Best Reception Poems
Thank you for the love you shared
Thank you for the time you spared
Thank you for the effort you made
Thank you for the support you gave
Thank you for picking me up when I fell
Thank you for your sincerity
But most of all thank you for teaching me
Respect, Forgiveness and Honesty.
A Welcome Reception
or Receptionist and a Poetry Recital
Take care of dolls and put them on display
And a story each one will have to say
About the time there was such a hush
Because their teeth they forgot to brush.
They were all afraid to smile anymore
Gums were starting to get mighty sore
And soon a cavity appeared in each tooth
Not unusual but unfair and very uncouth.
Receptionist such a sweet smiling was wearing
For her teeth religiously is always caring
You should have a smile that looks like mine
She said after her and my eyes would entwine.
Could hardly breathe when I saw her teeth
Brushed all around, on and gums underneath
Then a tremendous thought to me occurs;
God, make my teeth look as good as hers.
I can see my dentist's receptionist smiling and
laughing and eyes twinkling right now as she
reads this. Will be seeing them next Tuesday
but forgot what time. Oh, and is the coffee
water warm yet? When do you want to hear
my dental poetry recital?
Jim Horn
Her single bouquet
of white roses
slowly expire,
in a cheap crystal vase,
atop a dust-laden
bookshelf.
Petals crying
a lover’s lament
are overheard by
out-patients of Eros
and other
nameless receivers.
She scrapes
her flushed face
against the claws
of a stuccoed wall.
Hidden cutlery
shares space
with buried photographs.
Scores of broken nails
and bleached hair follicles
float so neatly
in rusty brass tureens
filled with tears
of disgust.
Cursing pervades
heavy black corners,
piercing ozone canvas –
breaking codes
of respected silence
and calm.
Desirable wishes
remain empty
and pitifully abandoned;
a Levolor drawn
across the sun’s eyes.
She yelps
a mournful vendetta
against an elusive fate
and a cheated Genesis.
A regurgitated revenge -
a counter play towards
many things…
Inclement weather
and rain-slicked lanes
speeding Hummers
and Hennessey -
chauffeurs and Chivas -
as a limousine bids farewell
to a church filled with ecstatic
onlookers.
Wedding Reception
We’ll settle by the bar and watch
the women dance, then split a likely
pair, when we think we stand a chance.
I’ve one eye on the bridesmaid, with
the skirt that’s riding high – showing
off the daisies, tattooed upon
her thigh.
The groom is still hung-over;
can’t find the pregnant bride. She dodged
into the box-room – best-man by
her side.
Mothers-in-law are screaming,
‘war,’ handbags all-aflail. Uncle
Jack is on his back. George is green
and frail.
So we’ll linger here and
guzzle beer, till the barman calls
the time. Then make a play for a
pair who sway – join the pantomime...
...Hope you like the big one, with the
bird’s nest in her hair. Because I’m
heading for the bridesmaid, with the
skirt that’s riding high, showing off
the daisies...
Oh, jacket-face with zipper tugged tight,
please offer your brilliance. Share your light!
I beg your leg to tap indignant
to halt that spread of ice malignant:
rattle those cells to agitation
or watch me snap from such stagnation!
Reception At The Heavenly Destination
( Tribute to- The Last Journey.)
Home far away in that shrinking mist of light
this moment is for earthly mortal passing
Up ahead glows a brilliant golden Heavenly sight
one that any imagination fails in surpassing.
Well, the big gate opens, music hits my ears
I feel the angels now serenely flying
Here rests no sin, anger, hate or earthly fears
Truth living here banished all the lying.
Trumpets are now sounding, soft blasts that sing
joy and laughter now invading this soul
All is faith and love in a huge blazing golden ring
high above us, a throne on Holy hill's knoll
Earth and its memories now seen in a new light
pain and sorrow sent forever far away
All is sweet daylight, banished is dark of night
"Our Savior's Welcome" tis' all the angels say!
"Approach my son", booms out from throne on the hill.
Your soul is most welcome, as it is my Father's will!
Robert J. Lindley, 08-21-2015
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Written as promised to Peter, my tribute to his great poem,
The poem above was inspired by Peter Duggan's great poem,
from his most recent poetry book,
titled -The Last Journey......
The Last Journey
I am going home , my song is over
The actor rests, his time has come
I am going to cross that mystic river
And gaze upon that clear bright sun.
Well I can hear the whisper calling
And telling me "your time has come"
The image dies the mask is falling
No more the many, there's just the one.
As energy is dissipating
All worldly cares they wilt to nil
There's no more wrath , there's no more hating
There is no thing just a space so still.
I say goodbye to all who knew me
But do not grieve me when I'm gone
I'll rest in peace my friends but someday
I'll come again to sing my song.
Peter Duggan
A couple got married in the Winter Wonderland
For the reception they hired a mariachi band
They danced a Spanish jig,
Then left in a borrowed rig
Stiffing the poor caterer because the food was bland.
written December 23, 2021
Chants ranting
rants chanting
narcissistic voices
deliciously pounding
Vicarious words
devilishly dancing
choruses spewing
copious chords
Muses climax
narcotic pleasure
poets revel
feeling hypnotic drums
Poetic coitus
lend me your ear
cry havoc
the Virgin Mary is hear
Can't get my station
Static driving me crazy!
No good reception
Got radio blues
And my tape deck's broken too
No CD player
What's a guy to do
When his music won't come through?
I guess I'll just sing!
Mum said "birds of a feather flock together"
so I searched for a man who liked similar weather
until Dad stressed "opposites attract"
and I tried to determine just what I lacked
"Small packages", Mum said, "held the best things"
so I looked for a humble guy with diamond rings
until Dad said I should find a real go-getter
because it's a fact "the bigger the better"
When I fancied a guy from amongst the herds
Mum said "action speaks louder than words"
but Dad said this advice should be ignored
because "the pen is mightier than the sword"
Mum believed men should be kept closely entwined
because of the saying "out of sight out of mind"
Dad urged I give them space and make them ponder
because "absence makes the heart grow fonder"
I worried how I'd react to being charmed
Mum emphasized "forewarned is forearmed"
The male perspective gave my ego a hit –
Dad said "cross that bridge if you come to it"
When I found love the saying Mum liked to push
was "one in the hand's worth two in the bush"
Dad said "there's always time to be the faithful wife"
and persuaded me "variety was the spice of life"
I struggled at courting and was getting old
but "you're never too old to learn" I was told
However my confidence was hit for a six
when Dad said "you can't teach an old dog new tricks"
"If first you don't succeed try, try again"
this was Mum's attitude toward courting men
Dad's radically differed of course –
he told me not to "flog a dead horse"
My parent's advice couldn't have been sounder
for I found a genuine all rounder
but I hope he can live with the reality
I now have a split personality.
How many times will you stop acting free
Just to please a perspective?
Always on the lookout for that peculiar spectator,
confining life to be so subjective.
Indulging in such a slender code of morality.
Even a wild youth is tied to the principles of an unbecoming age.
Sharing the social state of make believe tranquility.
A shallow mind consumes all and thrusts life into a daze
But still no one to realize life is too short for all these ordeals.
Every minute detail too irrelevant yet judged.
All the aspects of a fragile life lost to the worlds ideals.
So never mind the reception, then maybe the cornerstones of civilization will budge.
There is no fireplace
in your room
so I cannot come up;
still, the borders of your smile
eclipse my ambivalence,
warn of belatedness.
I journey home
and slip into sleep
fix my gaze into nightspace,
linger half-awake,
remember your whispers
when we were seventeen.
I found myself in a real bad pickle
my lady thinks I'm cheap to the nickel,
so I told her I would spend
but she screamed, "This is the end."...
Mad at, "Your boobs droop like an icicle!"
If I am not here to see
Let him in, my little chickadee
If the bell rings twice it’s a pair
Don’t shut them out, its’ not fair
If I don’t hear this little bird
He’ll fly away, not leaving a word,
From whence he came, it’s unclear
I could not see and could not hear.
If by evening he does not appear
First thing in the morning he’ll be here
Spread of food just waiting for him
Others are welcomed, no matter when.
Two doves gobbling up the food
Maybe sweethearts, in a good mood.
Finches and sparrows waiting on deck
Juncos on the ground, sunflower to peck.
Darting woodpeckers head for the suet
Nuthatches serenade in a splendid duet,
Crows line up on the upper tree branches
Anticipating what they might have for chances.
No special day or a reunion gathering here
It’s always open throughout the year,
No brunch menu or table for two
Just good manners and no tip due.
They will come in early just before their flight
Gobble up some grub and dash out of sight.
On occasion they will sing me a tune
Hummingbirds should arrive any day soon.
Some will stay awhile and make some chatter
Others will get in line and fill up their platter,
A hearty feast, according to my perceptions
There’ll always be room, without any exceptions.
Who in attendance devoted the most skill and caring to honor the veterans seated in the front row? Was it law enforcement showing tolerance giving veterans the benefit of the doubt in situations not too serious no damage to property or person? Was it the mayor reading from a prepared speech not words spoken spontaneously from deep within? Was it the village officials making their appearance but not really knowing what it is like to walk a mile in the combat boots of veterans seated in the front row? No, none of the above in my opinion. Rather it was a woman, with a crown of grey hair now white, that might have been a halo? She was a master of her craft baking treats that excited pallets far and wide amazing all.Despite a food allergy she couldn’t taste to judge her wares Hers was the greatest gift honoring those who sacrificed all.in faraway lands coming back sometime not so tall