Long Yawn Poems

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


Premium Member Relationships are Hard

I really don't connect well with others
alone never was lonely for me
Don't mind short visits or being out to eat
food can end conversation, nothing to say
take another bite. People can be clingy
wanting more than I can give. I really
don't have secrets, my life pretty dull
but I like it. Never really liked playing games
too much work and everyone cheats.
Somehow it is always competition
never fun, never good game handshake and smile
afterwards.  Always shouting and anger and that's just
Monopoly.  I like sitting on my front porch and
listening to my dogs bark, it makes them so happy.
Like watching the birds use the bird bath, they
are whimsical in the water. Like listening to college
football games on the radio, the play by play and
game description are more fun than watching TV.
Not many have patience now. Always seeking satisfaction
with a high tech gadget that thrills them with colorful
lights and images. To each his own.
Maybe if I could pretend to care instead of ignoring
others it would help, a gentle nod in agreement,
a slow hmmmm of interest, and never yawn within
minutes, perceived as rude. Can't really talk with anyone
they only want agreement. A slight turn from their perceived
reality could end up in a violent fist fight.
Not that I don't mind occasional exercise but too much effort.
Maybe that's it, relationships with others are
just too much effort with so little enjoyment.
One day the world may calm down and people could
be agreeable even without agreeing. But not yet,
not yet.


A Sleepy Springtime Morning

A sleepy springtime morning 

A sleepy springtime morning
the sun awakes the dawn
I slip from neath the covers
a smile and a yawn

You're lying there beside me
peacefully asleep
So beautiful the image
my mind it loves to keep

I make a pot of coffee,
a cup for me and you
Then wait for you to join me
a table set for two

I peek in at you sleeping,
you open up your eyes
and giggle when you see me,
I breathe a happy sigh

This sleepy springtime morning,
now blue skies up above
Is always so much better,
when shared with one you love

Good morning Soupers
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Met My Love

I met my love before the dawn
But all we did was nod and yawn.
As sleepy hearts of love can’t speak
So we, more rest did seek.

I met my love to break our fast
But quickly so our time did pass.
When leaving she gave me her smile
Which held me for awhile.

I met my love as it was noon
And sang for her a cheerful tune.
A kiss she gave me on the cheek
That made my knees go weak.

I met my love as evening came.
Undying love I did proclaim.
She fell into my warm embrace.
Our breath, our hearts did race.

I met my love beneath the moon
To vow that we would be wed soon.
Her life, her fate she joined to mine
Eternally entwined.
Form: Rhyme

A Night's Journey

When the late night shines upon me 
And I am just a yawn away 
From entering my dreamland 
Such a lovely place to play 
Will I remember if I have been there 
Are my thoughts sketchy at best 
When I lay my head down to sleep 
For an evenings night of rest 
When my head it hits the pillow 
And I slowly fade away 
To escape into my dream world 
To lead my mind astray 
They seem so clear and vivid 
While I live them in my mind 
But the details become sketchy 
When awakened they are hard to find 
But I travel back each night time 
In search for a perfect place 
A fine nocturnal excursion 
And a view of your beautiful face 
My heart has joined this lovely ride 
It has traveled this road before 
Walking hand in hand in the night sky 
Revisiting earth once more 
We’ll dance across constellations 
Tip toe along the stars 
While the evening skies become your eyes 
And I feel you near and afar 
Then suddenly we are falling 
And the planets pass us by 
Holding on to each other 
While we no longer fly 
Our lips they touch just one more time 
I suddenly lie awake 
Returning from a journey 
I never knew I would take 
It all seems so wonderful 
That I close these eyes each night 
And float away with my imagination 
The heart navigates this flight 
Some times the ride is plenty rough 
Waking up in a cold cold sweat 
Recalling that you cant dance in the big dipper 
Without getting your big toes wet 
Now I lay me down to rest 
And these eyes will slowly close 
Ready for my night time journey 
But to where? , nobody knows

Premium Member - A Sigh -


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                      Dreams engrossed

                  Delicate bluebells yawn

                     Heaven refreshing   

                    Soft wings of swans

                    A glowing splendour 

                     We rest in silence








                07.07.2015 A-L Andresen :)
                Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Form: Verse


Just Righting

Its pools of elastic black oil
that pulls lines and curves
spaces pausing words
a flick of a tale
a flick of a tail
tendrilled T's that stretch and yawn
U's that capture like cups
O's that don't stop or start
slytherin squiggles of serpentine s's
i hang a hammock between too Y'S
not too wise
without the h would it urt
scratching scrawls that screech of something soulless
feathered fails and faltered falls
scripts of pain and love that came before
lies that slip the silence
truths that never shared
Hope that just hopped by
Fear pulled sorry by the ear
until it shed a tear
Eating away at the hate
What words will i let go
which will i store for another
Which sword is wrnog
which rite is write

Valentine's Day Always Found Me Aquiver 2nd Heartfelt Hug

at the growing flock
including male friends relatives,
minus yours truly, whose presence,
would merely generate a yawn,
though even a distinct black swan
received royal carpet treatment
particularly one named Shawn
encompassing another honorable guest

with illustrious surname Rawn
guests underwritten by Cupid,
whose presence surreptitiously withdrawn
(invitations distributed widely explained,
just beak cuz gerrymandering redrawn)
even provoking deer interest
of stray doe eyed fawn
hence lacking bravado and brawn

this bird den some seedy,
yet dove out crow kissing Avocet
trundled off to parts unknown you bet
far from boys stir russ, raw cuss, diss cuss
ting clacking clique, and thus this solitary fret
full ostracized, rejected, unwanted egret,
who heron there experienced many a let

down, not simply because of stork disparity
with the Aves and havenots, 
but I never met
any other species so set
in their ways, hence off
on a wing and prayer
in search of other buoys and gulls,
whom this dodo bird they will coe vet!
Form: Rhyme

On January Third

Read a few of those stories of 
Guy de Maupassant today (On January third.)
One of them was called “The Parrot”, 
Where a tortured woman killed a bird.
These days I barely go outside, 
It is a very difficult fact for me and the little ones.
Although there is no white snowfall in Edinburg, like Chicago. 
This city never does.
I happened to learn a new thing from Maupassant,  
As in one of  his stories, where
A cup of Coffee was smoking on a person’s table. 
I found it quite interesting, there.
Actually most of the time, 
I feel a similar situation for day to day tiny moments, 
My morning cereal talks to me while I yawn 
And the same goes for others
We all utter with a tired voice, 
Okay, when will be our next meal then, after….?
And I assure others, with a dried smile, a gesture 
That only they will decipher.
My lonely strange nights are still very talkative, 
Reminds me of a rather silly story
And Nightly sky still sounds like a sea- confined 
In a tiny shell, in an awakened diary.

Premium Member First Thing

First Thing

The morning is quiet. 
I have not yet gone outside. 
I yawn inaudibly. 

What will the day be like?
Will things be okay?
What should I do about?
What will happen if?

It all floods back at me. 
A never ending onslaught of…
So many things I think about. 
Only moments before,
peace.
Now?
Not!

I want to roll over. 
I want to go back to bed. 
I want to pull the covers over my head. 
I want permission to stay where I am. 
No one is going to give me that. 
Not even me…

Work is calling. 
One kind or another, 
“it” knows the word or words, 
used to bring me from my stupor. 
Yet, I linger.

Do I have time to pray?
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Indifferent

It is not that I do not care
or your worries that I share
Your problems though they be
are not really about me

Sympathy not much
feelings out of touch
Concern forgive my yawn
angry I feel rather calm

Wrong or right
good or bad
let it be
I am sleepy

So stew on for awhile
I am neutral timid and mild
Maybe a nap and after I wake
we can sort it out, see what's at stake

Simmer down and go slow
ease off and let it go
If you blow your top
will it ever stop

Mediocre as it seems
dumb to others sure its deem
but important to you you you
for the hundredth time walk me through.
Form: Rhyme

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