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Quatrain Tribute Poems | Quatrain Poems About Tribute

These Quatrain Tribute poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Tribute. These are the best examples of Quatrain Tribute poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain |

Night Owl

Sitting by her open window,
Was a girl deep in thought,
Lost within a book of Poe,
A perfect poem she sought.

With a curious eye,
He watches her pen,
For she gives it a try,
Every now and then.

He will visit her forevermore,
In silent hours of midnight,
Casting his shadow on her floor,
Within the full moonlight.

Mysterious, nocturnal bird,
Calling out to darkened land,
Speaking such wise word,
Which I cannot understand.

I am lonely, I must confess,
It's just you, me and the moon,
You are much like me, I guess,
So, please sing me another tune.

A messenger of death,
Wailing songs of a banshee,
Has my grim reaper cometh,
Was this warning meant for me?

My soul was projected,
In the shadow of a fowl,
A raven I had expected,
Not the silhouette of an owl!

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

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Another Day

A torch carried on forever, indeed,
for the aggressive rhymer in me,
is alive again, unshackled and freed,
rising to challenge another day, I see.

As I found myself lost deep in Tolkien,
with epic Star Wars, never ending,
surrounded in a geek paradise, serene,
optical illusions before me, suspending.

Life's songs on guitar strings strummed,
an epiphany unlike they've ever heard,
euphoric dreams in my visions hummed,
as I pen archaic word after archaic word.

Artistry is born only to be my brother,
encircled this star, a pentagram made,
my day is done, I have conquered another,
as the sun slowly brings down the shade.

A Word Collage For Chan Hurst

(Cyndi MacMillan's contest)

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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Hidden Beauty

Her smile was lopsided, crooked
And her eyes had lost their shine
In a wheelchair bound and broken
Sat this mother dear of mine

Once the one that they called “Sunshine”
Now was bowed with grief and care
Garbled speech and eyes unfocused
Made the people stop and stare

Yet in this woman there was hidden
Beauty of the rarest kind
Love for God and for her family
Love for words all graced her mind

She was brave and she was noble
Took the falls and burns and smiled
Knowing that her child, a daughter
Lived with fear so justified

People did not see the beauty
Hidden in her crumpled form
All that they could show was pity
Perhaps that is just the norm

But in her dear withered body
MS had so brutalized
Was a mother’s lasting beauty
That her daughter eulogized

Once a flower brightly blooming
In the garden of my home
She remains my flower ever
In the memories where I roam

Eileen Manassian

I grew up knowing my mother was ill and that she would eventually die due to MS. I lost my Mama on March 19, 2000. I still miss her...Her name? Angel. That was my Mama's name. When she was younger, they used to call her Sunshine because of her dazzling smile....

More poems I've written about my Mama:





Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015

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In Celebration of REAL Men

The strength of a man is not determined
By his muscles or his brawn
It is determined by his strength
To admit when he is wrong

The wisdom of a man
Is not determined by myriad facts
It is determined by the way
That wisdom is seen in his acts

The integrity of a man
Is not determined by his claim
It is determined by the reputation
That follows around his name

The love of a man
Is not determined by mere time
It is determined by each moment
That he makes you feel sublime

The sexual prowess of a man
Is not related to his size
It’s how he satisfies your needs
And what you see there in his eyes

The chivalry of a man
Is not determined by his manhood
It is determined by how he nurtures
You to revel in womanhood

The passion of a man
Is not his need to self-gratify
It is determined by how often
He makes the effort to satisfy

The wealth of a man
Is not seen in monetary things
But by those things that are free
That to your life he brings

The age of a man
Is not seen in the age life deals
But by the strength of his heart
And how young he makes you feel

The sweetness of a man
Is not determined by what he says
But it's determined by the fact
That you want him more each day

The humour of a man
Is not determined by a hurtful tease
It’s determined by how your laugh
When his words your heart please

A man is an awesome creation
That I’m determined to venerate
As Eve’s daughter much in love
This male wonder I celebrate.

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

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The tigress' mark

She prowls the night
with clenched jaw and pride,
nothing able to smite
her remorseless stride.

The ominous reflection of moon 
shines forth from devouring eyes
of a nocturnal beauty spun on the loom
of the Creator's bid and sighs.

Grace moves her every limb
and she precedes an enraged scream
caused by ruins of a forest now grim
and held alive by all but one stream.

Her claws prophesy of vengeance 
though her heart yearns for reconciliation.
Yet now there would be no leniency 
for a soul's annihilation. 

Now on journeys through lush valleys and ashes
she will embark
until all that remains after furious thrashes
will be the tigress' mark.

Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013

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The Hollow

The October night was dark and cold,
As the autumn sun was going down,
When I recalled the legends I had been told,
About this sleepy, little town.

There were tales about the haunted woods,
They say the wind seems to call your name,
I was going where no one should,
And if I survived, I'd never be the same.

I walked through the covered bridge,
As the harvest moon rose into the sky,
I had made it around the darkened ridge,
Just as I heard a lone wolf's cry.

I walked the path of the dark, gnarled thicket,
Through the fallen leaves of maple and oak,
I heard the chirping of a cricket,
Near the hollow, where the bullfrogs croak.

Then, I heard the "hoot" of an owl in a tree,
And the "caw" of a raven on it's perch,
The headless horseman I hoped not to see,
As I passed the graveyard near the church.

I told myself I would be alright,
Just as I heard the hooves of a horse,
But, I knew I would make it home tonight,
Because there are no ghosts, of course.

August 30th, 2013

(This was my tribute to "The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow" by Washington Irving.
I wrote it from the perspective of Ichabod Crane.)

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

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It seems like it was yesterday
   in backyard sandbox she had played;
      granddaughter loved to have her way
         with sand, her pail, scoop, shovel, spade.

She'd mold and build, with special care;
   imagination took its form.
      Sometimes she'd throw it up in air
         to watch it fly like a sandstorm.

Fast forward now just twenty years:
   our princess then, in her play sand,
      now lives a life on new frontiers
         soon headed for another land.

A first lieutenant based stateside,
   her unit soon will be deployed
      to mid-east base...Kuwait...supplied
         with desert sand, so vast and void.

Her 'sandbox' then, to serve with troops,
   logistics and supplies command,
      where sand is pushed with 'dozer 'scoops'...
         and windstorms fill the air with sand.

It seems like it was yesterday
   in backyard sandbox, she had played.
      As West Point grad, she makes her way
           to serve our country, unafraid.

Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Sandbox
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016

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Eve T.M.M. is a sweet Canadian gal A product of the wild wild west Living between Edmonton and Calgary Imagine as a cowgirl she's dressed Riding frisky stallions and lassooing steers Roundup time on Circle M Ranch With the majestic Rockies off in the distant A loud Yippy-Ki-O she does chant Now my friends, I could be totally off base Eve may just be a simple city girl Perhaps just a sweet down to earth real lady Sending rancher's heads in a whirl Well I'd like to think she's a sophisticated lady With servants at her beck and call Wearing a diamond studded evening gown Dancing the night away at the ball Eve T.M.M. is a sweet Canadian gal A product of the wild wild west © Jack Ellison 2015

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015

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Go With The Flo

Go with the Flo, I've heard it said Think I'm gonna give it a shot What a sensual, passionate lady she is Sure doesn't hide her plot Always fires straight from the heart Doesn't have ulterior motives Whatever she's written is the way it is No BS, no flowery emotive Became attracted to her immediately With her honest, up front style Very appealing with no secret agenda Maintaining her feminine guile A gem to be sure here on Poetry Soup A breath of fresh air to be sure Just a wee poem to offer my friendship As my silly humour she endures! © Jack Ellison 2013
As my silly humour she endures!

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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The Blue and the Grey

I woke up this morning with a tear on my cheek
And I found myself thinking of you.
Yes, you in the back in the light grey scrubs
And you in the navy blue.

How can I express what you all meant to me
As you dutifully put in your shifts.
God bless the nurses who serve every day,
Without you I'd still be adrift.

I know there are others who make up your team
But you are the ones I remember.
You touched my heart in the fall of my life.
I'll be grateful until its December.

Just so you know, I'm doing just fine,
Except my heart valve now ticks like a clock.
I've traded my gown for a bath robe and jeans
And my TED Hose for argyle socks.

Tell the PT's I still go for walks,
Though my jeans hide the flash in the rear.
Thanks for your service, may you all find your joy,
And thank you for coaxing this tear!

Copyright © Dean Wood | Year Posted 2017

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Charming Charmaine

Charmaine, the dear soul writes like an angel Her poetry is beautiful and touching She writes with a passion known to only a few You'll find your heart you'll be clutching Some just know how to create those phrases That leave us in awe and wonderment A natural talent that some are born with For others it a struggle and torment But Charming Charmaine has it down pat It's to do with her approach to life Definitely sways the way she writes poetry A style that does surely entice Charmaine, the dear lady is a friend of mine I'm so happy to know this soul Stands tall in the world of romantic poetry So fortunate she's an honour to know! © Jack Ellison 2013
My loving tribute to Charmaine Chircop

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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My Tribute to Our Jerry T Curtis

He found me in my solitude 
one autumn day, when I was lost;
appeared, the way the sunshine peers 
inside the edge of morning’s dawn.

He came to me that dismal day
and softly lit my darkened path, 
reached out to me with friendly words, 
and took my hand to guide me back.

He lights the sky with kindly smiles, 
and shares good humor with his wit.
He makes me feel like I belong,
in places where I didn’t fit.

An all-around good kind of guy,
an asset to my list of friends;
So, Jerry T, this is to say 
my gratitude will never end.   

Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2016

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Tribute to the jester

You tango, you twirl in tangerine tails, 
With ragged red’n’black blouse and shoes
Little leather flimsy flopsy boots with dinky tink balls, 
Balls that ding a ling to amuse

The crowd's at the court in front of the king, 
Your mandolin plays a short song,
A song that brings smiles to everyone’s eyes, 
Making everyone sing right along

And then you swing your motley cap’n’bell hat, 
Beaded bells all bounce to a beat
As you juggle and joke and tell a beautiful story,
Your magic’s an invisible discrete.

Everyone’s happy when you perform for the king, 
Everyone loves you in town
You're the king’s street performer in red and black stripes, 
His jester, his fool, you’re his clown.

Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2017

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She Gave Me A Star- A Tribute to F J Thomas

She gave me a star by my name
Just what I’ve dreamed of for so long
There by name, a shinning star
To PM Members I belong
She gave me a star...

She gave me a tiara for my hair
Sent messages for the “Queen”
She chased all my tears far away
A kinder heart I've not seen
She gave me tiara

She gave me a smile for my lips
Brought the sunshine right on in
It’s hard to fathom such sweet care
This friendship of ours is a win
She gave me a smile

I wish for something more to give
Than this simple silly old rhyme
I’d give her what she desired
Something that will last through all time
I’ll give her my love!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

I wanted to say a very humble thank you to F J for her stupendous gift of a PM Membership. If you only knew how long I've wanted it and the reasons why I didn't get around to it....Lots of reasons. Here it is...a gift....a star by my name...by a star in my sky. :) F J....you've been more than kind to me....First the tiara and queen title...now this....I will carry this in my heart....for as long as it beats. Thank you for your wonderful friendship. God bless you!

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014

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Attila The Hun

Attila the Hun was a kindly old soul He raped and plundered the land With the aid of his murderous henchmen all A truly psychotic man The kind of man you'd like as a friend If you love to ransack and pillage Hitler was another of these murderous souls Marauding each town and village Need more of the likes of Benito Mussolini Such honourable leaders all But I harken back to Attila the Hun His exploits leave me enthralled May seem like I've tumbled over the edge But I blame it on dear Eileen Ghali She poked and prodded me into submission Could no longer dilly and dally © Jack Ellison 2013 Dedicated to my dear good friend Eileen Ghali!

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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Jackie Robinson

Supposedly we are all created equal But some are more equal than other How can that be and my question is why Aren't we all supposed to be brothers It's totally baffled me all my life Became aware of it in nineteen forty-six All the attention was on Jackie Robinson The baseball world was transfixed The colour barrier was down forever As out from the dark we emerged I'll never forget that season of awakening When finally discrimination was purged My hero, the super hero of my youth Lived and died with his success Till my very last breath I'll remember Jackie With this giant of a man I was obsessed © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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Vacation In Costa Rica

“I must be out of my mind,” I thought
As I hurled myself into the green abyss
Over the forest canopy the zip-line went
“Never, ever again if I manage to survive this”…

I survived and now must brag a bit
I was as brave as brave could ever be
Just part of our Costa Rican vacation
In a wondrous country I’d longed to see

“Pura Vida”, they say, homage to a good life
Such a friendly and simply beautiful place
Full of curious mammals and lovely birds
And natural wonders for all to embrace…

Watched a sloth slowly maneuver a branch
And we had lunch with a monkey or two
White water rafting and a trek in the jungle
Coffee plantations and pure water so blue…

I will never forget the people or places we saw
If you ever have a chance to visit  please go
You might even be brave and go Zip-lining 
You will love the unique experience I know…


Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2016

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A Tribute to Taz

When I met Taz, he was full grown
A perfect example of his breed
Well taken care of and so loved
Everyone would have to concede.

Although there were many with him
Only one to him was devine
Judy was simply his whole world 
Shortly, she would also be mine

The time seemed to short we had him
Where we had to live, he couldn't stay
Missed a lot, but better we thought
In the country he'd run and play!

One bright day when Taz woke up
No one knew, it would be his last
He fought for what was his, but lost
I guess, that the die had been cast

Taz was sweet and willing to please
His love and loyalty  were profound
He left this world as a warrior
When to the death, he stood his ground!

Copyright © PAT Adams | Year Posted 2017

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Let Me

Let me bottle up your anguish and throw it out to sea
Let me swallow your pain forever and ask your tears to flee
Let me take you by the hand and walk you through the park
Let me blanket you with Love and protect you from the dark

Let me give you my only heart and melt away your sorrows
Let me hug your golden soul and give you new tomorrows
Let me carry your heavy cross and adorn you like Kings and Queens
Let me comfort you forever even in your dreams

Let me give you the sky and clouds along with the color blue
Let me give you a summer’s smile cheek to cheek with a cherry hue
Let me give you Angel’s Wings so you may soar beyond the trees
Let me give you waves of Joy and laughter that flutter in the breeze.

To all the Mom's & Dad's who ever took care of a sick child...as seen through their eyes.
And to my sisters in law Paula & Lisa...with Love...^WW^...Nov. 21, 2015

Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2016

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My Great Grandpa

Great Grandpa Zerbst, I wish was here
I'd like him still around
He had a herd of Hereford cows
His farmin' sense was sound

He passed away when I was young
I'd only seen him twice
But even though his life was rough
I'm sure that he was nice

At first, he had some horse-drawn rigs
To grow his crop of wheat
A tractor then, in place of them
That had a metal seat

He had a herd of ninety cows
A huge Wyomin' spread
But now a herd of oil-rigs
Are drillin' in their stead

A lot of things Great Grandpa knew
From distant Germany
But now these things I wish I knew
Are buried 'neath a tree

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013

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It's like a weight lifted off of my heart;
I am no longer torn apart.
Thank God you are safe;
Everything is okay.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

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The Un-Dead

At the Borgo Pass I met a coach and horse,
And the villagers warned me not to go,
They were worried about a supernatural force,
But I had business in Transylvania, though.

The coach rumbled along the Carpathian mountain road,
Through the lightning and pounding rain,
We arrived at an old, darkened abode,
And I thought this trip was all in "vein".

But then opened the great castle door,
And the Count bid me welcome to his house,
He cast no shadow on the floor,
Where scurried a bat and a mouse.

In the mirror he cast no reflection,
On our dinner he did not dine,
And upon my curious inspection,
He drank no water or wine.

Then late that night I awoke with fright,
As something hovered over my bed,
Then I felt a quick, sharp bite,
From a vampire who's eyes glowed red.

Then cried the children of the night,
As all at once, there shined a beam,
I awoke to see a ray of sunlight,
And realized it was all just a dream.

(This poem was my tribute to "Dracula" by Bram Stoker)

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

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dreams or illusions of living in peace and harmony
In thinking about life's problems I didn't come undone
images still float in the wind, music of the Harmonie
The magical dream of people on earth living as one

An adolescent desire of a world with a lasting peace
let us justify a bad decision to stop sowing seeds
or are we nomadic people, living like a flock of geese
Life is following the one in front, unsure of where it leads

with ideas, seeds are sown, establishing a path to peace
Can we transcend innovations, to stop following the flocks
to learn people exchanging views possibilities will increase
listening to people and stop throwing metaphoric rocks

"Yesterday, trouble was distant  life a game to be played"
Our people may be gone, but our past lets us be unafraid
My angel seems far away, but memories will never fade
all dreamers, vying in the game of life will never be swayed

I still believe and long for yesterday

for Beatlemania! contest
of Heather Ober

Copyright © Tom Larrow | Year Posted 2013

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The Perfect Recipe - for Michelle

For these ingredients, check life's pantry.
But be warned: most are hard to find!
However, when mixed in a bowl most pure,
They make a 'dish' that's one-of-a-kind!

Take equal parts of honesty
And gratitude beyond mere words ;
Add to this loyalty, generosity &
Strong conviction in healthy thirds.

You'll need devotion, compassion
And kind thoughtfulness ;
A pinch of pure dedication -
Wrapped in warm trustworthiness.

Now stir in a sense of humour,
Don't go easy on the laughter -
As you'll find this fashionably tasteful,
With a tang that lingers long after.

What amazes about this intriguing dish
 Is how it rises above adversity,
Due to its special resilient essence
Based on home-grown spirituality!

When of this unique creation
You have truly experienced,
Life will no longer be the same:
For it will be immeasureably enriched!

Copyright © Arturus Australis | Year Posted 2013

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To The Past Poets

Often when I sit to write
My mind will wander off
And I think of all the poets
The Soup has gain, then lost

I hope for health and happiness 
For each and everyone
And that they keep on writing 
For profit or for fun

I know life keeps one busy
With it's twisting and it's turnings
But I would like for them to know
We'll keep a candle burning

Although I did't know them well
Their poems spoke to me
And touched a spot within my heart
In camaraderie  

Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2016

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Blue Jeans

I'm a country boy who needs you
The first time you're washed you bleed blue
You go with all of my T-shirts
If I rip you I will be hurt

As crisp as Mississippi's air
I still will wear you with a tear
You are something I'll never share
Got four or five favorite pair

Something I won't trade khakis for
Brown as bags from the package store
Since my favorite color's blue
I want you in every hue

From the stonewashed to rigid you
When I can't buy I visit you
I'm hoping that they give me you
'Cause your fit I'm addicted to

Copyright © Michael Wyms | Year Posted 2012

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Tribute to Five Fabulous Poets

I write of young Timothy
A very thoughtful young man
A thinker among thinkers
He writes to all that he can

He places wonderful comments
And sees life in his own way
Things are so fascinating 
He so enjoys his word play

Then there is my friend Becca
She's sweet and refined
Her comments so generous
They reveal a heart that's kind

What is more spectacular
Is the poems that she has penned
Once I get to reading them
I wish that they didn't end

I have a new friend Freddie
Who may seem a darker sort
But there is much more to him
I am happy to report

He will not sugar coat it
His comments are to the point
When it comes to honesty
He adds color to the joint

Young Anne is a butterfly
As she flutters all about
She touches many people
So I give her this shout out

Her poems like diamonds 
Or perhaps even more rare
There may not be so many
They're all written with such care

I can't forget sweet Yanny 
She is a lovely sweet girl
Each comment a special gift
Each word precious like a pearl

With her own style of writing
She knows how to mesmerize
She can be inspiration
As words dance before my eyes

I wish I could honor more
But I'm limited to five
The poets here at the soup
That all make me feel alive

I am thankful for comments
For all the good and the bad
If they were to stop coming
That would really make me sad

Poem of dedication contest

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013

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The Loyalty Of Carol

In the dictionary beside the word “loyal” Is a picture of my dear friend Carol Have posted close to two thousand poems Missing ONE would cause a scandal They'd hire the poem police to check her out To make sure dear Carol's okay Also to make sure her menagerie is still thriving And Dragon is still firing away Carol, dear Carol, just want you to know Your loyalty is beyond any I've known Not sure this old guy deserves such treatment Appreciate the friendship you've shown © Jack Ellison 2015
A Tribute poem to Carol Eastman

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015

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Something that lets you express
Feelings that you don’t wanna suppress

Something that can be of mixed emotions
Different themes and distinctions

Something that gives words the power
Of changing hearts, wills and bringing peace to war

Something that gives you your right
Of freedom of speech may you be black or white

Something that can touch your heart, fill your eyes with tears making them watery,
And that something is none other than poetry……..

Poetry on Poetry
Contest entry
Date: 1/18/2013

Copyright © Husna Mirza | Year Posted 2013

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A Labor Of Love

I look you up and look you over, 
better days have left you far behind, 
you're older, but to me you're still appealing, 
yet you draw comments that are less than kind. 

You're neglected, not consulted, 
when an answer is required, 
hidden now behind the others, 
avoided, disregarded, mired. 

I massage your spine with oil and friction, 
restoring your luster to cherish and keep, 
remembering when you were readily handled, 
sought after, popular, top of the heap. 

I'm so busy these days with my key restorations, 
I scarcely have time, and I don't have a say, 
so you'll have to wait for my deft ministrations, 
a labor of love, postponed for a quieter day. 

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2013