Best Holidaying Poems
This is a message to children who lack sincerity in school. Hard work always gives easy success. Whatever hardwork we do during our school days, decides our future for entire life. Its not only about studies but the sincerity which is developed along with it.
This is a story of two brothers.
Who lived together forever.
Both enjoyed the dignity of a patrician.
Well bred with values and tradition.
Sharp contrast of a Strategician and a tactician.
JUXTAPOSITION OF HARDWORK DURING SCHOOL DAYS
Given his druthers, Veerang would skip studies,
Would escape to play snooker and pool with buddies.
A boaster, prodigal spender and his pathological lies.
Hard work during childhood is just about studies, he didn’t realize.
Krishnang, sincere and studious, positive and jovial.
Help to mom, a great company to sisters, extremely capable.
Topper in school, loved by all, he was just so amiable.
Yes, both grew together.
One believed in hard work, another preferred leisure.
JUXTAPOSITION OF HARDWORK DURING ADULT HOOD
With freedom comes responsibility.
It’s not only about us but our family’s and parent’s dignity.
Hard work during childhood decides our ability.
Yes, our capabilities and the possibilities
In a way our acceptability and applicability.
Krishnang, goes for holidaying across nations.
Veerang is still striving to boil the ocean
What an irony, hardwork now is a compulsion.
JUXTAPOSITION POETRY CONTEST
Sponsored by: Silent One
Date: 21st Nov; 2020
On my return from London
Happiness of meeting dears
and then the pain of parting;
My longings fail to give up
to the things most heartening;
Back to memory lane ....
When Sun rose with tender smiles
and opening of those little eyes;
As giggles marked end of the day
with everyone draped in clay;
Those were the days ...
When we were purely at will
appetite of the chimney and grill,
Holidaying whole day through
with melody of lyrics imbued;
Those were the days ....
Then thick books kept us awake
getting up in the mornings late,
So many questions, how, when and why?
till curious mind rested to tunes of lullaby;
Those were the days ...
Time has flown, memories remain
over the years wasn’t tough terrain;
Colourful person turned to drip
solitude hits hard like a whip;
These are the days ....
My soul stays there
as I halfheartedly return,
Putting smile on the face
while those irresistible tears burn.
Written July 31, 2020
© Dr Upma A. Sharma
All your poems on this site are
automatically deleted in the event of;
1. Your death
2. You voting conservative
3. You just missing an ******
4. You holidaying in Clacton
5. You urinating on Buckingham Palace gates
6. You bringing the game of rugby into disrepute
I will never visit Clacton again.
I'm in the town called Tranquility absorbing the sun
Holidaying am I amidst the valley of said sins
Such joyous commotions viewing children's fun
Seeing happiness abound in wondrous spin
But it's the nature of being here, knowing it's begun
Cotton wool clouds caught by grayed demons be
It's just a matter of moments that they engulf all we
Next morning I awaken to skies of deadened grey
In the distance funnels of evil rotate their dread
Swirling spiral vortexes never shy in their display
Their ignorance now shared delivered imbed
Such her power no prisoners she now portrays
Overturned cars, houses adrift trees now stripped
If such were to be human on a drug fueled trip
God, build me some mountains to surround this plain
Allow said sins to be attracted to forever dissipate
Never to allow grief as such, these tremendous pains
Their height being there simply closes the vortex gate
Lets learn from said angers that they never will again
I'm in the town called Tranquility absorbing the sun
Holidaying where am I, seeing parasols in lightly spun
.
Dont know what to write ,yet sat down too.
sometimes its hard to pen the thoughts,
they are so deep in heart and mind
which wanna stay there and feel safe unsaid.
heart and mind are so different being in one
always contradictory.
then how can i expect you to understand me.
I feel betrayed and worse for what you did.
just few words changed my entire world.
glad that you showed yourself though
after my ruin.
the lessons are heavy on heart n mind.
words have to power to make or shake.
I am so lost and confused to know
whether this is poetry or not.
just a scribbling of unexplained emotions.
would be so nice,just someone reads
my mind and heart,just to see what
I am into.
dont take me for granted ,dare not
and not be judgmental.
coin has two sides and I have a heart to feel.
all the pain goes away with a smile,
holidaying in the
golden memories of the past ,
holding back the flow of tears too.
Count Dracula a haunting figure, through centuries alike
desending on Whitby,an eerly thought, also a shuddering fright
between my hometown Middlesbrough, and the seaside port
the 199 steps to the abbey dwells a frightening thought
Holidaying in Whitby, many times in our youth
the tails of the night stalker,petrifyingly uncoath
tucked up at night, a feeling of surreal
Dracula would hound the streets, lives for the steal
Preying on the vulnerable,gaining all their trust
attacking unexpectedly,for blood that is a must
his black cloak, gaunt profile,terrifying vitality
protruding teeth over over ruddy lips, so remarkably
The Transalvanian terroriser, 400 years ago
puncturing the necks of ladies,blood does slowly flow
evidently the Count,his resting place Whitby Abbey
1000`s do attend each year, a gothic ceremony.
1st in contest.
Paul beadnall for :
Sponsor Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
Contest Name "CREATURES" of the Night!
27/8/11
Sponsor Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
Contest Name "MAY MAGIC" (ALL 1ST PLACE WINS)
If only I was younger, I know where I'd want to be
To be with someone special, who wants to be with me
We'd grow into our tomorrows sharing each others joy
Children, one two three, two girls and a boy
We'd write about many things, live as true love declares
Even dancing naked in the rain, towelling we would share
Holidaying in the sun, this white man to become tanned
Taking each day at a time, true love our only plan
Watching our children prosper, into adults they'll become
Our earlier years will live again, loving under the sun
I'm loving someone special who wanted to be with me
I'm glad we met those years ago, now in the arms of she
.
A dish issue is whether the verb forms a series of events containing two or three ingredients. Ingredients are often officially interesting when placed. And material such as Velcro is very very useful when balancing on a widespread bed of crockery. Well cook then. Worldy worldwide without waste. And a hare is never a problem when hopping through an abyss. Calibres of officialdom. Wow. No problem at a beach house and home and away for the weekend is fine but the other side of the United Methodist Church is the name of the first place of worship. Oh dare one meet a jackdaw in a cardboard car. Or a ministerial monkey. Holidaying hopping hippies have havens. And bend not over a crevasse as dangers stem from rock. And blades spawn from spacial secrets. Secretary then. A portly lady humming. Hahahaha and now a salty dew. Hahahaha and an additional android arguing. Hahahaha dare to swim with the dog. *** multiplication z
Saw the advertisement of a sleazy Volkswagen
Surfed the net as the seed was sown
For anything based on german technology
I knew nothing about car mechanisms
Except the comfort of conveniences
Yet updated my limited knowledge
With its mileage, performance, safety
Saw the diesel and petrol options
Of the Vento sedan facelift images
And I struck the hammer for
An ivory Vento petrol run sedan
Thought it to be the most perfect gift
For my no demanding husband whose
Passion for good cars was no secret
But had never indulged in such luxury
It looked as chaste and modest
Yet powerful in making its presence felt as he
The plush ivory seat covers made me drool
The hatchback was a a luxury for holidaying
Car loans were enticing with festive offers
I had saved enough for the initial down payment
Before it reached home at the traffic lights
An illiterate rickshaw puller scoffing all rules
Squeezed his way between two cars
To leave a scar on the front door
The heart on a trapeze on highways with
Many more dents and bangs on tragic Indian roads
Fuming and fretting at every imbecile
Given a driving license without any lesson
The plush seats became uncomfortable
And the ass became sore
The generosity of an overwhelmed heart
Seemed not a very lucrative proposition
As every pay packet announced debits
With fewer coins on retail therapy
Alas! The years of stringent measures
Will die within a week with the end of the last debit
The Old Vento is finally ours, but wonder
Is it really ivory that I had bought six years ago?
Is it the same sedan whose facelift images that had lured me?
Or does it need a facelift?
Balveen Cheema
January 1, 2015
Contest: Cars- Only for Women
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
My molten core is bursting at the seams
Billowing ash and smoke circle above
Volcanic eruptions are on the rise
Intense balls of fire I toss from my glove
That damnation isle, this Icelandic land
Eating away at our profits, typically planned
This mother nature, no dollar sense
No bonus for us, can she redistribute and condense
Mankind has been playing hardball too long
His head's over-sized and his ego too strong
Iceland is but the tip of the iceberg
I'm now plotting the next eruption surge
There she goes firing of again
Airports are closing, grounding more aeroplanes
Tourism again hampered by her vociferous bellows
Which is a pain in the ass for us holidaying fellows
Don't toy with my gifts; I'll be more gentle
Your fine Earthly home is but a rental
Be kind to my creatures both great and small
Perhaps my fiery heart will cool down after all
Perhaps we have been harsh shooting from the hip
It's a trait of man, it's why we self worship
We appear to have grown a streak of selfishness
As we now look around at our self made mess
A Belgium born lady of sweet refine
but an inspiration in all she overcame
emerging from the darkness of the war
to be a real star but always remain the same
Became a royal princess holidaying in Rome
this set her off to star like filming fame
Sabrina, Charade, Funny Face were four fav
her leading men hearts being cast aflame
Breakfast at Tiffany's set in Manhattan
places Audrey as the modern fashion icon
so many movies bringing rich acclaim
now just memories as Audrey's gone
Although a famous Hollywood star
loved her home among the Swiss
there her and it's beauty ideally matched
where Miss Hepburn enjoyed such bliss
A great lover of little children
did so much for those tragically poor
a real star with a human touch
Audrey an inspiration truly you are
(My tribute to my favourite star - Audrey Hepburn, who oozed class and beauty, who was truly humble and human.)
Congratulations! You have bought a new car.
May you have many joyful and memorable rides with your family!
As regards how fortunate you are
to get such a quick loan to buy the car,
Aha, ask me!
Few years back,
in all excitement and overloaded love,
I gifted my husband, umm.... a high end german car -
You see, I have faith in all German technologies-
they are strong and reliable,
'coz one of my aunts is a German.
The first year or two is pretty blissful-
Right? as it is with all ignorant fools-
happily enjoying the rides,
coyly smiling at envious eyes,
holidaying in distant places,
and paying back the loans religiously.
The third year I kept on wondering,
Oooish!....how many more left?
The fourth year I just wanted to get it off my back!
Sorry to say, but- the itch was always glued there,
no matter how much I scratched, rubbed,
mowed the back with a roller-
Oof! -I just couldn't get off the painful itch.
The final year, when a handful loans were left,
my patience was depleted,
I begged, borrowed, emptied my piggy banks,
dug out all my hidden vaults,
squeezed out the last bit to
just pay off the tortuous loan.
Plomp! I fell on the sofa,
and heaved the biggest sigh of relief!
By that time this not so young companion
had travelled many tedious miles with me,
burrowing the largest manhole-
Aha! - even ripping through my last bank account.
The next day I peered at it with raised eyebrows,
shocked to realise that it truly looked
uncomfortably older, scarred and weatherbeaten.
Honestly speaking, I was tired of it,
found flaws in it, and who wants an old hag?
I started eyeing and drooling over other beauties-
Whew!-the youngest and latest models!!
May you have many joyful and memorable rides with your family!
I was stuck in the back of a small car again,
Not enough air, raging heat, suffocating sun,
Thinking of physical exercise, freedom and poetry,
And of the French and their liberty run.
I spoke English sometimes with a speech problem,
But I always spoke French without,
So stars collided when a man on a motorbike,
Pulled up, and in French directed us with clout.
It was in Ibiza where we were holidaying,
Having persuaded mum and dad to go,
But being so confined in that car distressed me,
So I was relieved then, ‘cos French I did know.
When I journeyed out for walks on my own,
In my blue electric wheelchair so serving,
I had conversations with the locals in French,
And for me they were their smiles reserving.
Galaxy is not just in the outer world
here in this world we have a smoother kind
it's a lovely tasting chocolate
exhilarating excitement it brings to mind
It's advertisement on today’s TV
spotlights yesteryear's screen icon
instead of holidaying in Rome
screen star Audrey H is back on
Miss Hepburn was indeed a star
galaxy and Audrey a grand match
no movie ever tasted so sweet
they make a wonderful catch
Galaxy is so smooth and creamy
a product made in chocolate milk
indeed why have cotton
when you can have silk
poetgord@2013
I travelled to New York in December of that year
Flying over the Atlantic as the world began to fear
Panic was in abundance as religions declared their all
About the Mayans and 2012 for their writings depict our fall
I flew into JFK, just a Highlander holidaying loon
Booking into my hotel, unknowing of tomorrows strewn
I settled into the night, turning on the news
The channels were reporting the possible, leaving me confused
I awaken very early, it's now December the 21st
The sky appears to be yellow, like the sun has finally burst
I'm seventy stories up, and the hotels in violent shake
I hear loud drones above so it cannot be a quake
Dark shadows pass my window, although it's early morn
I start to think back to the news last night, is this earths forewarn
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-17.php