Late Poems | Examples

Five Days Late

Five days late…
His birthday almost forgot-
but not quite…

The hurt lingered deep.

A small package arrived
addressed to him--
Special
from Dad.

Inside: a watch.
A big boy gift,
for sure.

Gold and bright,
crystal light,
backstamped RollX--
a boy’s treasure,
for sure

Too large for his wrist.
No matter.
He would grow tall,
just like his Dad.

The watch was perfect,
just like it was,

Worn each day with pride--
a symbol 
of genuine love and dedication…

How priceless 
he was in Dad’s eyes…

Proof.

Scratches 
and a flaking finish 
didn’t matter.
Neither did 
the crack across the face,
or the fact 
that it always read 
a bit after two.

A good polish--
and it was 
good as new.

Like the day 
he got it.

Five days late.

Corporation Blues

Everyone has their ups and downs
sometimes you win sometimes you lose
come to a crossroads there's no knowing
which is the best path to choose
funny how the way to work gets longer every day
while the road to you is shorter by a mile
it don't make me late it's not the job I hate
and thoughts of you always always make me smile
but about my boss there's really nothing nice to say
with his workers working hard at not working at all
my co-workers shirkers lurkers each and every one
but then I have you to look forward to
when the daily race is run
and the working day is done
everyone has their ins and outs
some days are good some days are bad
go out on a limb and there's no telling
it may be the best day you ever had
everyone wants a happy ending
and I look forward to our rendezvous
my heart knows which route to go
it only shows the road to you

Premium Member is it too late?

years have taken their toll
that's how we roll
we do our very best
and let go of the rest
we watch our life go by
and try our best not to cry
the world is in bad shape
i'm choking on a sour grape



AP: 2nd place 2025


Premium Member Evenings in late september

autumn rolled in like honey
how we loved savouring those warm sunsets
sweet together memories of romance



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Premium Member Too Late, Time's Up

Too late...for first impressions 

Too late...for last reflections 

Too late...for long discussions 

Too late...for lost objections

Too late...for mending fences

Too late...for new romances

Too late...to pay the Piper

Too late...for second chances

Too late!!!

It ain't too late

It started off so well, so good,
Every language we spoke, understood.
Forever, we thought, it would last,
Yet somehow, those moments slipped past.

We carried happy souls inside,
But now we ride a different tide.
To make amends, it’s not too late,
Yet pride keeps tossing feelings like fate.

Yes, things aren’t well, yet we let them slide,
Waiting for truth, while we choose what to hide.
We listen to what we want to hear,
Even when the answers are crystal clear.

You’ve been hurt, called names, misunderstood,
Yet here you remain—resilient, and good.
I know I’ve done things I cannot undo,
Actions and words you never knew.

But not all that’s spoken tells the truth,
Some are lies, some shadows of youth.
As the saying goes, though friends may stay,
Not all hearts wish us well along the way.


Premium Member The Thrill Of A Late Summer

visions of children shrieking on clogged shores,
warm swirling gusts topple gaunt sand castles,
games galore thrive in weather dry and bright,
family fun fair gasp and sheer delight,
yet summer’s warm hue festoon tapers off,
whilst journeyed beehive swarm near blue lagoon,
dip their toes in sunny moss fleck torrents,
others seize their madcap visceral thrill,
from dashing down mint green meadows as that,
August time frame segues into autumn

Premium Member In realms of dreams, where magic is born in the late evening hour

In realms of dreams, where magic is born in the late evening hour,
A hidden paradise in whispers and in the descending moonlight's power.
Beautiful settings, love like an old perfume, beyond description,
Amber eyes burning with vows in the fire of a dream's depiction.
On this earth, seductive and full of love, we lose our senses completely,
Shadows of the past dance with longing, reminding us of love sweetly.
The summer night binds us in sweet kisses and uninterrupted whispers,
How many memories hide in words, how many unseen longings it whispers.
We lose ourselves in time, carried by the wind singing eternity's song,
The enchanted soul flies like a bird seeking freedom all along.
Sweet smiles on corners of dreams, painted in rainbow hues that last,
The sweet torment remains forever, like an echo of unending longing from the past.
Night of dreams, lost paradise, sweet love that envelops us with ease,
We, lost and dreaming, with hearts full of immortal longing to seize.

Thrill of Late Summer

The noon heat no longer burns like dog days,
Storms now caress the leaves with care and grace,
The roughness of summer night kept at bay,
'Stead calmness, peace and comfort take their place.

The air is hazy, lazy, filled with fun,
Awaiting the chill and darkness of fall,
Now missing kisses of mid-summer's sun,
And cricket's early morning rasping call.

The sky billows brilliant blue with glamour,
The ocean's coolness purifies the air,
Tempting sunbaths silently clamour
For my pale skin on the beach to bask bare.

Premium Member Thrill of Late Summer

his lips slipped upon mine; into dreaming
in the satellite of fall's chaste shadows
sphered by the last cast of summer streaming
onto our free skin, sunk in the shallows
our first kisses, our first mature outlet
for a latent love now bursts in our ears
from seeds sown in spring's bosom, mere trinket
our little love, hedging, a nest appears
underneath the wakeful sun, its pure heat
receding; displaced by the chatoyance
of autumnal leaves waltzing where we'll meet
singing, unfazed, at the cold's arrogance

Premium Member Thrill of Late Summer

Written: August 09, 2025, for contest SEASONS NOW AND AFTER Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud

           ************

Aurora sheds her velvet, gleaming flame,
Dusk with iridescent shades fills the air.
Molten winds trick hearts in taking a game,
Grooved meadows grant obedient despair. 

The alabaster clouds sparkle with grace,
Empyrean dreams appease the reek ache.
Fertile roots stir zymotic in their place,
Anodyne stars at triptych kindly break. 

The swarm is a hive of busy tough bees,
Pavonine clouds, incarnadine with thrill.
Multivocal leaves—ethereal, breeze—,
Rapture in desiccation, soft and still.

Premium Member THRILL OF LATE SUMMER

SEASONS NOW AND AFTER Poetry Contest
Nette Onclaud
8/8/25

As summer winds to an end, there's a pitch
Summer's last breath rocks with school-aged kids
Soon, the air will be filled with excitement
Like hens racing for corn at feeding time
College kids are racing off to their schools
With the new school year, friendships are renewed
Back-to-school shopping and clothes are noted
On-campus parties under the radar
Drawn lines in the sands, aphrodisiacs 
And heaps of gossip, stories, rear their head
This yearly song finds all school kids singing
The thrill of late summer, school, brings sweet dreams

Premium Member Thrill of Late Summer

Lying in between seasons is a pause,
To look at what's gone on, what's to become.
In Fall, dreading Summer's last curtain call.
In Spring, vaulting to cheer Winter's demise.
The quad-cycle ride brings its surprises.
It taunts, haunts with clockwork compromises-
When we wake up before the alarm sounds,
Or press snooze, to linger on dreams instead.
Drowning the questions never posed nor asked,
Of why shadows shrink when midday is poised.
Or why they're seen at night when sun has flown.
Who steers this whim and flit of sun's time-span?

The Late Hulk Hogan

He was a wrestler but he died and he's gone for eternity.
He was a WWE Hall of Famer and he starred in Rocky III.
He had giant muscles and Hulk Hogan was his name.
He has perished and the WWE will never be the same.
Hogan was one hell of a wrestler and an actor as well.
This man had a terrific career, he was bound to excel.
Hogan had two children, he had a daughter and a son.
We've lost a wrestling icon at the age of seventy-one.


[Dedicated to Hulk Hogan (1953-2025) who died on July 24, 2025]

Premium Member Late Winter Surprise

Heart-shaped box of chocolates, late Winter surprise.
See sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes.

She knows him now, all too well, every inch of him.
This sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes.

A straight and narrow arrow flew from Cupid’s bowstring.
Struck sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes.

He had to open them then - cause and effect of love.
This sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes.

She was unexpected, for his fancy was charming.
Grins sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes.

On the date set, another sailor came to make claim.
Shocked sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes.

Oh poor boy…poor, poor sailor boy was a contestant.
Watch sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes.

Wouldn’t you know it…yes…his heart, branded by a poet.
Her sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes.

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