Long Adaptability Poems
Long Adaptability Poems. Below are the most popular long Adaptability by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Adaptability poems by poem length and keyword.
In the marathon of life, we run with grit,
In the sprint of moments, we dash with grace.
In the relay of generations, we pass the baton.
Our legs pump like pistons, hearts our engines,
Our breath is the fuel that fires our journey.
We run through valleys of shadow and doubt,
We run over hills of triumph and joy,
We run beside rivers of tears and laughter.
Our feet leave imprints on the track of time,
Our sweat waters the flowers of our dreams.
Our second wind always waits in the wings,
Our hidden reserves hover just out of sight,
Our untapped strength lurks beneath the surface.
We inhale determination, exhale fatigue,
We drink from the well of perseverance.
We're strong enough to move mountains,
We're powerful enough to shift paradigms,
We're mighty sufficient to forge our paths.
Our will carves canyons through fields of impossibility,
Our resolve erodes the stones of obstacles.
But gentle enough to embrace butterflies,
But tender enough to nurture hope's delicate seeds,
But soft enough to cushion a fallen comrade.
Our hands, calloused from life's rough road,
Our touch is a balm for the world-weary soul.
We pace ourselves for the long haul,
We stride purposefully towards distant horizons,
We leap over hurdles that bar our way.
Our race is not always to the swift,
Our victory lies in the running itself.
So we lace up our shoes of courage,
So we stretch our muscles of resilience,
So we warm up our joints of adaptability.
Our course may wind, our path may twist,
Our destination: the finish line of our potential.
From side to side;
the smile of the morning sun,
and the cool of the midnight moon,
amidst the sparky stars.
I grin like a Cheshire cat.
as I seat underneath Divinity’s love for the globe;
the Soft breezes blow from odorous meadows
I get filled up with
nostalgic memories,
Oh! the good old days.
my dark brown eyes,
the dark youthful skin,
my frizzy youthful hair.
Everything retreated from me.
Oh! the good sweet old days,
Am now ancient,
My never ending epistemophilia and
wish to give the young people optimism.
my adaptability be exhume,
and live among the folk.
Change cannot be paused,
it’s an automatic,
it needs not your consent to transpire.
Wreathed in smiles,
about my then and now;
I go to slumber like
a bird singing on the tree.
I’ve tasted of life’s sweet wine.
The world's been in the dumpster forever
An intolerable state of affairs
Isn't it about time we changed our ways
It's badly in need of repairs
Let's start a pact to end our disputes
Some think it's beyond possibility
Need somebody to step up to the plate
Us humans have great adaptability
Think I just heard a scoff or two
Now that's been a part of the problem
If we all just put aside our differences
We'd be much more able to solve them
Probably sound like a big ole know-it-all
To me, it just makes common sense
Adapt or it's curtains for all human kind
Must do something in any event
Mother Nature Cries
Mother Nature cries now her deep tears of true sadness,
For all the years of Man’s sad shame and utter madness.
Man has brought this lovely lady quite often to tears,
By his poor and pathetic care of our Earth over the years.
Mother Nature’s been with Man now it seems forever,
And he does nothing at all and always tells her never!
Man’s climate sins are so tragic and always most telling,
And all he does is ***** and moan, and keeps on yelling!
Man’s span of existence is short in our Earth’s long life,
And all he’s done is corrupt, pollute and caused her strife!
Mother Nature cries at this sad tragedy Man has thus wrought;
She knows his life on Earth may be short, and learn he’ll Not!
Mother Nature will adapt and evolve over time with no problem,
And she knows Man’s adaptability to change may be a problem.
Perhaps Man will learn this sad lesson here before all is too late,
And seek climate harmony in all he does and make positive his Fate!
Mother Nature cries—yet this can change with Man’s redemption,
If Man becomes Earth’s Good Steward and lives by God’s direction!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved - May 3, 2015
(Rhymed Couplet)
*Originally completed for my new book on February 12, 2015.
Vera Selena (Osburn) Hinshaw - June 4, 1935 - July 19, 2018
Thank you, dear Vera, for nearly 66 years of marital bliss!
How I cherished our time together; you, my love, I truly miss.
Ours was a priceless partnership based on mutual trust,
Meeting challenges amiably when upon us they were thrust.
You were my beautiful bride, my joy and my pride.
I always felt so comfortable with you ever at my side.
Diamonds gleamed in your eyes when we pledged our eternal love;
There's no doubt our life together was ordained by Heaven above!
How your eyes sparkled when cuddling our babes at birth!
Of your love for them (and least deserving me), there was no dearth.
You were the glue that held our wonderful family together,
Through the vicissitudes of life, in fair and stormy weather.
It takes a very special lady to be an ideal Air Force wife,
To face the many challenges and hardships of military life.
You made our house a home whether in the states or foreign lands.
I marveled at your adaptability and left things in your capable hands.
I still thank God every day for making you my wife,
And that you will ever be, throughout eternal life.
When I reach the end of the trail and complete my earthly quest,
With my very last breath I can happily say, "I was truly blessed!
[Poet’s Notes : Geckos are flexible, able to thrive in most situations. They symbolise transformation & resilience due to their ability to detach, then regrow their tails. Losing their tail is a metaphor for shedding old habits, fears, or burdens that no longer serve. As omen, they represent good luck, adaptability, a reminder to shed the past, rebuild, moving forward after setbacks. In many cultures, geckos are signs of positive protection.]
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“With renewal comes guardianship ~ an inner strength to both hold the past whilst not being defined by it.” ~ Poet
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Gecko appeared on white wall
tail shadow flickering fall
amber leaves crack autumn’s cue
shows transmutation is due ~
Regeneration is name
my chosen professed good game
power healings signal luck
old scales peel burning in muck
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Placed 5th : Standard Contest
March 26 : Sponsor: Charles Messina
Crunch
by Michael R. Burch
A cockroach could live nine months on the dried mucous you scrounge from your nose
then fling like seedplants to the slowly greening floor ...
You claim to be the advanced life form, but, mon frere,
sometimes as you snatch encrusted kinks of hair from your Leviathan ass
and muse softly on zits, icebergs snap off the Antarctic.
You’re an evolutionary quandary, in need of a sacral ganglion
to control your enlarged, contradictory hindquarters:
surely the brain should migrate closer to its primary source of information,
in order to ensure the survival of the species.
Cockroaches thrive on eyeboogers and feces;
their exoskeletons expand and gleam like burnished armor in the presence of uranium.
But your cranium
is not nearly so adaptable.
“Crunch” is a poem about evolution and survival of the fittest which questions where human beings really are the planet earth’s most advanced life forms. Keywords/Tags: evolution, global warming, climate change, pollution, insect, insects, cockroach, cockroaches, advance life form, survival of the fittest, adaptability, animal, animals, environment, world, America
Reminder to speak truth
Truths be told, weather's whether prone;
Thoughts provoking we must be found;
"truths" be spoken;
We must be slow to speak always...unbroken;
Speak Father's truth
Always
Authenticity truths spoken, truths be told;
Mindfulness thoughts provoking;
Self-control slow to speak spoken;
Divine guidance Speak Father's truth;
Absolutes;
Speak honestly and wisely;
Reflect before speaking;
Align words with divine truth;
Weather's whether prone" suggests adaptability;
Speak Father's truth" emphasizes divine authority;
11/2/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2024
Scripture Referencing;
Proverbs 10:32: "Lips of righteousness know truth."
- James 1:19: "Slow to speak, swift to hear."
- Psalm 19:14: "May words be acceptable in Your sight."
oh, ladybug, beloved insect
gentle, colorful beetles
with sweet red-and-black spots
delightful winged wonders
omens of good things to come
with spiritual messages if you believe
wish fulfillment
protection
renewal and transformation
adaptability
love
and positive things
and if you don't believe
ladybugs will eradicate your garden pests
“If you actually succeed in creating a utopia, you’ve created a world without conflict in which everything is perfect. And if there is no conflict, there are no stories worth telling – or reading”
~ Veronica Roth
How boring could Utopia be
if we all did agree,
and if perfection is all we see?
That’s not a place I want to lee.
.
I relish cultures of variety
in and out mainstream society.
The freedom of unpredictability
is a sign of one’s individuality.
There is excitement in running free.
Or just being here, alone with me,
yields a sense of commonality
surrounding all with sodality.
Utopia is not found in impeccability
but rather in life’s fragility.
We make too much of predictability
when there is no absolute sterility.
Utopia is not humankind’s normality
but rather it’s in its adaptability.
Acceptance without impunity
may well-describe society’s community.