Long Baby Poems
Long Baby Poems. Below are the most popular long Baby by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Baby poems by poem length and keyword.
There is a special heaven for dogs
Better than people heaven
Maybe ten times more special
Because no one is more
Empathetic
Compassionate
or
Loving
Than a dog
Do not lose faith my four-legged-friends
The rainbow bridge is a Shangri-La for you
Where you can jump, leap, bark, twirl, and fall into heaps
Being your happiest puppy self.
I know this in my heart, for I have been loved by
these dogs:
Blue, Dot.com, Nova, Spot, Buddy,
Beauty, Pebbles, Baby, Egypt, Squirt,
Barney, Peepers, Jeeves, Queenie,
Brownie, Happy, Go and Lucky
If you do not get rescued in this life, my friends,
you will be rescued in the next one.
Horses and nature I have always reveled in;
when I read “Midnights Miracle”, I remember
feeling so sad in the beginning that this horse
could not be found. I was certain that it was
gone forever, never to return.
I read on feeling for the owners of this beautiful
black horse. Elation set in, when I read that she’d
had her foal. She was looking for a place to have it
safely and found one. Mom and baby were clearly safe;
what a happy moment when she was found.
Carolyn had written on many subjects here at AP
and she’s always been generous with comments and kind.
A very talented poet and a wonderful individual, cordial and loving.
I was so sad to hear about her passing, but I
know that she’s in a better place. Her poetry
will live on in our hearts and I know she will
in her new life. May she soar to lovely heights
of heaven.
Carolyn's Poem: https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/midnights_miracle_256099
8-19-2021
Celebrating Carolyn's Poetry: An Uncontest Poetry Contest
Andrea Dietrich
Mom’s Tree House Apartment
Step inside, warm feelings greet you…
On the entryway wall, President Kennedy signed a condolence letter
from 1962, addressed to my Grandma, thanking her for Grandpa’s service in WW1.
Below, perched on an old credenza, the Milk Glass Chicken still delights her
grandchildren with a treat hidden in the Baby Chick alongside!
Glancing to the right, Dad’s Rosary collection (much used) hangs majestically,
a reminder of long-gone family members from cloistered communities, Mom
and Dad revered.
In the living room, above the expansive soft couch that always finds a family member
dozing peacefully after a long-journey home, a massive burl wood frame cradles
A fox -hunting lodge scene, with participants positioned around a blazing hearth,
regaling the hunt, while enjoying a pint.
Consuming Dad’s last days, I joined him for countless hours deciphering every person
In the painting, assigning rank and position to each, with intense minor details,
Joyously discovered, as if for the first time! A memory Dad possessed from his youth,
fox-hunting with his Dad.
In her bedroom, along the wall, Dad’s English Saddle, gallantly laden with his favorite
things, settles the atmosphere.
I pick up his favorite red hoody, and still inhale his courage.
Like a royal parade,
they waddled across
the well traveled thoroughfare
teeming with autos crawling to a stop;
otherwise road rage reduced to admiration.
The regal drake held his head high—his eyes
piercing straight ahead—oblivious to the traffic.
The obeisance of his trailing brace
reflected a solemn reverence to their chief.
A mother hen shot an evil eye to a baby Donald
who quickly got back in step before exiting onto
the dew laden emerald grass—Glistering.
With the aura of a spa for creatures
bearing wings or fins or tails, as well as feet,
the pond awaited them—one by one
quacking with pleasure as they entered.
As we mounted our bikes
to continue our ride, auto horns
began to honk and obscene words
abated the serene ambiance.
Feels limiting living in a small place...
I retrace all my sorrows and joys
In a region I've personally proclaimed as my home.
Within my mind is only a dream of another place.
Another desire and wish of mine is to be set free.
I am sorry, but I must leave...
My mind shall turn into a fixated set of
Feelings of missing of my young prayed-for angels
(My baby brother and my little sister).
Farewell for a while, my friends,
For I will go onto a journey
(Alone or not alone, doesn't matter).
As I keep this decision
(To be true to myself and honest of myself),
I shall be able to continue my own life with precision.
So farewell and be glad for yourselves,
Even when everything feels out of your own range,
Please remember how I perceived life through
Changings of thinking and changes of maturing mind.
To a very special couple, these words I’d like to say
I want to wish you every happiness, on your anniversary day.
Fifty years is such a long time to have survived the wedded bliss
So many memories to savour, so much time to reminisce.
Remember all those years ago, when you both stood side by side
You took your vows to together, and became a groom and bride.
Looking forward to the future, as you started married life
To each and every new adventure, as a husband and a wife.
Good times were had together, and your world was filled with joy
When you welcomed into your family, a new-born baby boy.
And then a couple of years later, you had your second son
So now, with Karl and Darren, your family unit’s one.
And parenting’s not easy, it brings lots of tears and pleasures
But the love you have for those two boys, simply can’t be measured.
And as the years do roll on by, your boys grow into men
They spread their wings and fly the nest, it’s just the two of you again.
Now you’ve had fifty years together, and that’s not easy to achieve
You have to love and trust each other, but most of all, believe.
And when there’s someone there who loves you, always standing by your side
It makes your journey wonderful, as you travel life’s wild ride.
So I hope you like this message, as it’s written from the heart
We’ve been close friends for quite a while, I hope we never part.
And I’ll be there to help you celebrate, on this very special day
We’ll create some happy memories, for you to store away.
Can't tie shoes. Can't read aloud. Can't memorize Latin.
IQ test, panic, shyness. Confidence goes missing.
A corner turned. Ask, and you will receive.
College, city planner, romance, graduation.
Paradise lost. War drums. "You are hereby ordered to report."
Fear and dread. Grab your guns. Invasion.
Many rockets fired, crashing all around.
Deliverance! Cheers on homeward flight abound.
"Baby killer! How justify?" Keep it secret. Don't fit in.
Ask, and you will receive. It all comes together.
Grad school, true love, and a career.
Wedding bells, children, grandchildren. Blessings astound.
Retirement: Spanish, softball, world travel. All a pure delight.
But time speeds up. No, we slow down. Sunset and aging.
Microsoft 7, 10 and 11.
Accounts, passwords, applications.
Patient portals, lab tests, hospitalizations.
Masks, shots and Covid-19.
Can't keep up. There's no time. Trouble remembering.
Anger, self-doubt, then frustration.
Ask, and you will receive. Rescued again.
True love comforts. Eternal Love sustains.
Baby
I can already see it.
You
walking on a sheer floating gossamer wave
where the stars drip from the cieling like hot wax
Your hair sweeping over your eyes like a seductive ballerina
And all I can think about is your beard tracing the curvator of my body.
Let your your cologne be the treasure map of our once adventurous ecstacy
You bring out the sun of my smile
Cascading my light around the circumfrence of my world like a spotlight
This daydream of mine, brings me such peace
and You whose tuxedo body..... is mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Better than that ever of Leonardo Dicaprio or George Clooney
You are Apollo's finest work of art
You mortal Renoir
Your body is the epitomy of masculinity
Your arms are stronger than that of the ancient oak
I like a sleepy mischevious cat, is just dying to fall asleep in them
But oh from so high, how will I ever climb down again?
You have a bottom like a warrior
Yes I have taken notice of it....
You are built for the wieght of the world
Your chest holds the rythmic life Snare Drum
I am mesmorized by the cavity where the angelic source of laughter derives from
No I am not ashamed
Walking next to you is like.....trying to walk behind a King
when I am only but a french maid
There was a house at the end of my street
No-one lived there for very long
During the war, an entire family wiped out
When an aeroplane dropped a bomb
The family living there at the time
Amounted to unlucky thirteen
Mother, father, baby Mary
And ten children in between
They were a lovely family
Liked by everyone
Janet Smithson who was a nurse
And her hard-working husband John
They were in the front room having tea
On that fateful day
When an aeroplane scored a direct hit
And God took them all away
The whole town was in mourning
For the Smithson family
Mother, father and eleven children
The youngest baby Mary who was three
What was left of the house was boarded up
Then the tenants would move in
Off would come the boards
The walls they were so thin
We'd hear their every movement
If they slammed a door, the walls would shake
Wild parties held by young teenagers
Would keep us all awake
A tenant would live there for a couple of months
Then they’d go on their way
We'd ask them why they were moving out
But none of them would say
This went on for many years
Tenants would come and go
I asked the landlord what was wrong
He said that he didn't know
One day I plucked up the courage
To question a tenant as they were about to leave
She said “I’m almost scared to tell you
I’ve never been one to believe
But there is something supernatural
Going on in the hall
When everything is quiet
We can hear screaming coming from the wall”
She said she'd looked on the internet
In the local branch library
And read up on the house's history
And the sad fate of the Smithson family
After years of squatters and standing empty
The house it was pulled down
But what happened to the Smithson’s
Is still remembered in my home town
Somewhere in the darkness a baby cries
It’s life barely begun
Given by God to a girl who doesn’t care
Left wrapped in an oily rag
Laid beside a rusty dumpster
Without a second thought
Or even a good bye
A beautiful person turned into garbage
It suckles on a piece of discarded meat
Too rotten for the bugs and rats
Starving and alone cries for a mother
Cries that echo on cold stone walls
Fading into a crowd only feet away
The crying slows and becomes mute
And a young child
Innocent and totally lacking sin
Dies alone and unknown
Without even a name
We’ll just call her “Baby Jane Doe”
At least that way she may be remembered