,
nonetheless, their popular
doth soar, and grievously scold
persistent myth anchored with toehold,
and thus do not indulge
pruriently with pixies considerably dulled,
since libido practically nonexistent told
me (under oath of
confidentiality), one Grunwald
trusted yours truly, the secrete
will not leak out,
nor spread like slime mold,
this descendant of Lemuel Gulliver
(ironically my height
only about threefold
larger than full grown imp possible
to see non elfish (pressed) lee ping auld
timers cavorting with
itty bitty whippersnappers,
averse to any outliers, whether hirsute or bald
an honest to goodness painstaking effort
initially stymied friendship proffered, a cold
reception eventually (while sharing diet of worms)
deep under verdantly festooned knolls of Eire land.
Yesterday I wrote a poem in admiration of Mr. Rogers.
This is basically what I said:
in a world filled with hate, prejudice and animosity
we should all try to be a little more like Fred.
But after listening to ‘I Will Always Love’ you on SiriusXM this morning …
another thought occurred to me…
It had to do with Dolly Parton’s kindness
her affirmations and her generosity.
I loved the way she lived her life…
loved her wit and her optimistic point of view
and I thought in a world with so much anger
we should try to be a little more like Dolly too.
I did not know Fred…or Dolly
but when each life came to an end…
like a lot of people across the globe
I felt I had just lost a good friend.
Two extremely decent people
who were caring, loving and kind…
Two people who will be remembered
for all the love they left behind.
I hope we never forget how they lived their lives
as models of peace, acceptance and harmony
Never forget what they meant to the world
their gifts…their legacies.
I wonder….if we all lived a little more like Dolly
what kind of world community would we be?
I imagine we would all be a little more caring and loving…
and I’m sure Mr. Rogers wold agree.
Bonanza of shamrocks will soon blanket Green Acres...
where Lassie free to run across petco junction
All across the webbed
wide esse Scott's landed wold
emerald green Trifolium
carpets harbor untold
burrows of tiny Leprechauns clover
(leaf) ways grant trifold
wishes if captured might
divulge pot of gold
at rainbow's end, and e'en mend
yar shoes, whence re: souled,
thence tread softly beneath subthreshold
of audibility, cuz unseen universe
hapts tubby microscopically rolled
with subterranean inhabited by Lilliputian
mischievous impish beings
(about bajillion holed
up could fill the Taj Mahal) even donned with
heavy coat protecting them
(usually men) against cold
yet frolic with reel delight jiggling
with inborn instinct exhibit twofold
talent to dance with modesty
downplaying (while fiddling)
analogous to some roof fiend
averse tubby extolled,
nonetheless, their popular
doth soar, and grievously scold
persistent myth anchored with toehold,
and thus do not indulge
pruriently with pixies considerably dulled,
since libido practically nonexistent told
me (under oath of
confidentiality), one Grunwald
trusted yours truly, the secrete
will not leak out,
nor spread like slime mold,
this descendant of Lemuel Gulliver
who schleps across the webbed wide wold.
Yours truly (an average
height and weight size ways)
nondescript grown
male munching kin
stands a little less than threefold
larger than full grown homunculi.
Rumor monger kickstarter
Matthew Scott Harris
posits nontrue tidbit
regarding rock 'n' roll star
who (name unmentioned)
became the most influential
musicians across the universe,
with estimated record sales
of around 600 million
as of two thousand twenty blank.
Imp possible mission
to see non elfish (pressed) lee
160 years after his Irish ancestor
crossed the Atlantic
curling his left lip,
whereby convalescing, peep ping auld
timers cavorting wax nostalgic with
itty bitty whippersnappers,
averse to any outliers,
whether hirsute or bald
an honest to goodness painstaking effort
initially stymied friendship proffered, a cold
reception eventually bedecked
hall of the mountain king
(while sharing diet of worms)
deep under verdantly
festooned knolls of Eire land.
Steady rain swirled, pooled,
and eddied around rolled
up pant legs skinny ankles, which
immediately felt cold
before undertow willingly
steadily, and nimbly pulled this former
ace swimmer into watery fold
quelling, relinquishing, and taking
my hard won mettle of gold
earned early in primetime, now
at last...preemptive quiescent salvation
sluiced into unbarred
Davy Jones's locker hold
all me eager life possessions
long since donated and/or sold,
thus the final countdown
found yours truly submerged
for no rhyme, nor reason told
as I blissfully headed into the webbed
wide woebegone watery wold,
of course said dreamy forevermore
hoary idyll mere
reverie of this stevedore
"FAKE," & figuratively, hypothetically,
and imaginatively furthermore,
yaws true well lee washed away
in briny deep pull lore
ably tipped, gypped,
and drowned ma poor
body electric far from shore,
soaking wet tha top n bot hum
'o me soggy mossy noggin,
wharf fanta seas no longer
will eyes explore
waterlogged optima gills, this papa
wet tin his every pore,
this March 21st, 2019
(ewe could Hermes faintly
bleating after mighty roar)
of ocean riptide off back
offload mein kampf bon jure,
buffer dis future
papa gets tubby old,
and senile, who would
bean imposing chore,
asper deux marriageable
daughters tubby saddled,
reined in upon, and
bridled to endure
caretaking role asper,
this former stevedore
whose existence also spent
teaching many a bore from Bangalore!
Fair Dionysus, friend to all that’s small,
Rememberest thou 'divinity' at all?
Amidst thy congress here with drunks and whores,
Does any finer thing escape their roars?
The greater beauty lies in greater thought:
So, bless the seeker, not the stolid sot!
And do they ever look upon a star
As aught beside a torch to find the bar?
Thou tends thy flock and I tend mine.
Thine are dreary, mine love wine.
Thy flock and mine, they do abuse the wold.
Why, greater gods than we would wish them cold.
I can but save them if they’re in my fold.
Yet thou, of all the gods, they hold most dear.
I preach horizons, thou the pleasures near.
And if I congregate their youth to teach
That greater glory discipline may reach
Wouldst thou destroy the purposes I preach?
Though we are gods, we’re only gods, my friend.
I do not preach, I leave them to their end.
And if, on some occasions, I opine,
‘Tis but the passing comments of the wine.
If thou thy fine philosophies wouldst sell,
I’ll hold my feasts, and may we both do well.
For all thy feasts, yet sorrow’s still thy name.
This pleasant world we claim’s not whence we came.
Add not, to bitter memories, our own blame!
Float not our sorrow on a sea of shame!
And these, our drunken wards, we swore protect.
Nor does our duty die of their defect!
Before they and this planet shall be wrecked,
Must we as guardians act to some effect!
And so support the school I shall erect.
If not by hands of gods, by men they’ll die!
That Earth is mud that does not face the sky!
There is a little worm within this mud
That may survive the Heavens and its flood.
I hold my feasts, yet cannot taste my wine.
Thou guides the sun, yet walks not ‘neath its shine.
Zeus flings his bolts, yet never sees their rays;
And so for all us others, in our ways.
And when the dreams of gods awake the Earth,
Anesthetized, we cannot judge their worth.
Where thou admires in men what makes thee god,
For I, ‘tis deeper currents we find odd.
‘Tis but a deeper ruin that they reach.
‘Tis but one end, if not restraint we teach!
Too sober thou to see what’s true.
Thou sees but once, where I see two.
The day is near: I’m needed in the East.
Thou mightst work less! ‘Twould lengthen then my feast.
I consider myself woke….to me…woke means love…
I wear the woke badge proudly…I slip love on like a glove.
To be woke is to believe that love can find its way
into the life of everyone on Earth…
whether straight, bi, transgender, lesbian…or gay.
To be woke is to believe love does not discriminate
whether one is male or female…young or old…overweight or thin…
Woke does not care what religion one believes or the color of their skin.
To be woke is to believe everyone is equal…
It understands everyone is our sister or our brother.
Woke means never putting any person higher or above another.
Woke teaches acceptance, hope and generosity
principles on which to live…
Woke believes it is not how much we can take from life…
but how much we give.
To be woke is to accept and welcome everyone with open arms…
To help everyone get ahead…
To ensure every person in the world is clothed and housed and fed.
Woke means understanding how most people in the world abhor war
and wold love for wars to cease…
It understands most mothers and fathers want their children
to live in a world of joy and peace.
To be woke is a wonderful feeling…as valuable as the most precious jewel
But lately some politicians and their followers use this word
to disparage, defame and ridicule.
And so I hope and pray…everybody who misconstrues woke this way
this feeling you will quell…
that you will wake up from the dark cloud that engulfs you…
and become woke as well.
And once you enter the cloud of wokeness…
from inside here you’ll see
woke is not only a beautiful thing
but a wonderful place to be.