Long Apiece Poems
Long Apiece Poems. Below are the most popular long Apiece by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Apiece poems by poem length and keyword.
John 2: 1-12
21st Century King James Version
2 And on the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there;
2 and both Jesus and His disciples were called to the marriage.
3 And when they lacked wine, the mother of Jesus said unto Him, “They have no wine.”
4 Jesus said unto her, “Woman, what have I to do with thee? Mine hour is not yet come.”
5 His mother said unto the servants, “Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it.”
6 And there were set there six waterpots of stone, according to the manner of the purifying of the Jews, holding twenty to thirty gallons apiece.
7 Jesus said unto them, “Fill the waterpots with water.” And they filled them up to the brim.
8 And He said unto them, “Draw some out now, and bear it unto the governor of the feast.” And they took it.
9 When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, not knowing from whence it had come (but the servants who drew the water knew), the governor of the feast called the bridegroom
10 and said unto him, “Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine, and when men have drunk well, then that which is worse; but thou hast kept the good wine until now.”
11 This beginning of miracles Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth His glory; and His disciples believed in Him.
12 After this He went down to Capernaum, He and His mother and His brethren and His disciples; and they continued there a few days.
Look at verse 3 and 5 again. Read it several times. Think about it. Ponder on it. Why would His mother tell Him they had run out of wine? What had she seen and heard from Him from the time even before He was born? Had He performed miracles all His life? Did He only start performing miracles at age 12? Did Jesus' mother know that Jesus would be able to handle the situation no matter what? Think on these things and come up with some of your own.
Our father who art in Heaven
Hallowed be thy name …
Please grant us the attainment of world peace
Please take the homeless ones off the streets
May men and women have plenty apiece
Children, their fair share of peanuts and sweets
May sickness be far from me, mine, hers and his
May good health be in abundance
May beautiful flowers and majestic trees
Create atmospheres for the sun’s dance
Keep famine and pestilence away
Let our barns and silos be full in stock
Keep hunger and starvation at bay
Make our aged as strong as a rock
May ours be an egalitarian society
Where everyone has the means to their ends
May ours be a classless economy
On which profit per person’s desire depends
May our roads be free of accidents
Our earth from natural disasters
May our vehicles get no scratches and dents
That they may gleam under the light of the stars
Keep our r0ads free from hazards
The streets, safe and secure from hoodlums
May we never encounter witches nor wizards
Who’ll, from our farms, steal berries and plums
May we all get passes to the gates of Heaven
Regardless of multiplicity of religions
That all may attain the perfection of seven
And be one with the angels and legions
Amen…
My neighbors and friends were astounded
Many had doubted, did not think it could be done
However with my dandelion-generated motor
I began to show them how, and it was incredibly fun.
You just add dandelions! They said incredulously.
That is right, I assured them as they sipped their tea.
We had brought in the neighbors, the doubters too.
We were demonstrating my new auto-engine. I had painted it blue.
Just ordinary everyday dandelions? Yellow humdrum?
Found in yards all over the world? Asked a man wearing a mask.
I nodded, and if you run out of gas, just pick some.
Will the people charge us for them? One idiot asked.
I nodded and laughed, and my six driving-age children nodded too.
For we had built each of them cars out of bits of junk yard stuff and glue.
The total cost to us was around two hundred and sixteen dollars apiece.
So my dandelion-engine put-together car was featured from here to Greece.
Serenading you with my sincerity
assembling praises in your name
your one glance falls in place
a thousand emotions it resurrects.
Dawn is the new dusk
you pretend and wave it off
but the beauty in it
like an elephant without a tusk.
I wander to find peace
to render apologies apiece
my state of mind eloquent of a mirage
and I stay true to this farce
reality sickens me to the core
bringing redundant conversations to the fore.
Dredging up new barriers
setting up new boundaries.
Parsing life stuck at this juncture
now I run slower
and a lot less hunger
our differences like embers
time smouldered them
now settled beneath the ashes forever
still flickering by power of faith
memories waiting for someone to remember.
Mr. Franklin "coined" that old saw, "A penny saved is a penny earned!"
I mused upon that fabled adage and for the olden days I yearned.
Then, a penny was worth a cent, but, alas, it ain't no more.
Ah! The myriad of things a penny could buy at the local store!
For a penny you could send a postal card through the mail.
And for a mere copper you'd get your weight read on a scale!
A penny would give you a handful of nuts from peanut machines,
And for the same, get a fistful of scrumptious and colorful jellybeans!
I recollect the cutesy cards we shared for the school Valentine party.
They cost a cent apiece and were so witty and so very arty!
As the cards were distributed, secret admirers gave a sly grin.
Blushin' lads received saccharine cards much to their chagrin!
A copper penny would purchase a huge all-day sucker to lick,
Or a twisted string of chewy red or black licorice on a stick!
You could buy a kite with your penny or some candy cigarettes,
Or some wax-bottled sugar water or silly false teeth sets!
Ain't it ironic that the profile of Honest Abe whom we so revere,
Appears on the coin that we toss about and treat so cavalier!
Even in my second childhood, I'll still pick a penny off the ground!
Shucks! "Someone's disdain for that lowly coin is my treasure found!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
First Place Win in Joe Flach's "In Other Words" Contest - September 2010
Balloons Geese Parks
David J Walker
The man in the park
With balloons for sale
Dreams are a penny a piece
Balloons float away said Daddy that day
Shall we give one to the Geese
Shall we send a prayer
Into the air
Shall we thank them for their song
Shall we watch for flight
In the mornings light
Shall we cheer them
and steer them along
Shall we sit for a while
And watch and smile
As balloons and geese
Fly away
Shall we pay a penny
And hope that many
Will return for their
Annual stay
The man in the park
With balloons for sale
His dreams are a penny apiece
Bourn by the breeze
And over the trees
Beautiful dreams released
Christmas day seemed to always land on a Sunday, when I was a miss.
Weird, but church is what I always remember every single Christmas
We would wake up too early, and get sent rapidly back to bed.
Our parents took no nonsense from any of us, their rules in lead.
We were told when we could come out, not one minute before.
We did not have seventeen presents, or hundreds of them galore.
We usually had three or four presents apiece, this was not grandma’s house.
The cookies left out for Santa had been nibbled, as if there had been a mouse.
We tore open the wrapping and got something we never saw coming.
This was before TV showed us what was valuable, or what was slumming.
We liked whatever it was, or at least pretended to like it.
For to do anything else would have caused a huge parental fit.
We thanked our parents, and helped set the breakfast table.
We had to call our great aunts Dorothy and Miss Mable.
To say thank you for the hand-knitted stuff they sent to us.
They loved hearing from us we gave them such a big fuss!
They signed the reform on a grey Brussels spring day in 2026.
Retired the months that limped, stretched, or overstayed their welcome —
Twelve equal months now, thirty days apiece, neat as a train timetable.
And your birthday always falls on the same day of the week.
Long before Rome gave us its awkward, uneven months,
Twelve was already measuring moons, seasons, trade, and time.
The dozen kept returning because twelve divides so easily —
We Earthlings didn't invent the idea; we simply remembered it.
Dozenal means counting by twelve instead of ten:
A number neatly divided by two, three, four, and six.
Ten suits our fingers; twelve rather suits the universe —
And perhaps, our fingers have been running the calendar for too long.
No February starved, no August bloated with borrowed days.
Every month now stands exactly as tall as every other —
No more “Thirty days hath…” rhymes to remember the exceptions.
Just thirty steady steps, repeated twelve times a year.
Only four days of work now, a short, sensible working week.
Then Saturday and Sunday spill out like a held breath —
Two whole days with nothing automatically owed to anyone,
A weekend now enjoyed without the stress of an overworked week.
At year's end, five festival holidays float free for all to enjoy —
Christmas first, out of December, then Boxing Day's quiet exhale.
Holiday Three, Holiday Four, with a Fifth extra holiday in leap years,
Before New Year's Eve closes the old year, and opens the next.
At first we'll complain that the calendar looks so horribly wrong,
Look for old dates and ask what happened to October 31.
By March—or whatever, we're eventually persuaded to call it OK —
We'll wonder why thirty-one ever seemed like a sensible number anyway.
No more memorizing knuckles, no miserable little February,
No more reciting that truly ancient rhyme: “Thirty Days Hath…” Oh my! —
Just twelve equal months, six-day weeks, and four working days.
With five—or six—spare days gathered at the year's end for everyone to enjoy.
So, Hear Ye All! The great European calendar revolution begins:
Paying homage to canny twelve—the Dozen of the Universe!
Rome had two thousand years to straighten the calendar out.
Brussels finally fixed it — after twelve committee meetings.
Two sets
Apiece
To each player
And this is the
Final set...
What a contest!
Both the players
Fighting to win
The match
Is equal
The scoreboard
6-6
And we enter
The tiebreaker,
An ace
And the first point
To X
Serve and volley
And the first point
To Y
14 shots
And an unforced error
By Y
There's the second point
To X
Another Ace
And the third point
To X
Double fault
And the second point
To Y
First serve
And the third point
To Y
Players
Take a break...
8 shots
And the fourth point
To Y
Amazing!
A net point
Won by Y again!
A drop shot
By X
A lob
Followed by
A slice
Now Y leads
6-4
Match point for Y
16 shots
And a lovely forehand
By X
6-5
An ace
6 all
Now, that's an amazing game!
An ace for Y
Another match point...
What a strong backhand!
X gets the point
The match goes on...
5 shots and Y
Plays it into the net
A costly error!
Match point for X
A powerful serve
And volley
9-7
Game! Set! Match!
And X wins the Wimbledon
For the first time!!!
4th March 2023
*Image of Moon's Image by Pixabay.
VIDEO: I Remember You by Kui Lee
AUDIO: Poem read
Tale Of Love's Challenge
Hail the phantom moon that traverses the murky chambered recesses of a remnant domain. Unspool gently for favorite eyes that cast within your magical lure that exacts Cupid's aim be true and that hearts pierced, binding young love a sense of certain amour, for longing lips be given purposeful assurance that receptive union is immortalized within their hearts, minds, and souls and that its permanence lingers in all three entities to be rightfully empowered against all adversities that dares a challenge for their sole reason is but to disrupt sanctioned harmony and impose their nightly fight and win over the weak, feebled young lovers that their supposed union is but of a temporal existence, and being as such, Cupid's aim slumbered apiece and held in stasis for thoughts to fester in a mire of uncertainties and wished upon efforts of guidance away from this dark retreat of the unimaged lost, but yeah to the victors and glory be theirs for their arduous hold facing a righteous fortitude to hold against the dark forces of adverse desires to mislead the truthful who have worn out the night in an ethical battle and claim the hearts, minds, and souls, for their love is a justified certainty that outlast twilight's hold for he tripped upon the dawn and that his kingdom of darkness is no more and ends the nightmare and its legions of doom. Rewards of the vanquishers who favor a hand and are gifted a kiss of permanence and a justifiable reality descent from a dream.
2019 September 12