My cousin shared her wishes and dreams,
On our star gazing night, she whispered them so sweet
As a shooting star glided down from the sky,
She said, I wish ….. I wish…. all I wish are these tonight
Someday, I will marry a smart, rich and handsome guy
And have a grandiose banquet on my nuptial rite
We’ll be dancing like a lovely prince and princess ,
With all my wedding sponsors on their best suits and dresses
All in pink ,that’s the motif I will surely request.
She kept into her dreams as several years passed by,
Still searching for her prince charming who’s hard to find
Unconsciously going beyond the age to give birth to a child,
In a hurry at age of seventy, she took a rich ninety years old guy.
The wedding was held after a day or two,
The guy seated on his wheelchair with rheumatism on his toe
She headed slowly at the alter to accept his shaking hands,
Two nurses followed, so with sponsors dressed up in printed brown.
The highlight of the wedding rite started at once,
They held tightly with a nebulizers on the other hands,
But the words of oath, they took time to pronounce
False teeth were both misplaced and nowhere to be found.
Reception followed grandiosely in the guy’s mansion,
I saw many old men and women still eager to dance on the floor,
With hunched back, shaking knees, they twisted rock and roll
Then, sweet music played and my cousin danced with her groom.
But, we all wondered how did he stand alone?
He’s so heavy , I knew my cousin couldn’t help him at all,
With our great surprise, his nurse was at his side like his crutch
Everyone thought , he’s really a smart guy! Was he not?
Then, everyone followed them so happily on the spacious hall,
And in trio, they held each other so tight and moved like a fool.
Written: Sept. 15, 2012
Contest: My Cousin's Wedding (funny poem)
Contest Judged: 9/30/2012
Poet Sponsor: Joann Grisetti
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012
I am not made a full blown beauty..
Nor I live a life of purity; charity & piety..
All I like to do is to live with identity..
Not of being a witty but a life of humility..
I tried to be a more social person..
Cracking out the shell I have put up..
Breaking from my own weakness..
Doing best in my found strengths..
I have craved to reach out to people..
Widening my horizon, increasing my knowledge and awareness..
Learning to acknowledge fellow human beings..
Regardless of who they are and where they from..
They said: "I must not do this as it is dangerous.."
but I stand to what I know: "Inside all human beings is the reflection of God.."
I give due and equal chance..
As my God have freely given me opportunities too..
We people are living in same earth..
Different are we because of status, faith or race..
Let not this be the reason for us to be divided..
Rather we must come in unison conquering divisions..
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2013
In Youth-less Age
Though gentle, hopeful drifts we brood,
but age our wont be kind enough,
in threescores is when life imbued,
will partial be the earthly stuff;
but you'll still be my fancy then,
when Suns shall be the Shallowest,
and dry as those days --my fingers, pen!
Diluting the persistent best;
then shall I my own mind bereave,
when servile times would near a close,
but will your eyes, mine still deceive,
that greater truth than life propose.
The understanding of our earth,
up till we stay, --the way shall give,
entwine when with a lovers mirth,
we not our age but more shall live;
there I shall be a part of you,
though life may still not worthy be,
but time the hearts as one does sew
and breeds the soul's eternity.
Soon ladies fine with auburn head,
in youth's subservience shall grow,
with shadows white and lips blood red,
to whom the haste --the world will owe;
but, by the words that reason frowns,
and those that cost if cared for less;
within the gardens, across all towns,
just you my dame this heart possess,
as your my gardens cherished fruit,
could time nor age do you wrong,
your grace can shift a hand from mute,
such do my rhymes to you belong,
and the words, claims that come to me,
be their center, and my days renew,
until the time this soul is free,
and life us quells, an end pursue;
the end of the sojourn we made,
shall love then still be intense more,
when breaths and sight move to a fade,
like youth, your age --I shall adore.
R.N.Khan, © 2012
Copyright © Raja Nosherwan | Year Posted 2012
I once saw an old man with hair
the color of snow and in his hand,
He held two circulates of gold.
I asked the man what the rings
One, He said, is for the Young
and the other for the Old.
With questioning eyes, I looked
upon and as He explained,
I heard logic's song.
An in conclusive reasoning, He said
and then a comforting smile,
He gave, as He continued to say.
(The Young) " The heavy bodies
descend by gravity and again the
gravity is quality; Whereby a heavy
descends is an impertinent circle and
Meaning: The Journey Onward.
(The Old) " A circle which touches
the curve and close to the point more
nearly coincides with the curve than
hence is called; Circe of curvation.
Meaning: Coming Into Full Circle.
An unofficial association of people, I said
but the smart set goes there.
It's simple my Dear, He said;
A plane curve generated by one point
moving at a constant distance from a
fixed point, (The Young & The Old).
As He calculated the circumference of the
circle, again He spoke.
Every part of which is equally distant from
a point within it, is called: The Center, The Soul.
He spoke in logic in which I had never heard spoken.
A conclusion of a form of argument between two
or more unproved statements that in the end, prove
each other as one.
Alpha, Omega, The beginning and the ending,
a circulate of gold. The Young and The Old.
Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2014
YOU ARE NEXT!
Wedding coat finery
covering my wretched dismay.
After pinching cheeks
aunties would always say,
“You are next!”
as if saying made it so.
Countless times it happened
no matter how often I said no.
Until I discovered how to stop it
using this little ironic gem;
now when I see them at family funerals
I started saying it to them!
Copyright © Christopher Reilley | Year Posted 2014
His wrinkly hand with sweat, in the palm a ring
her fading eyes regard with a touch of love.
The crowd await in awe the choir to sing
in tones of harmony flying like a dove.
His long-spanned life that spent many a day
with distant thoughts in those he could not hold
for death has trodden restlessly his way
but now this past determinedly will fold.
She has a bleakish history, of sour
events her family knows the tale too well.
Her smile now hides her troubles by the hour.
Bouquets of flowers witness the church bell.
The couple seal the union with a kiss,
A joyful day no one should ever miss.
Copyright © Timoteo Neves | Year Posted 2016