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Love Work Poems | Love Poems About Work

These Love Work poems are examples of Love poems about Work. These are the best examples of Love Work poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Keep It Turnin' to the Right

Oklahoma cowboy, tough coal miner’s son
Born in Henryetta, south of Tulsa some
Raised by daddy’s momma, taught him wrong from right
Daddy taught him ropin’, taught him how to fight
 
Herding made no money, its stock was really down
Mamaw feeling poorly, dad mining at Old Town
Seventeenth of December, in the year of twenty-nine
Dad was shoring timber, 9th west entry of the mine
 
The gas ignited close to him, he never smelt its breath
It belched out fire and thunder, and everlasting death
Sixty-one they counted, who wouldn’t see the sun
Twenty-five weren't recognized, they buried them as one
 
On that fatal Tuesday, the boy became a man
Had to make a living, had to have a plan
Heard about the oil patch, got a chance to try it
Drill the earth for all she’s worth; keep it turnin' to the right

Some they called him weevil, some they called him worm
Some they wouldn't speak to him, figgered he was just short term
They told him "Open up that vee door; go to get the key
It's in the possum belly, in doghouse number three"

Took his turns at floor hand, at first a little green
Became the fastest broke out hand the driller ever seen
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right

The driller called him partner; the pusher called him son
The other roughnecks shook his hand, and took him in as one
Got up on the monkeyboard; learned to spin the chain
Pumped that mud and shed his blood, and worked right through the pain

On a bitter frosty evening tour, in a cold December snow
He saw derricks lit like Christmas trees in distance far below
He saw the fairyland of the refinery, shining through the night
He saw Mother Earth and the universe, all turning to the right

The oil patch was a hard life, moving all the time
But he saved a lot of money, didn't waste a dime
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right

Sent his kids to college, working through the years
One became a teacher, the others engineers
He hung up his hardhat; he shed his steel-toed shoes
Then one day he passed away; he'd finally paid his dues

Made it to the Pearly Gates; they handed him his wings
Handed 'em right back to them; said "I don't need these things.
I want to do some drilling. That's my heavenly plan."
They said "Go talk to the Devil then, cause he's the company man."

Old Scratch needed hellfire; he always come up short
Too many politicians and others of that sort
When he heard they had a driller, he jumped up with delight
He danced a jig, "You've got your rig. Keep it turnin' to the right."

Now he drills for hellfire; in the derrick he's got Jake
Buck and Sam on the platform; Sonny's on the brake
They all grin like demons; they're all where they belong
Doing what they love to do, they sing their roughneck song

"We all eat caliche and drink the devil's brew
Play dominos with Satan and skunk him at forty-two
Work all day on Sunday and honky-tonk all night
We're oilfield trash and we'll take cash to keep it turnin' to the right

We all love West Texas; it's like the Promised Land
Horny toads and rocky roads, and even dunes of sand
Dust storms every morning, northers every night
We get tans and freeze our cans to keep it turnin' to the right"

The lingo used around the rig you won't hear much in church
It'll curl your hair and make you stare and leave you in the lurch
So close your eyes and realize it's gonna get much worse
Drink your beers and plug your ears; here comes the final verse

"We p*ss longneck Lone Stars; we f*rt Frito pie
Give us ****, and we will spit some Red Man in your eye
Don't **** with us, or we will cuss and bring you to the fight
We're low class, but we kick *** to keep it turning to the right"

8/10/2012
Coal mining, oil drilling and Hell - Doesn't get much darker and deeper...


Details | Epic | |

My father is a Soldier

My father is a hero.
He stands so tall and proud.
His hands are firm, But gentle.
He stands out in a crowd.
People stop to Thank him.
For Freedom he does fight.
My father is a Soldier.
But he's my Dad at night!


Details | Rhyme | |

Tender Years

"Tender Years" upon first meeting my heart felt a certain chemistry though I was far from seeking love I vowed intentionally needed to work and raise my sons as best as I could being my boss gave me a chance to show my work was good. a team of excellence we were and business was successful my life was starting to take shape though times were very stressful one night you offered me a lovely dinner to escape surely I accepted not considering it a date. years have quickly passed so tenderly we fell in love you were my strong support, my Angel sent from Heaven above as much as I tried to resist you said we were meant to be our wedding day in Paradise and the rest is history. our love balances all the bad and turns things all to right when I am cold you cradle me and sing me songs at night years ago I cut and combed your wavy wild black hair but now you are my sexy Cupid, bald beyond compare. as every moment of our golden years are cherished our family has grown so close in love and flourished and still we work together fulfilling lifelong dreams I am the creative one and you pioneer financial themes. these tender years have taught us both about why we love so God is the center of our lives helping our faith grow we thank each other everyday for love so faithfully and the wonderful way you learned to share my poetry. *For Gail Angel Doyle's Tender Years. *Written by: Linda-Marie Sweetheart. *Dec. 7, 2012.


Details | Rhyme | |

PAINFUL LOVE AFFAIR

PAINFUL LOVE AFFAIR

I love you my lover.
I don't know why?
You are working so hard,
I love you from nine to five.

Soon we both will clock out.
Going to our separate  lives.
The lives we always dread about.

At work you give me the attention.
The kind my husband dose not give.
Plain simple kisses with no affection.
At my house that is how I live.
A love affair you did mention.
No more teasing, no more flirting.
Sneaking, and releasing our lust and tension.

We both started accidently caring.
While at work you hold my hand.
We see everyone just staring.
They can't bare to understand,
the two lives we are tearing.

I love the things we talk about.
Around my husband we always shout.
Always thinking we would be together.
Until that one day ,
I feel under the whether 
I had to tell you goodbye .
Writing you a last love letter.
Explaining the reason why?
No one can make things better.
All I can do about this is cry.

You said when your wife was in doubt.
About me to her, you did not lie.
My husband after, soon found out.
In that moment, I felt the need to die.
In my face he did more than shout.
About the baby, made him cry.
Relocating us to another route.
Far away where I can never tell you HI.
It's your baby, with no doubt.
The one thing my husband want me to deny.
This love affair I can never talk about.
A painful love affair in my eye.

             I.T.
      S.K.A.T. POETRY
          2-24-10


Details | Rhyme | |

THE AGING PROCESS

Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.

Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.

Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.

Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.

Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?

Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.

The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.

The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.

Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.

Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.

Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.


Details | Free verse | |

You Already Know

I'm not great.
I'm not extraordinary,
But I'm okay knowing that
Just as long as you 
Love me
For being
Who I am when I'm 
Discovering who I am
And how I cope.
I don't work with metal;
I don't work with wood.
All I have are my words,
Spoken in 
Hopefully, a poetic way.
I speak and I speak,
But when I write,
In a way,
Nothing gets spoken.
I'm not motivational;
I'm not inspirational,
But as long as I 
Move a wistful soul
From time to time, I'm good.
I'm cold,
Scared,
Confused,
But it seems
I'm running out 
Of time 
And people to talk to.
I want to speak
With my words, but
It seems only my
Ranting of how I'm 
Stuck and lost 
Gets my point across.
I can send your mind
In a spin;
Only because 
I am constantly spinning
With overindulgences 
Such as
Being loved 
And even hated.
I spin from giving,
And, in return, 
Being spun some more.
Puzzles compose
Every metaphor.
Time-
Power-
Love-
Effort-
Trust-
Life in general;
Only, I tend 
To put pieces 
Where they belong,
Then come to discover
That, later, they grow
And start to mesh.
I don't know
If, looking back, 
I'll only see me 
Waisting my time 
Or looking over
What helped me through it.
I couldn't tell you
That everything I cherish
Will be there
Or even here tomorrow.
The ones who understand 
And know more
Of me than I do myself
Are the ones that
Keep me spinning.
So, here is me speaking.
I feel as if 
I'm looking through 
A narrow telescope
That is covered 
On the other end.
I see 
What I choose to see,
But what's that to 
The world?
They don't have the time
To keep up 
Or slow down;
Just
Going their steady pace
Until they find the time 
To waste it.
I wish,
I hope,
I wander,
But no matter
Where I go, 
I only see 
That I'm finding nothing.
My mind
Is tired, 
But my emotions
Are ready to fight.
Bring it on;
I can and
Continue to take your shots.
Take me-
Hold me in your arms
Until I'm safe
And fall asleep...
Maybe when I wake up
I won't be scared, confused,
Torn and lonely.
Maybe I'll wake up and realize
It was a dream and I'm safe
Because you are there.
I'm not great.
I'm not extraordinary,
But you know who I am 
And love me for it.


Details | Couplet | |

2012 resolution Vol 3

Another fresh year is here, I would love to banish from my life, worry doubt & fear. I would like to be joyous, true and live life each moment with zest, and give the people around me nothing but the best. I would love to talk, communicate and break mental barriers that are creations, and work hard towards mending broken relations. I would love to tell my wife to give me all her tears and fear, and take from me all my love the loving words she likes from me to hear. I would love to make an effort to be a good friend, to my elder daughter and put all petty misunderstandings to an end. I would love to stop to the people in contact ,the shoving, and spend more time in loving. I would love to stop being disadvantageous and outrageous, and speak only the truth and for that be courageous. I would love to fight my emotions all unfriendly, and cover them all with feelings that are friendly. I would love to learn to be sensitive, and towards others be open and receptive. I would love to practice not to crib about all the things life has not given me, and be greatful for the great things around me I have an opportunity to feel and see. I would love to learn to be content about all I have received, and focus now on giving and helping those, whom life has deceived. I would love to pray for world peace and plant more trees, and work to help out for carbon emission decrease. I would love to learn to be unforgiving, and be more tolerant and caring. I would love to right some of my wrongs, and be true to myself and hum joyous songs. Finally, I would love to learn to be humble and full of gratitude, and to do so spend some precious moments of my day reflecting in solitude.


Details | Couplet | |

If I Were To Work a Miracle

If I were to work a miracle I know what it would be
In selfish quest I'd ask to grow in someone's company

Then we could prosper sharing precious moments in life
If I could have the same children, I'd pray she would be my wife

I would treasure the ground she walks on, in joyous harmony
For before I requested this miracle, she opened my eyes to see

Many things we share, architecture and music are two
There's history and geography, she says binds me and you

But it's the music that cements us, especially with Queen
If I were to work a miracle, then this would be my dream





Details | Narrative | |

I Lost a Whole Weekend (Please Pardon My Rant)

I am your champion, I fight for your cause,
my love and devotion give some people pause.

When I saw you I knew you, just like with your dad.
I guess our deep happiness makes some people mad.

I work hard at my job, so that we can live,
and hear me now, son, when it's time to give,
I am the one who ups the amount,
I've done this more often than I can recount.

I also work so your dad will be covered,
for doctors and dentists and allergists and others,
and who do you think pushed him to go
to the skin doctor some two years ago?

From the moment I met you, you felt like my son,
but this is a battle that cannot be won.
When your dad and I married, I didn't steal him away,
he's just as devoted to you to this day.

I heard someone had told you that I was "controlling,"
(I can't even write this without my eyes rolling).
Who insisted your dad fly to LA to see you?
Who worked overtime to pay for this venue?

I encourage his freedom, I've not clipped his wings,
his happiness, above all, is the important-est thing.

I will not be silenced, nor be vilified,
and it just breaks my heart when you take HER side.

I am LOVING and GIVING and ALL THAT IS GOOD,
and I'm tired of being so misunderstood.

So, pardon my migraine, it wasn't intended,
my strength just gave out as your judgement descended.

I lost a whole weekend, I slept like the dead,
I was just too defeated to face down my dread.
I kinda' felt reality shatter, unsure what was real,
like in "Jacob's Ladder."

We're getting no younger, your father and I,
the older we get, the faster time flies.
I love you as if you were my own child,
I'll not carry this burden unreconciled.


©Danielle White


Details | Rhyme | |

Approvals I Should Praise

Approvals I Should Praise

The rhythm of my pen knows no bounds
Its ticks, treks, and steps knows no count.
The songs on my lip just loose the count.
No where, I suppose to untie the bond.

Strong bones are so much in here
They touch and squeeze out letters bountifully.
In these bones, many light I have received gracefully.
Linda is one, Andrea is two among all of you there.

You are all amazing guests in this field
Cup of water..., cup of tea come to toast.
Many hugs, many thanks to you, writ and host.
... Eden that crowns my garden and its yields.

Special parcel to my coy mistress, Linda.
All sea, roses...and sweet showers to you.
And my lady Andrea; always brand new!
I love you all... your words in my wall are tender.

Dedicated to:
 Poetrysoup, 
Poet Destroyer A, 
Andrea Dietrich 
and to the rest of Poetrysoupers.

I     am     Grateful     for     your    warm      welcome.


Details | Lyric | |

In His Arms

In his arms

In His Arms you bury your head into his chest and release tears of anguish fury and disbelief.
Gently he caresses your back and says those four little words you were longing to hear. Not "Everything will be alright" But "I'll make everything better" and at that moment a ton of burden is lifted from your chest and into his hands, but to him feel as light as a feather. Trust is elevated and at most high because hearing those words from his honey thick voice makes it ooze from his skin. Unknowingly you find out not only does he sympathize but he empathizes because once in his life not only has he felt the same way, but you'd once said those same words and lifted a similar burden from his body reassuring you of his motives of loving you.

His arms wear scars from childhood, hard work and labor, to him they're not appealing, to you they're a work of art. It should be part of the suffix ology because you've study every detail of his skin, down to the six beauty marks and a tiny recent cut on his left leg right below his knee.

Those arms scream protection when they're around you. Not just physical protection but protection from what the world thinks of you. In those arms there's no judgment, in those arms there's no need to be perfect, contradicting his kind hold on you, in his arms you are liberated.

Just longing to be in his arms

.


Details | Couplet | |

Fireworks

Out past the meadow on the hill up high 
Two young lovers on the fourth of July 

Blanket spread out on top of the ground 
Watching the town folk gather around 

Kids run around with sparklers ablaze 
The high school marching band plays. 

The smell of cotton candy fills the air. 
The excitement is growing at the county fair. 

Out of the way up high on that hill 
Was two young lovers one named Jack, one Jill 

The crowd is buzzing as the sun goes low 
Waiting for the mighty fireworks show 

Jack looks at Jill with love in his eyes 
In anticipation of the show in the skies 

Jill puts her head upon Jack's soft lap 
Gazing and wanting the night to unwrap 

The first firework streams into the air, 
As a glittering tail follows it there. 

A crackle and a boom it erupts in the sky 
Watching with awe as the following fireworks fly. 

Jack says to Jill, Oh how I love you so 
You give me fireworks dontcha know 

Jill smiles sweetly and gives him a kiss
This firework show she doesn't want to miss


Details | Free verse | |

I will not be late to work this morning

I will not be late to work today

I will get there on time
I will brush my teeth
Without singing songs
Without thinking about birthdays
About gymnasiums
About TAKS 
About sound
About war
Republicans
Democrats
Independents

I will get there on time
I will eat my oatmeal
Without thinking of 
Broken valentines
Strewn against a wooden
Fence 
Like dropped goblets
From a robbers pillowcase

I will be there before the bell rings
My papers will be checked
My hair will be combed
My mind will be alert 
Ready to begin my lesson

I will not wonder why
My oldest son doesn’t have a job
I will not pray too long
For my daughter who is taking the bar today
At 10:30 AM in New Orleans
I will not scar my knees wishing
For some alternate world
Where children are never neglected
Or hurt
Where there is no abandonment

What nonsense to try and order the world
Just get to work on time
Put your things in the car, your projector and 
The white binders that you didn’t look at
All weekend although you were supposed to check the papers and put the 
grades on the computer
I will leave now
Before it is impossible to
Be on time
I will cream my ashy ankles

I will not focus on the white
Cat on the black pillow
With the green eyes
I will not water the plant
I will not watch TV
I will not write poetry
Before work

I will not write poetry
Before work
I will get to work on time
I will be ready
I will not be daydreaming about fog
Wondering if I’ll get Alzheimer’s like my mother
Or colon cancer like my dad
I won’t be thinking about that stuff
I will be locking the front door and 
Closing the gate and clicking the clicker
And starting the car and leaving

I will not be in my living room
Wondering if there is any reason to love
Because I do not love for reason
I love because He first loved me
It is not incantations or intoxication
Or imagination it is my life and 
The structure will come with the
Clearness of Bajan water
So clear you can see the fish
Fly float across the Atlantic

It is time
This poem must end
I will not be late for work
This morning
Not for nothing
Not for nobody
Not for anything
Not for everything

This poem is over 
the work day begins



Details | I do not know? | |

WORK ME SLOW.....

Take my body, work me slow...
Make me happy, work down low...
The things I wanna do, beg me if you wanna know....
Caress my body, go deep inside...make me climb the walls, make me lose my mind
Take your time and work me slow....don't worry bout your girl she ain't gotta know..
Make me want it so bad I could cry.... Make me go crazy trying to get ya lovin out my mind
Your skills are so hot....the time flies by so fast..so work me slow,.. make it good and 
make it last...
Twist me, bend me, make me touch my toes..... can you handle me baby i'm curious to know??
Work me slow.... there's plenty of time and no where else to go... so take your time and 
do it right.... work me slow and make it last all night...
The doors are locked, no one's round so scream my name and scream it loud...
Just take your time and work me slow do the things i like ...yeah you know ....Make me 
scream, make me cry ........make it hot just like i like.....
Tease me, and make me beg.......make it so good i cant hold up my legs......
You been sweatin me for a while but now it's time to throw down, so bring your lovin to 
me, work me slow and make me proud....


Details | Free verse | |

Elevators: 5 Horsemen

Part 1

Onion

the delicacy of friendship

I found you in the flowers
Standing tall we become one
Looking down from gangly towers
Squash, you burn, you pillage, son.

Follow me you say in tongues
Thy shallow mind reveal me tell
Whisper lies clean load the guns
I feel the burn I rot in hell

Friend folly menacing the liar
I loathe this coffin how it leaks
Dear foe you raped me set on fire
The onion peal itself and weeps

Part 2

Traitor

dear monkey boy

Older eyes eat themselves,
glance and kill the other
Unified in the dance,
they steer the musty rudder.

Pained and sweeter deeper wells,
poised buckets drunk with water.
Singled out the one that dried,
handed weights to pull him under.

Wiser times capture the mind,
death justifies dishonor.
Knife slice neat through the devil's back,
who stares blank and milks the udder.

Part 3

Tempest

patron saint

Inside this box
Goodbye tempestuous fall
My puppet of steel coiled thread
Smashed buttons and twisted dread,
Alarm these doors, and
Escape this delusive bunker bed

Stamp the spiders
Thief, vulture of the deflection
The mocking patron of the sinners
Erase this affliction
Relating inward at the reflection

Rise you fool

Part 4

Phoenix

i love you

close the grip
cinched hematic grip
drenched, clawing
seeking the sheave
becoming the counterweight

i absorb, now
extracting the heat
rise like a phoenix
away to be gone to be free
fix me! i have fixed me

i am alive and i love you

Part 5

Aye, Damager

Abolish her state of disrepair
Scattered, spattered drippy thoughts
All around this box of soused leaves
Soak, ferment in the faith of our love

I can't fix this, you know
I loathe this misunderstanding
Of what I am speaking, projecting
To me, Aye Damager, to you

This devil in me
turned and twisted
A wrecked elevator in rejection
Years locked painfully aware

...


Details | Rhyme | |

A Mechanic's Love Poem

You can be my hubcap if you let me be your wheel. The love I have for somebody like you is real. I can give you plenty of loving. I aim to please. I will be your radiator if you will be my antifreeze. You are so attractive to my eye my dear. You’ve got my transmission shifting into high gear. There’s no need to wait four thousand miles for an oil change. A date with you and me is something I can easily arrange. I can give you a tune-up with a new set of spark plugs. You just have to be around to give me plenty of hugs.


Details | Free verse | |

Rebuilding the Shed in the Backyard - Again

My son is out fixing up the shed.
Winter is coming on. Needed doing he said.
He had the time and the bound-to’s.
I’m not used to this thought process, I’m not. Not from a child.

I watch him for a while.
Opening and closing gates as needed.
The dust, sifted into powder from summer’s heat, poof’s with his steps.
The heels of his jeans dragging strings on the ground, erase the tread of his 
boots.

The shed is old. There is algae or lichen on the north side boards,
where the wood is splintery gray.
Some of the lichen florets are the color of sage, some the color of a bright orange 
rust,
Circled with gray ones and black, their life cycle played out.

He hammers nails and screws in screws while holding boards in place.
Sweat glistening where skin is exposed, making long dark stains in his black 
shirt.
Veins standing out against the strain, and
Muscles laboring to prove he can do the job well, without a mother’s help.

While he works I think about his father and how differently they work.
His father preferring team work and orchestrated smooth motion
working side by side, no extra movements – and he whistled.
My son needs to prove his skills first – alone.

The shed is done and it will brave another winter, keeping the horses sheltered 
from the elements.
The wind, snow and horses milling about, will obliterate the trail of pant cuffs, 
Along with the memory of one cool day at the end of summer, 
When a man worked hard to rebuild their shelter.


Details | List | |

Qualities of Health Engendering Women

They see strengths
Not the limitations
These are people who will make you proud of yourself
They will tell you why you’re special
Trust you to the point you have to answer their expectations
They make you better than you normally are
You can be proud of yourself
They respect you 
For what you’ve done
Where you’ve come from
They see what you’ve experienced something real
Respect you for your courage
They live by their rules
They do not expect you to follow theirs
They are at peace to themselves
They are not proving anything to you
They are good listeners
Sincere in their interest in you
You feel important
They are available for honest
Genuine discussion
Makes you want to share yourself


Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
!!


Details | Sonnet | |

Beautiful Redhead aka: Irish Princess

 Dating a beautiful redhead girl will be the greatest moment of my life. She’s like an Irish princess, even better. Her hair is so red, it’s as if she’s on fire. Her beautiful eyes are like a pair of emerald gems when I look at them. And her pale skin is as beautiful as pure, white snow. It seems to me that all attractive redheads are amazing, and most of all, they’re down to Earth. This redhead is also like a beautiful, Irish Princess, even from the Emerald Isle (Ireland). I never dated an attractive redheaded girl before, but it’s about time that I did. Plus, there are other beautiful redheads who are famous, like Kay and Danielle Panabaker, Emma Stone, Hayley Williams, Lindsay Lohan, Lily Cole, and others. Not to mention Julienne Moore, even though she’s happily married. I wouldn’t mind dating a beautiful redhead, but she has to be from the U.S. or Ireland. She’s like that redheaded warrior from Brave. She’ll be my Irish Princess one day (Irish girlfriend), and I’ll be her American prince (American beau). I say, if I were to get into a serious relationship with this attractive redhead, I won’t break her heart; I’d also be honest and truthful to her. I know that female redheads are sensitive and I also know that she doesn’t want to be brokenhearted. All I know is that if I fall in love with a redhead girl and I become infatuated with her, there’s just no telling.


Details | Rhyme | |

God Has Made Everything Beautiful In His Time

“There is a time for each season…
To everything made…  
There is a divine reason.

A time for purpose under
 the heavens above…
A time for meaning from a God of love.

A time to be born.  A time to die…
A time to farm the ground
 under the beautiful sky.

A time to kill.  A time to heal...
A time to tear down and
 to build up with a passion and zeal 
 
A time for weeping.   A time for laughing…
A time to mourn.  A time for dancing.

A time to keep...
A time to throw away.
A time to tear.  A time to make amends today.

A time to get.  A time for losing…
A time to keep.  And to give
 away at our choosing.

A time for silence.  A time to speak…
A time for each hour
 and day of the week.

A time for love.  A time for hate…
A time for war.  A time for peace at your gate.

How will you spend the time
 God has given to you?
What is your choice?  What will you do???

May this be a time living in 
God’s purpose and design.
He created you and made 
everything beautiful in his time!

By Jim Pemberton  05/22/10
Read Eccl. 3:1-11



Details | Villanelle | |

Purple Majesty

We had saved our precious stock of grandpa’s grape
prepared the ground and amended the soil.
After laying out the orchard, we planted cuttings with our own hands.
Fed the young vines with love and creek water
and waited for the work of the rain and sun
before giving birth to the wine.
To insure that his family would produce the best wine.
Grandpa, tho’ as straggly as his grape
cleared trees and topped them to admit the sun.
He would not purchase plants for his soil
and dug the trenches wider and accessed our water.
He was self sufficient and he propagated vines by his hand


We prevented winds from whipping vines out of hand
to best grow and mature the soul of our wine.
The vines followed the contour of steep site which brought the water.
The rows ran north and south to suit the grape - -
this presented light while drying and controlling the soil
allowing the plants to follow the eastern and western sun.


We placed much faith on the drying done by the sun.
We had one to backfill. We wished we had more willing hands.
We had two to dig holes, and one to hold the vine and tamp the soil, 
as the fruit began to ripen to marry our precious wine.
A crew of four was used for setting the grape.
The Vines should not be sprinkled with too much water.

We made plans to prevent soil erosion and loss of water
to the harden the wood and expose it to rays of the sun.
The Niagra White and Riesling grape.
Both needed pruning and the waste hay cut our hands.
We made sure our methods were best for the wine.
They would mature late, even in warm soil.

We found that more humus was wanted by the soil.
Some magic was performed to deliver more water.
alas, for the reward of a not so remarkable wine.
Again the wait, the prayers, the morning dew and sun.
More work, more time, sweat and callused hands.
The next year we tried a grafted grape.

We had saved our precious stock of grandpa’s grape
prepared the ground and amended the soil.
After laying out the orchard, we planted cuttings with our own hands.
Fed the young vines with love and creek water
and waited for the work of the rain and sun
before giving birth to the wine.
Our final wine was surrendered by the sun.
We captured the prize from our water and our soil.
My hands, today, still stained with the color of the grape.


Details | Acrostic | |

BREATHLESS

Breathless 
Romance
Engaging
All
The
Heart
Launching
Ecstasy's
Shooting 
Star

Contest: Regina's "Romance" 
Date: 10-6-14


Details | Terza Rima | |

Dream You

When I saw you standing at my door that night
I didn’t know what to think, or say, or do
I just stood there in awe and adornment

You smiled at me and I tried not to blush
I tried not to reveal my true feelings
I hoped you wouldn’t see that I wanted you

You read my face; you saw my heart; you knew
Before I could turn away you came to me
You took my hand and stopped me from running

Your lips met mine and in that perfect moment 
The entire Universe was frozen
Everything else disappeared as we united

You were perfect; I was perfect, we were
We were both perfectly connected and
My life was yours; your life was mine; our life

In that one kiss my whole life flashed before me
Joy, excitement, passion, thrill, happiness, Love
All emotions swirling around in my head 

And then I woke up holding my pillow; 
I guess I didn’t know it was a dream.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Lovin' the weekend, Hating the week

I love the weekend
I hate you week.
You demand, reprimand, and restrict me.
You order me around and poke me to move
You slap me in the face
You stomp on my feet
You sock me in the gut
You kick me in the shins
You suck the air from my lungs
And still expect me to breathe
And after all the pain I go through
For you
You tut-tut, shake you head and say:
‘You still got lots to do!’
I hate you.
I love you weekend!
You are my friend
Would that your blissful, lazy days
Would never end
You let me play
You love my laugh
You always indulge me
You let me sleep
You give me the space and time to be Me
Unlike your antagonist sibling, the week
Let me pass on a Friday night
Let me die on Saturday
Let me stick myself on Sundays
Let me stay, weekend, let me stay!
But no, you’re moving at your usual pace
Marching into yesterday
Bringing in the week with your departure
And silently murdering me
If you must
Do so
But don’t let me die in the week!


Details | Free verse | |

THE PEN!

"Are you Quill?," She asked abeam.
"Yes, of course! - mostly - when the Muselle` 
visits oft'n'r upon, as my wont!
"Well, here!, this will surely help at the Magic...

And IT, Voila!, was in hand, a thrust-unmistakable!
Blunt, bulbous & sleek, a slick Recife, 
this Turquoise and Silver stick.

Is IT "Blue?" Is IT "Black?" 
Pray, "Blue-Black!?"  Wow! - 
A Sole instrument for Playing in the Indigene,
Soul Colors of the Earth! - I nearly crack to Self.

Swirled-embedded, b'neath the haute Baekelight-Crystal
like a LavaLamp-Entemp.  IT's messages of ambidexsrait-
Threads, Mola thru splayed fingers.  O' Charitable Mage 
You have brought to Life!...   I     Write    Handcrafted!  
                                                        
                                                        H.e.m.
                                                        5.1.MMvii.
                                                        Solus



Details | ABC | |

12-14-12

Just a day
“Good Night Mom and Dad” I said before I went to bed. “We love you” they said as they closed the door
Mom comes in and wakes me up “Time to go to school” as my feet hit the floor
I got dressed and ate breakfast and got my book bag and now we are on the go
We sit in the car listening to music “It’s Friday I think I’m a little excited tho
“Alright baby we here” as mom open the door to let me get out
She closed the door and kissed me on the head told me she loved me before she pulled off
Another day of school and it close to Christmas
I can’t wait to see Ashley and Alexus, today is show and tell as I said in a whisper
We had learning center day and Boy! Was it fun!
Today was a free day and on Friday there isn’t much to learn
The room was quite when the was a knock at the door, the door opened
A man with a big gun was standing there; my classmates panicked and started to run
I heard a lot of noises and a lot of screams
I felt a sharp pain in my back as I dropped to my knees
In the distant I heard more screams and then everything went silent
Then I closed my eyes it went dark and on the cold floor I was dying
The other side
It’s Thursday night and off to bed we go 
I kiss my 5 year old son Jaden and told him I loved him so
Alarm clock goes off and it’s around 6:15 in the morning 
I shower got dress and woke up Jaden my little darling
Its Friday, I fixed him breakfast and we headed out for the this last day until the weekend
I enjoyed our little drives to school as we sat in the car singing
I opened the door to let him out once more
Kissed him on the head and told him I loved him ill pick him up around four
I’m at work drinking coffee just talked to my husband on the phone
Got at my desk started to work and the my office phone rung
It’s about 9:30 and it was Jaden’s school
I got the news he was dead and I started to puke
I’m crying uncontrollably don’t know my next move
My son is dead, I can’t believe this news
I hurried to the school in the best of my ability 
I saw the school surrounded by medics, reporters, and police
I ran to a officer and demanded to see my son
He said “I’m sorry ma’am” I can’t do this at this time
At 9:32 my one and only son Jaden was pronounced dead
The shooter was 20 and took my son’s life in his own hands
The questions continue to flow through my head as I search for answers
I don’t need answers I need my son and his laughter
I am now sitting on his bed trying to swallow tears
My husband holds me close as reality nears
My little boy is gone among the other 19 kids
Heaven has 20 new angels now I hope he knew how much I love him  as much as  I did

R.I.P
(To the innocent lives that were lost in the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting)
12-14-12



Details | Rhyme | |

An Ordinary Chore



Swaying with electrical cord to the rhythmic hum
of my new vacuum cleaner, I relax into thoughts 
of slow dancing with you. My hands steadily drum
to the soft music playing inside my head. Caught
between the background of little boy’s morning cartoons
and a moment of my own, the vacuum drowns out 
reality of a Tuesday morning. I whistle the tune
of our wedding song and picture you going about
your day alone at your desk, wondering as I croon,
if you, too, are thinking of me. After all these years,
I still find happiness in thoughts of you. Lost in a June
day from long ago, I steal a smile then imagine you here
with me, dancing barefoot on freshly vacuumed carpet.
An ordinary chore, the vacuum cleaner’s hum 
still spurs memories of us too extraordinary to forget. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Morals Morality and Ethical Direction


Morals, Morality and Ethical Direction… We often hear of morals, morality and ethical direction. What they mean, I suppose, is “one’s discretion.” Very seldom, is anything from the Bible being heard. Why obey God’s commandments? Why, that’s absurd! Many claim, that as adults, just about anything is “o.k.” As long as you don’t do what they do, but what they say! Many are “bombarded” with sexual type of temptations… Often leading many to get into perverse addictions! We set up boards of people to try to be “ethically clean.” When it comes down to it… What does this really mean? Can a person be totally immoral, but 100% ethical?’ Does this, in some way, seem kind of “heretical?” Why believe in God? He’s been ruled “unconstitutional.” While many listen to the news, which is often “delusional!” We hear of perversions, that are often “glorified.” Do we hear of those wanting to be Godly sanctified? If you’re confused, and need some kind of spiritual guide! Look to God’s word! He has nothing to hide! The kind of morality and ethics that you’ll ever need… Can be found in the Bible! Open it and read! Why not read from Genesis through Revelation? We can all find what we need! Across our nation! God and his word give us a true moral compass for living! His life for our own lives, is what he’s freely giving! Won’t you come to Jesus for godly direction today? He is here! And wants to help you find HIS way! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Free verse | |

Work

Work.
Toil.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
Corn. 
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
Work. 
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013