Fifty Poems - Poems about Fifty

They met back in school when perms were in style.. Now they’re fifty-seven and wickedly wild. A sisterhood forged in detention and pranks.. Now fueled by cocktails and cackles and tanks. Derani and Adrianne? Soulmates for sure.. Joined at the hip and bonded by lore. They gossip, they giggle, they drink in sync.. And dare you to challenge...

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In Iran..I hear it told beleif in islam is going cold.? Fifty thousand mosqes, shut down.? Seems the ayatolla's voices are being drowned.? What true power in Christ.? We might never know.? Yet therein lies true freedom.' Even old Rome gave Him 'A go .)...

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Trump is maintaining a frenetic pace leaving the world in a daze I don’t agree with everything he’s done but I fully support the need to do...

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You probably feel like the world is against you. This letter is for that young woman from fifty years ago. She was eighteen years old; that was me. I experienced those feelings back then, and as I look back through a reverse mirror of time, I realize that while the societal context may have changed,...

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When I was fifty-five I lost weight and got into shape Exercised to the point of near ridiculous, and looked great My daughter said “Mom! You are buff!” I had never been buff before It felt terrific. Some days I wish I was fifty-five again I was never sick, I was super healthy I felt great, and I was eating right No cookies,...

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Fifty years ago we met And haven’t killed each other yet. The only thing that I regret Is that our time is waning. We’ve raised our kids and had careers And sat with friends for meals and beers And traveled far and wide for years, With minimal complaining. He has his hobbies; I have mine And sometimes they may intertwine And grandkids add a special...

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under control  all's well in whole never better to the letter what's this mary ann open up worm can I see blonde curls flying squirrels am I insane? or, just a bird brain wait, but it's open/shut one minute wingnut I'm in the trenches taking leave of my senses open eyes light a candle she flies off the handle feelings linger she gave me the middle finger a big talker off her rocker in trouble deep losing sleep counting hallucinations and sheep twiddle digits fuss and fidget keep a tight lip take another sip or a gulp beat yourself to a pulp living hell I hope it ends well or maybe just a hiccup fifty-two pickup...

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Carry me over the threshold of home into the future of life together. Oh, Let me no more in loneliness roam through wearisome roads and stormy weather. For the road remains weary, rain still falls. These burdens we've carried did not lighten; but side by side we can handle it all, and the thunderous...

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that year when I turned fifty, we had a cause for celebration our new house was almost finished, it's had a brand new renovation when the work was finally over, and the last few touches done It's going to be our forever home, this really is the one just twelve months after moving in, our dreams went up in...

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Like your favorite ambrosian juice and long caramel series, there's always an end. Everything has an end. The arcane rainbow, the beating rain, your aching pain. Hunger is a feeling, and to conquer it, you must feed it. The strongest things are buried beneath the ground, in the dark, in the unknown and to know...

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Choosing which shade of white, drives most people up the wall. There's at least 152 shades of white to choose from. Despite being well: "Just White" It's the subtle hue, blah blah, hubris and hoo-ha, that comes to the fore. White can be darker, lighter, cooler or warmer, extra bright or dim, so so cool, boring or subdued. "Wind's Breath", "Extra White" "Moonlight...

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Turning 50 is a feeling and not an amount of years I've made it...

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June nineteenth one hundred and fifty nine years ago The conclusion of the American Civil War commenced with the articles of surrender agreement of the Army of Northern Virginia on April 9, at Appomattox Court House, by General Robert E. Lee and concluded with the surrender of the CSS Shenandoah on November 6, 1865, bringing the...

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thrust up from desert floor like a snow cone icy mountain dripping winter's lace ... Mt Lemon only fifty miles from this maze I'm threading through cracker box houses snaking sidewalks parks playgrounds groomed gravel desert trees ...barking dogs most pleasant 78 degrees I've felt in forever fifty miles and that icy mountain is another world looks so cold I don't even wanna be there gimme the groomed gravel and...

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You won't kill the spider that scurries across the floor of our living room, but you once killed solders at the Chosin. You called them gooks, then, now you know each was only a man masked by the face of dehumanizing war. After fifty years true faces turn toward you. In life you never heard their voices, in death they speak,...

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