Best Hampton Poems
The first king size bed was fashioned nearly two thousand years ago,
Not by Thomasville, Broyhill or Bassett, manufacturers we all know.
There was no pillow-top mattress made by Sealy or Simmons for the bed,
Nor a chenille bedspread or foam pillows upon which to rest His head.
The bed was not located in a cozy Hampton Inn or Embassy Suites,
But in a lowly stable with a bed of straw sans snowy-white sheets.
The first King size bed was a simple manger for a royal destined to rule!
A King of Kings was born whose birthday we celebrate this joyous Yule!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Categories:
hampton, christmas,
Form:
Couplet
Independence
In search of freedom, many braved the high seas,
Needing to flee the chains of their home countries.
Desiring a fresh start in a far-off land;
Educating their children to understand.
Plymouth, Jamestown, Hampton, and other such sites;
Enduring hardships, attacks, and other fights.
Now viewing self-rule, like Paine, as Common Sense;
Declaring to England their independence.
Early clashes at Lexington and Concord;
Not shrinking from gunfights or edge of a sword.
Claiming patriots’ victory at Yorktown;
Earning a U.S. republic, not a crown.
Categories:
hampton, america, birth, dedication, freedom,
Form:
Acrostic
"Onward and upward"
the good men and women were heard to say
as they drew their swords to join the fray
The enemy was vanquished and did quickly give way
And peace was preserved in a grandiose display
Now for those that gave all we kneel and pray
So they will be forever remembered on this Memorial Day
Charles Hampton Gragg
May 27, 2013
Categories:
hampton, america, , memorial,
Form:
Rhyme
If I hand thee a rose
would you smile from beneath your bonnet?
If I played thee a song
would you sing me a sweet sonnet?
If I touched your hair softly
would you blush and turn away?
If I started to leave
would you ask me to stay?
If I took your hand in mine
would you hold on for a moment?
If I ask thee to marry
would you accept the betrothment?
If I laid down beside you
would you welcome my love?
If I were father to your child
would you thank the gods from above?
If I passed from this world
would you mourn me for the rest of your days?
If I called to thee from beyond the stars
would you walk with me forever and always?
© Copyright Charles Hampton Gragg March 2014
Categories:
hampton, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Ever Since
Forever, I loved my mother and father
They never complained or tried to bother
But soon found out I was spoiled rotten
So they stuffed each ear with cotton.
Even though she truly was a terrible three
My sister had always been as bad as me
We would pick a daisy and were lazy
And did drive our patient parents crazy.
Somehow we had raised so much static
Hair stood on end and we became erratic
Like loser poets thinking that they can
Give poem brush off then use dust pan.
After each perturbing poem was collected
And like a puzzle pieces tightly connected
Results had become a horrible aftermath
Poets poured water then they took a bath.
Each poem was brainwashed from his mind
Had a great, bright idea and he bee-lined
To you and up poems made others tense
And Soup hasn't heard from me ever since.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
We leave at eight PM tonight from Raleigh for
London. Can hardly wait. We are sure that the
Royal Princess cruise will be something else out
of South Hampton to Guernsey, Ireland, Scotland
and Normandy and return. This might be one of
my last poems for a while.
Categories:
hampton, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
********Note:**********
This is a poem in tribute to Doctor Gearldine Stott at the Medical Center, Hampton, VA and her Nurse Hatton who has alway's stood behind me in my time of need....Also, my friend Steve, who is a funny and delightful guy!
When I was lost and alone
At the Veteran's Administration
Hospital,
Not too far from home
I needed a Medic
To stand by Me
I was so all alone
------
The Lord sent me an Angel
He sent Her 'FED-EX'
Her name is DR. STOTT
SHE IS A DOC
The biggest baddest DOC
That the Lord has got....
------
I was on my death bed
Fore I had just got back
------
From talking to the Lord
-------
I' must have been there
All night.....
To remember how
Was hard
------
Anyway
------
I asked Dr. Stott
To turn on the light
She told me that it
Was on by GOD
You have lost your
Sight....
------
Just sit there
You are going no-where
Tonight...
I was upset
Yet, I wanted to go home
To be with the Lord
That is why I am writing
This poem....
------
You see
Dr. STOTT
Knew just what to do!
She called "ALL DOCTOR'S"
And this is true.....
-------
I know that being a patient
Isn't much, very fun
But if you are die-ing
Please call STOTT 911
------
There are many thing's in life
That one can only dream
But, when the Lord come's
On the scene!
Then you know what
That mean...
------
That if you need Him
He has got your back
And it your in trouble
Or just having an
"Heart Attack"
He will send you an Angel
And that is a fact...
------
If I ever need an Angel'
Or ever need a friend
I call STOTT 911
She is a friend to....
-THE END-
GF
*******Note:******
Thank you Dr. STOTT
For being a friend to the end and back..again!
Thank's to the Lord's helping hand and my best friend
ELAIN HATTON and of course STEVE..
May the many gift's of the Lord be be-set upon you!
Categories:
hampton, death, dedication, devotion, friendship,
Form:
Bio
On October 14th, 2002
At 6:34 in South Hampton, New York
A tiny baby girl
Brand new and alive
Enters the world
For the very first time
Her little face
pure and sweet
Curious eyes wander
Searching for answers
Soon to be revealed
The mother
Crying tears of joy
Looks at her baby
Her child
Her creation
The love of her life
The father
Anxious and excited
Waits for his wife and child
Unaware of what is in store
Tick! Tock! Of the clock on the wall
Waiting to see her face
At long last the reunion begins
A mother and daughter lock eyes
Love sparks
A shimmer glistens in the baby’s eyes
Years have been taken
Hours have been waited
And finally
Their baby is born
After months of medicine
Of Canadian and American family
Youngest in one
Oldest in another
A new baby is born
Another branch in the endless tree
Soon to blossom
In the years to come
Isabella Grace Greenberg
Belle for short
Jewish and Christian
American and Canadian
Absolutely original
And everything in between
Categories:
hampton, birth, child, daughter, father
Form:
Free verse
Glistening throngs walk in detached cadence
Sweating long necks on a production line
Along the boardwalk
Pungent saltwater and fried dough drifts
Ocean meets country fair
Constant clamor of teen and seagull
A multitude of color variation
Red to black
Whiffs of Coppertone and Noxzema
To ease the pain of the vain and pale
Summer at Happy Hampton Beach
Arcade upon arcade
Clinking bells and whirly sounds
“You’re a Winner!” it screams
And then we are gone, until next year
Categories:
hampton, beach, loneliness, lonely, places,
Form:
Free verse
If lovers of lovers had a story self-reflect would look upon a river and share old wise tells
Would it perhaps be nacrracsitic or shallow
Or knee deep to jump in
Idealism or fantasy I say turn the page
If my child was that of divine whisper among the Hampton of the Heaven’s
Thrones and berries that of the fine wine should one bless among each bread basket
Yet to say to learn of perfection that of affections attain by the vision to learn of
Another language of communication would be Inferior to not that of a touch that of
Apparatus as a kiss of hand of risk morning good bed
Sleep of a morning covers the way that it wraps around her body would be a gift
Send from heaven
What wakes turn morning into not such a another day
but a beautiful bluish day I said her love
Sight and mind give me a vision would be perhaps be common sense
If gentlemen attire is to catered to her love passion assure the passage of the storm
Apure and tell me how deep is one love
If continuum was a option would one value the option perhaps would one said
Eternal fatefully gracefully awakes or would old wise tell of such
Passion that awakes
How rare is Tuberose and Delphinium growing together
What beautiful texture and sense it make love among stars
Perhaps Apuleius could sing a carol tell if cupid arrow ever MISS the attire
Those that ask are welcome tell me if fashion matters?
I question not of love but ask
does love every grow old
Categories:
hampton, art, love,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Can Hardly Wait
Remember when I did have a delightful dream
About such a smooth running soothing stream;
Drifted down and into river soon started to feed;
Sorted through seeming to fulfill my each need.
God created and designed a miracle only for me
Which was to release my soul and set heart free,
So that in Him could continue to steadily believe
Everything about God always and gently receive.
Enjoyed and loved God's stream in many ways
While I would offer and give Him all my praise;
Am amazed at what God with my poems can do
I had written about dreams He made come true.
Even my famous friend who by many is refuted,
Much more into great poems God has included;
What a privilege it us for us to communicate;
Read next philosophical poem can hardly wait.
Jill and I will be leaving Raleigh-Durham airport
on May 17th heading for London. We will be staying
at Park Place Victoria Hotel. We then will be leaving
going through Stonehenge to South Hampton, England
where our ship the Crown Princess will be moored at.
It will be leaving on May 21st for Guernsey Island,
Ireland, Scotland, Normandy and back to South
Hampton. Hope to be seeing my world renown
poet friend Terry Cooper and his gorgeous wife June
on May 20th at his glorious home that is in Basildon,
Essex, England. Wanted to make sure his wife June
is doing okay.
James Thomas Horn, Retired American Veteran
Categories:
hampton, best friend, inspirational,
Form:
Couplet
Guernsey, How Great You Are
Instead of Romeo and Juliet. it was Kit;
Were such a pair who never would quit
Being present in each other's midst;
Talk about Guernsey was hard to resist.
There are also two other islands adjoining;
And ocean with water had been anointing
Surface of beaches and sides of each ship
So to Guernsey we had to plan a nice trip.
Once we stopped there did sit and stare
At the elegant beauty we saw everywhere;
Down in a valley or on top of a high hill
Wherever we went was always a thrill.
Living on Guernsey, what will it be like?
How about bright-colored bike or a hike;
Maybe great tour guide down should hale
Who will please us greatly without fail.
Saw friendly faces standing in front of her
Talking of Guernsey and what it did endure
Which to all of us was well worth knowing;
Now back to ship we had better be going.
James Thomas Horn
www.poetrysoup.com
www.story-telling-around-the-world.com
We are going on a cruise on Royal Princess
from South Hampton, England to Guernsey,
Ireland, Scotland and Normandy and return.
This will be late in month of May. Annette
Henry Tours will be in charge of our tour
through Guernsey Island. This is really
going to be a great trip. This whole trip
kind of was perpetuated by the book,
"Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel
Society" written by Mary Ann Shaffer
and Annie Barrows. Jim Horn
Categories:
hampton, travel,
Form:
Couplet
Dear Sharon, I see no end
To the rant of an educated mind
Once the pen is moving. I've seen A students
Butcher my writing. I remember the Fall
Of 2009, the poetry workshop at Stony Brook University,
The hipsters and emotional braggers
Eying my work and telling me what it was about
While the smirk on my face concealed
The howls of piteous laughter.
I walked the solemn paths
Of that heavily decorated school
Where trees had been uprooted
And replaced by foster bushes,
Convinced that my English professors
Do not know how to read, but only how
To dissect.
However, I also remember the A on my report.
It was the proudest one I'd ever had,
And I thought of the first day of class
When we were asked to choose a poet
To fall in love with.
I thought of the summer of 2006
When I walked into a little book store in Hampton Bays,
Pointing my freckle tipped nose at the poetry section,
Looking for something new
To look up to or somebody else
To look into.
I picked through the leaves of Blood, Tin and Straw
By the shelf, at the register and on the way to my car.
I read it to friends and perfect strangers
As a devout fan and penniless salesperson.
I did not take notes or scribble on the pages.
I did not create bull- in the hopes to expound
Some undiscovered truth
Between the style and context.
I did not uncover the root of your sorrows and joy,
For you had already done the task
So perfectly.
Mrs. Olds, you and I find solace
In a dying art. I see you as a friend
As I've seen you as
A lover, a mother, and a mentor
Through the gift of a vivid imagination
Where I've been given the chance
To love and applaud your work
In the comfort of my room,
Under the flickering light
Where the renditions of your heart
Lure me to sleep
As a silent lullaby.
It is an artist like you who keeps me writing.
It is knowing the chances,
That if my words can reach a soul
Like yours have reached mine,
Then there is still purpose in contemporary poetry
In my home, my heart, and my spirit
Outside of the classroom.
Categories:
hampton, dedication, school, thank youme,
Form:
Free verse
It enters one's life quietly; as silent as
the falling snow: the need for a few
additional hours or minutes of sleep.
As the years progress and the hair takes
on a silver sheen the bones and muscles
that sprang into action so readily in one's
youth now yield to the slightest overuse
and seek out a comfortable place to relax
and rest.
The old clock in the hallway chimes eight
times in the evening and the thought of
retiring enters one's mind and the comfort
of the old four poster bed beckons as does
the warmness of the multi colored quilt that
has sheltered you these many years.
You awake in the morning and realize that
your night was filled with exhausting dreams
and your body protests the first attempts
to rise and you lay there in the warmth and safety
of what has become your haven from a world
that you no longer understand and that ignores
the wisdom that you offer as the result of many
decades of experiencing life.
As the years slowly pass and the tiredness creeps
deeper and deeper into one's body, as if seeking to
consume one's very soul, the distant light that
represents relief glows brighter and brighter and
the mind begins to long for the release that is eternal sleep.
©Charles Hampton Gragg, December 20, 2015
Note from author: This write is not intended to be morbid but
instead is intended to cast light on how aging may be viewed by some
in the twilight of their lives. A simple philosophical view. No more, no less.
Categories:
hampton, life,
Form:
Prose
Tis the eve of another Christmas day
A sacred time for Christian’s world wide
Looking past the glitter that would blind us
we seek to remind ourselves of the true purpose
of this sacred time as we pray for peace
In a world that is trembling from the ugliness
practiced by those that prefer evil over good
we look inward for the strength to continue
the battle that those that advocate love over
hate continue to wage not only at Christmas
but throughout the entire year.
It has been said that God is not a Christian
nor a Jew nor a Muslim nor any of the other
hundreds of religions or sects that believe in
a higher power. God is the love that beats
within the hearts of those men and women
that would share their last piece of bread
with a stranger that hungers.
Be you a believer or a non-believer matters not
If you cherish your fellow man, regardless of
his many flaws, the love that blooms in your heart
is of a higher power that transcends all religions
that hereto and hereafter may be known to mankind
© Charles Hampton Gragg, December 24, 2015
Categories:
hampton, christmas, love, perspective,
Form:
Prose
Mister Everett Wheeler Cartwright came from Burlington Vermont
All the way to Massachusetts---quite a healthy jaunt
Didn't really understand the cause the Union fought so hard for
Freedom from King George of England---far beyond his ken, and
Dying from an errant bullet, no one said to Everett Wheeler
Cartwright, "Happy Holiday!"---at his untimely end.
********
Eldridge Porter Hampton hailed from Cotton Valley Louisiana
Had no money, had no slaves, but loved his hoe and banjo
Never heard of Douglas, never heard of Lincoln; couldn't read or
write much, nothin' but his name. Yet Eldridge Porter came a runnin'
East to serve: For Johnny Rebel's legend gave him courage, gave him nerve to
face the soldier'd took his life---No 'Happy Holiday' for his wife.
********
Now the deaths are all forgotten; now the mem'ries fade away
Solders fighting wars today: mocked, reviled, e'en betrayed
"Happy Holiday" to one and all: "Memorial Weekend Super Sales"
Picnics, outings, lakeshore (or) beachside---Beer and Wine and Ale
Far removed from battles, far removed from war's numb pain
One more US Holiday---demeaned o'er tear-stained plains.
A poem in trochaic hexameter and octameter
Categories:
hampton, death, freedom, grief, remembrance
Form:
Rhyme