Best Young A Poems
A long long time ago there lived a king.
His lovely daughter he’d give anything.
She walked about, jewels dripping from each hand,
talking down to all, thinking she was grand.
There was but one thing missing from her life.
But not one prince desired her for his wife.
Her personality repulsed all men.
They’d meet her once, then not see her again.
Her father found for her one rich old king
but she preferred young, handsome and charming.
One day the perfect suitor came along.
This handsome man wooed Roseanne with a song.
How beautiful his voice! How sweet his face.
A man was he of talent and of grace.
The opposite of spoiled Roseanne was he.
The king arranged their wedding anxiously!
However, no one knew from whence he came.
Though very rich, this young prince had no fame.
How was it he could even stand Roseanne,
the princess from whom all the others ran?
He had so much. Why waste it all on her?
Despite good looks, Roseanne had no allure.
One thing he asked for. This is what he said:
“Inside my castle we must both be wed.”
The wedding guests felt great relief and bliss,
for Roseanne soon would get her first true kiss!
But unbeknownst to them, the handsome man
Roseanne was marrying had his own plan.
When he was young, a witch on him had cast
a spell! It would be broken now at last!
The ceremony started. Vows were said.
The prince then raised the veil from his wife’s head.
He softly kissed her lips. Then something weird!
The castle they all stood in disappeared.
The wedding guests waist-high in water stood.
The prince changed too, and he did not look good.
His voice so beautiful became a croak.
The king stood there about to have a stroke!
The splendid castle had become a bog;
The groom leaped happily – once more a frog!
Written March 5, 2017
Entry for John Hamilton's the Best rhyming poem 3 Poetry Contest
An old man sits peacefully in deep thought
Missing teeth, milky eyes . . . leathery skin
Wind Rider his name – a shaman
The young man seethes in anger
Strong, excitable . . . limbs in constant motion
Standing Bear his name – dangerous and violent
Smoke curls lightly into the sky
A sacred moment upon the plain
Old to the young – a story
The soft voice rises . . . catches the wind
There is a battle that rages within each of us
. . . two wolfs circle each other
One is evil . . . it’s spirit is angry filled with
jealousy, sorrow, greed, arrogance, guilt
resentment, inferiority, lies . . . ego
The other wolf is good --- it’s spirit is filled with
joy, peace love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy
generosity, truth, compassion . . . faith
Each wolf is strong and howls into the night wind
Yellow-red eyes flair, deep throated-growls, bared fangs
Breathing hard they attack
Wind Rider lifts his heavy head
Feels the sun . . . waits
Standing Bear thinking . . . finally asks
Who will win?
Wind Rider smiles
The one you feed
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David Meade
11/28/2014
Live Generously
DAUGHTERS OF THE KING
Live for Jesus From A-Z
Hear Ye, Hear Ye,
Oh Daughters of the King.
From creation’s crown, to our glorious gown,
Live For Jesus From A to Z
Awake, Align, Acclimate,
Beautify, Captivate.
Dedicate,
Demonstrate,
Dance before the King!
Electrify, Enterprise.
Live a Fruitful life,
And Feminize,
Give all your Heart
Go beyond,
Harmonize, while holding on!
Hallelujah,
Illuminate joy for Jesus,
Jubilate!
Kneel before Him, Kiss the King,
Live your Life as an offering!
Marry a Man who's a godly Mate,
Make God the standard
don't negotiate!
Just Open Heart, Let Him Operate
Pray and let GOD'S Power Penetrate!
Qualify, Queen'ify,
Renew, Review, Sanctify,
Teach the Word, Don’t procrastinate
Tomorrow’s Not Promised,
It May be Too late,
Use me Jesus! Ultimate!
Visionize the Victory gate!
Win the lost!
Xtra-cate!
Yes to Jesus Youth-a-cate,
Youth renewed, Young-a-fy,
Changed In the Twinkling of an eye!
Zion’s Girls, take to the sky,
Daughters of the King!
Daddy somebody shot that man
I heard this eleven year old say
I didn't really understand at the time
I just knew a man was dead
But with the years that followed
I came to learn how much he meant
To this world in its great need
And how well that time was spent
He preached of equality he preached of peace
As he spoke of man as one
He marched his way down city streets
Facing adversity with the face of love
He was done with all the hatred
That fills so many lives
To him color was a vision
Of equality in his eyes
A life so young a life cut short
By the wicked in us all
Will you stand with me and follow him
Will you heed his righteous call
To call every man your brother
The way Martin Luther King Jr. did
To keep the vision of this visionary alive
A reality in which all mankind should live
I was that eleven year old boy so many years ago and still remember that moment I heard and told my father the news...
We even visited the tragic site where this great man lost his life that day in Memphis. The thing is he knew his days were numbered but refused to give up on equality for all people...
Happy Birthday my friend, my hero...long live your memory.
It always feels good to give
That's the way we all should live
Helping someone who's in need
Allowing the world to succeed
In being more loving and kind
Leaving hatred far behind
Lend a hand or helping shoulder
Young, a teen, or even older
Everyone has super powers
Those in times of desperate hours
Need us to use them full force
Sending troubles way off course
Making a less cloudy day
Sunshine lighting up the way
So they can move closer toward
Paying acts of kindness forward
To a soul who's lost and sad
Remembering they too once had
A secret hero to make sure
The worse days are now pure
And full of loving happiness
Now passing it to the rest
Of the world one at a time
Our earths help meter will soon climb
A full 100 percent
Hand in hand we can invent
A place to live without the sorrow
Looking at a bright tomorrow
Can’t catch em
Outlived my time
Click of eyes, no chime
Still young a bantam rooster
Old people seem to lose the rhyme
Can’t catch em like I u-ster
To walk alone it is my path
Lonesome on the fringe
Time sometimes brings a merry laugh
But who am I to whinge
A kiss for lovers in the mist
A cuddle neath the stars
The right one have I maybe missed
Neath Jupiter and Mars
But onward ever onward
To quest and often fail
Knight errant fearless undeterred
He seeks the Holy Grail
I met him when so young, a crush, a love
on silky words I hung
they just slid smooth off his tongue
now, a memory among
___________________________
February 17, 2020
Poetry/Englyn Quatrain/A Crush, A Love
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1226-288-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
ENGLYN is a quatrain from Welsh poetry of 30 syllables in four lines
10,6,7,7. The sixth syllable of line one annouces the rhyme, the last
syllable of succeeding three lines rhyme with it.(The final syllable of
line one is without rhyme). The content often has an enigmatic quality.
Written for F F I Blog Series 75- Englyn
Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
Death of my Friend
Found was the key to heaven's door
this pain I can bear no more
The shadows that eat my long nights
the guilt of that deadly fight
Ages ago tragedy came sailing in
took the life of you my friend
A drunken party that went so wrong
our lives becoming a sad song
I begged you to not dare drive
if you done so you'd be alive
My guilt in not forcing you back
you car hit on that train track
Death came instantly to my friend
for me pain that will never end
I backed down when you hit me then
your funeral I'd not had to attend
You that always got your own way
should have never died that sad day
Now I see your fate was meant to be
you died young, a soul early set free!
Robert Lindley
note: Death of my friend. I tried to stop him
but not hard enough.Too drunk to safely drive but
when so young we thought we were ten feet tall and
bullet proof!
Maybe we were but just not speeding train proof..
Rather than knock him out I let him go.
Car was hit by a train and death was immediate..
Twenty-one is too young to go..
The first big family vacation, it was all so new
Mom found a dream ranch, a so-called “dude”
The kids were so young, a daughter not yet two
Our son only four, wanting to ride with the crew
Rafting, riding, and a real Mountain Man too,
This vacation was a hit - who knew?
As the years go by, we’ve made many friends
But over time this special week transcends
As families grow, things change
It can’t be helped, not really strange
Truth be told, our hearts aren’t ready
To agree on a change, on that we’re unsteady
Because memories are priceless, we’ll soon not forget
The ranch rodeos, Fat-Bat baseball games, and the brunch ride silhouette..
Of our annual family picture on a mountain out West,
Every year showing our kid’s growth, we are very blessed
It’s not with sadness that I write about when this might end
For it will surely open up a new door or trend
For as long as your heart, your family, and your thoughts don’t scatter
Where you go on vacation really doesn’t matter
Beach, mountains, wherever, one really shouldn’t mind
As long as you’re together, the time spent can be sublime
Oh, there are gripes, moans, and argument; it’s part of the quest
But I wouldn’t miss it, for who would have guessed
That in time as with all things, it too will naturally end
As children grow up and add their family blend
But If our good fortune continues we’ll be part of what’s next
In the knowledge that our time together is a gift not a test
Can you see his steel blue eyes?
measuring you up for size
Gun placed low around his hips
A cigar hangs from his lips
He moves slow and yet he's fast
Those who challenged didn't last
Coffins lined up at the door
Now the losers are no more
You are young a little brash
He seeks honor you seek cash
In the end one will remain
Men choose paths that lead to pain
Young and quick you take your chance
Sadly it's your final dance
He shoots you right between the eyes
You're dead before you realize
From his eye a tear does fall
He doesn't look quite as tall
He just turns and walks away
Another Cowboy's lost today
Shadow's Cowboy Contest
Through the jungles of sick suburbia
He lustfully stalked his prey.
She was only young, a child of just ten
That he took and brutally feasted on.
Savage desires within compelled him
To befriend the pretty Grace;
She so died by his hand, cannibalistic
Urges he boasted were his thrill.
When spring is here,
Baseball is near.
Nigh April 1,
Season’s begun.
Opening day
‘Cross USA.
From Young(1) to Spahn(2),
Pitchers were drawn.
The Babe(3) or Hank(4)
Home runs they’d crank.
Hits by Cobb(5), Mays(6)
Filled summer days.
Decades of games,
Other stars’ names.
Legends in fall;
Baseball—good call!
Footnotes:
(1) Denton True “Cy” Young, a right-handed pitcher who played for teams in
the National League and American League between 1890 and 1911, won
more games (511) than any other person in U.S. Major League history.
U.S. Major League Baseball’s top award for pitchers is named after him.
(2) Warren Edward Spahn, a left-handed pitcher who played for several teams
in the National League between 1942 and 1965, won more games (363)
than any other lefty in U.S. Major League history, despite missing three
full seasons (1943-45) serving with distinction in the U.S. Army during
World War II.
(3) A reference to George Herman “Babe” Ruth Jr., who hit 714 career home
runs (HRs) between 1915 and 1935 while playing for teams in the National
League and American League.
(4) Henry Louis “Hank” Aaron hit 755 round-trippers (HRs) between 1954
and 1976 while playing for teams in the National League and American
League.
(5) Tyrus Raymond “Ty” Cobb accumulated at least 4,189 hits (second all-time
in U.S. Major League history) playing in the American League from 1905
until 1928.
(6) Willie Howard Mays Jr. collected 3,283 hits playing in the National League
from 1951 until 1973.
Dating my first love, hearing Elvis sing
"It's now or never come hold me tight"
A handsome young Kennedy on TV springs
The youngest president with views left wing
Destined to die too young, a young bride's fright
Dating my first love, hearing Elvis sing
Married to my first love, a baby rings
There is a murder in our young sight
A handsome young Kennedy on TV springs
A young bride crawling away as if she has wings
A baby boy kicks with all his strong might
Dating my first love, hearing Elvis sing
In the sixties young love into marriage zings
Hope for a different future takes flight
A handsome young Kennedy on TV springs
Sudden end to hopes and dreams death did bring
Deep down in the spirit a seed planted alright
Dating my first love, hearing Elvis sing
A handsome young Kennedy on TV springs
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Contest: Decades
To me my meeting my future husband and my marriage then children was
an important part of the sixties but of course only to us did it really matter.
Leftwing defined: members of a liberal or radical political party, or those
favoring extensive political reform..
Leftwing origin in the political sense in the first half of the 1800s where
in European legislatures the seating practice to seat those holding liberal
views were assigned the left side of the house..It also had use in military..
When I was young, a book was given me:
a small book with the title "Those Who Love."
Its female author I knew nothing of -
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.
Gentle, practical and solitary,
Sara was in love with nature and
understood the things in life most grand;
this dreamer poetess wrote beautifully!
She’d grown up reading poems of Emily,
Barrett Browning, Bronte and Rossetti.
A modern woman, wishing to be free -
this dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.
Her writing had a lyric quality.
I loved her metaphors and similies.
I sensed within her poems - untold stories.
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.
Her poems were crafted with lucidity,
for poetry confusing she’d not do.
Her type of writing influenced mine too.
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.
A love impossible she fittingly
portrayed, for “contradiction” was her life.
Conflicted, she could not remain a wife.
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.
She’d known a time of popularity:
A Pulitzer for "Love Songs" she received.
Then came her father’s death and how she grieved.
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.
Depressed and frail, she planned her destiny,
requesting notes to loved ones all be burned.
We cannot truly know for what she yearned.
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.
Did Sara Teasdale end her misery
when she put herself to sleep? Who can say?
Regardless. . . I shall think of her one way:
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully!
Written 11/14/10
Daddy somebody shot that man
I heard this eleven year old say
I didn't really understand at the time
I just knew a man was dead
But with the years that followed
I came to learn how much he meant
To this world in its great need
And how well that time was spent
He preached of equality he preached of peace
As he spoke of man as one
He marched his way down city streets
Facing adversity with the face of love
He was done with all the hatred
That fills so many lives
To him color was a vision
Of equality in his eyes
A life so young a life cut short
By the wickedness in us all
Will you stand with me and follow him
Will you heed his righteous call
To call every man your brother
The way Martin Luther King Jr. did
To keep the vision of this visionary alive
A reality in which all mankind should live