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Marriage Sun Poems | Sun Poems About Marriage

These Marriage Sun poems are examples of Sun poems about Marriage. These are the best examples of Marriage Sun poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Rhyme |

Wednesday August 25th, 1971

I awoke early that morning as Venus is fading from dawn's sky.
Watching sun rays skate upon the mirror of ripples,gently flowing by.
On the deck of a Princess ship, suspended between the Heaven and the sea.
The mirage of a double Sunrise,as the sun shone upon itself and me.
Today is the day I say "I DO", take thee as my Wife: for the Eons of Eternity.
Bible in hand, the captain stands in Dress Whites, as does his loyal crew.
Arm and arm with daddy,as he gives her unto me; to start a life of Love anew.
Her emerald eyes try hiding behind a transparent Pure White vail; only to fail
Her auburn hair is dancing below her shapely hips: I long to kiss her Rosa lips
Do YOU take this woman"Lenore Ellen Adams" as Your Always and Forever Wife.
I Do echos across the Caribbean Sea. I Do reverberates in the bright Blue sky. "I DO"

Inspired by Dan Kearley's Contest :"One Of Your Greatest Days

Dedicated in Loving Memory of "My LIFE, My LOVE, My FOREVER, MY WIFE
"Lenore Ellen (Adams) Johnson - Nov. 4, 1951 - August 25, 1971


Details | Lyric |

Stay

She said baby I have to go,
I said girl you don't need to go,
Because baby I want you to stay,
'Til the sun rise,
'Til the end of the night,

I said baby I'm feelin you,
And I'm fallin in love with you,
Which is somethin I never thought I would do,
But, I did today,
So girl, Why don't you stay,

Chorus:2x
Why don't you stay, 4x
'Til the sun rise,
'Til the end of the night,

She said baby I have to leave,
I said girl I don't want you to leave,
My darling please stay with me,
'Til the night end,
Then come back again,

Because baby we have a chance,
For us to have a great romance,
So, girl take my hand and dance,
You don't have to go,
Baby don't go,
Chorus: 3x

'Til the sun rise,
'Til the end of the night,


Details | ABC |

Could be

 I wake up before the sun from a cozy bed

I walk outside and feel the crisp autumn chill

So I put a stocking cap on my head

 

I walk through the back yard

heading for the woods

doing something city boy

only wish they could

 

I arrive at my stand

and check the direction of the breeze

before I climb up ole faithful

a dying, dark barked maple tree

I make myself comfortable

as the sun stretches its arms 

for the sky

producing iridescent colors

I live for the outdoor

and that's one of the reasons why

 

Not far behind me a freshly cut field of hay

in front endless rows of cornstalks fill the way

 

I begin to think of a tradition

My son and I on thanksgiving day.

he is still here with me

even though last November he passed away

 

I start hearing cars doors shut

its coming from over the hill

carrying an aroma of cinnamon

It's my favorite! Pumpkin pie

Justin, I'll be back, But for now Goodbye


Details | Free verse |

The saga of the dusty road

The Saga of dusty roads of Utah 
(To the memory of Don W. Esplin, father of Kathryn Esplin-Oleski)
= =
There he was playing with some mild explosives, 
in his own backyard, a resolute boy he is; 
the June month had swelled like the taut belly of 
a neighborhood lady; the boy wanted to be 
a scientist which he became. He, of course could not 
envision that all these sepia dust of Utah, 
the noon backyard and a young scientist’s narrative 
would be remembered by his explosive daughter 
and a strange Indian was going to pen a saga. 

Alfred Nobel was smiling from a page of a book 

The boy rolled a cigarette, the smoke’s curlicues 
swirl up to grain the picture. A blast almost choked
the bright blue jays and robins. Defused sun slanted.
The end of the road was just an end of the road 
where sun could meet earth, warm grass shook off the heat 
and the covert window of the farm house would yield 
a father and son talk. Strong argument on
future, on an university, on money 
on a world that could differ in generations;
of course the boy, as a father, understood 
his girl, then living apart. But distance is in heart.
He would grow up midst dreams. A quirky wind would blow him 
here and there; navy, marriage and science, 
pharmacology and marriage again; a gust
of wind would take him on a ride that, if he could 
read this he would have said, resembled his truck rides 
down the roads of Utah. But at that point of time
he was wide awake inside his misty night’s sleep 
and an American novel is shooting up 
its multiple heads in search of fresh oxygen. 
The waves of moon were enjoying a full tide.

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar