Long Battled Poems
Long Battled Poems. Below are the most popular long Battled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Battled poems by poem length and keyword.
How do I begin to describe you
Such an incredible person
Yet even now you doubt your abilities
You lost your own mum when you were eight - you never ever got over it
You worked all your life, started off by working in a bank for almost 20 years
Then when you had children you ran a village shop from home
But also helped run the smallholding where we lived
You even had an evening job to bring in extra income
Then you began working in a care home and that had a big impact on you
At 50 you changed direction in life and studied and trained to be a nurse
No mean fete with two children to bring up
When you retired you continued to work in a care home
Then you undertook charity work every week still continuing well into your eighties
In fact you were on your way to work at the charity shop when you fell
You were found lying in the street …
Two bleeds on your brain and over three months in hospital
How you pulled through I will never know
Yet you battled on and are still with us still
Now you have short-term memory issues and are going blind
Fate struck a cruel blow when dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer
He passed away in February
Your lifelong partner for nearly sixty years
Your world turned upside down and now you live in a care home
We are selling the family home - gosh I find it tough emotionally
I know we have lost dad but I feel like I am losing you too
You are helping me clear out things from the house
Items you have known and loved for many years
Sadly we can’t keep everything
It must be so so difficult for you, yet you never complain
I just want you to know how much I love you
How much you inspire me
We only have one mum and I am so lucky I have you still
Written for a previous contest but too late to be submitted
Placed in Judy Konos' Contest - tell us about your mom
18th September 2015
The dead now lie where the wind blows
From fighting and dying and bloody death throes
Their life was taken in a land of rainy skies
Some of the dead fed the rats and flies
Torment and pain vanished where the wind blows
They fought for reasons where no one held blame
And battled in service for shadows without a name
The question is asked to this day is, "Why?"
Drafted and sent, fifty thousand would die
Honor for those who gave the last measure
The life they'd never know a lost precious treasure
Etched marble aligns all in a row
A day's set aside so loved one's tears can flow
Flowers on graves crosses in rows
The dead now lie where the wind blows
11/11/21 Contest...War
The Henriad
Battled lands, traitors afoot, beg his precis,
Highlights his ascent, forgiveness be his plea,
Openly nigh, wolves in a shepherd's court free,
~~I came, he naught knoweth,
Plagued by a war that his own heart desired naught,
Nonetheless, his kingdom he sees, so he fought,
Consumed was he, triumph freed, clarity brought,
~~I know naught he cometh,
Intervening moments taunts my attention,
Remedy this failure left in suspension,
Clear fog of time elapsed be my retention,
~~Deathblow, evil leaveth.
2020 August 23
it twas evereth the 14th
and ladle had stilled consequence
perceptive decorum and froth's
constable would, could naught
cold heart and battled fart
bequeath to thee
a brothersome free
door and locksey
leashed a board in mercy
a wait, as bait, beside boyhood fate
to undress against
shallowed peasant
four returned to Ireland
bedside and tired
blankets paging in grass
ant's weary temperment at gas
a home a key
a star left he
the all might and his coward
to run the knights
round to Britain
i and i only minors scribes
have told in telling
of poor bottoms swelling
I'm the cells cavern
An orchestrated advance
The corridor the call
The snip the fall
Interior design in might
Out of castled walls flight
Terror in known streets
Publication and ceremony in defeat
They will have had we Rome
And no thing at door
Battle as framers wools
The third wall of a fine ants parish
Forward the Chinese admiral
In a castle, cold and grand,
Where shadows danced and secrets spanned,
A hero bold, with heart ablaze,
Sought a potion, in shadowed maze.
His wand, a whisper of ancient might,
Gleamed in the gloom, a beacon bright,
He chanted charms, a whispered plea,
To break the spell and set him free.
A cauldron bubbled, fumes did rise,
With whispers strange, and eerie sighs,
He poured the potion, bright and bold,
A shimmering liquid, spun with gold.
A swirling vortex, then a flash,
The castle walls, in colors clash,
The hero's heart, with courage filled,
The magic worked, his will fulfilled.
He fought the evil, strong and grand,
With potion's power, in his hand,
And in the end, the hero's might,
Vanquished the darkness, brought the light.
Through halls of fear, and chambers of dread,
He battled foes, and ghosts that fled,
With courage, truth, and heart so bright,
He drove away the ancient night.
This tale is told, for all to hear,
Of heroism, and triumph clear,
In every heart, that dares to dream,
The power lies, to rise above the stream.
So, take this tale, and hold it dear,
Of magic, love, and valor's cheer,
In everyone, a hero hides,
With heart ablaze, and courage wide.
In a world so cold, and grand,
Where shadows dance, and secrets spanned,
May you find, your hero's might,
And bring the light, to your own night.
Light 1-29-24 Syllables checked with www.howmanysyllables
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Light
Nightfall’s hand laid heavy on fleeing twilight
While the darkness, born early, swallowed the light.
Driving rain clouded the eyes of pale daylight,
Sheer curtains of rain blurred tears in the lamplight.
A world set spinning on bleak winter’s wrathful wings,
A battlefield of ruined souls shunned the light.
Howling waves, without sweet dawn’s consolation,
Drove raving storm surges, diluting the light.
Tangles of downpours assaulted waning day,
Jagged dirges shred blinded lyrics of light.
Torrent’s heavy footsteps drenched the dying dusk
When cracks appeared in sealed shelters, leaking light.
Atmospheric flotsam clogged free flowing dawn,
Driving dams of old debris to block new light.
In this rain painting, where darkness battled bliss,
There stepped a warrior, rain angel of light.
The storm wrath silenced. Darkness shamed. Light in whorls
Opened wide a redeemed chrysalis of light.
what is life that i must suffer for trusting and loving
i have received backlash instead of affection and tender arms
my own in laws disowned me yet my wife was God given
my very own dad sees me as a nuisance that deserves nothing in life
mom sees me as just a housewife yet i am God's offering
noone sees the reason to help me for i have nothing to offer
i am jobless yet i will still trust in you Lord
you have shown me dreams that even great men of our generation long for interpretation
you have battled on my behalf yet death was my sentence
dear God i have served you for you alone ca6b i trust
i feel like am dead for noone sees the value in loving me
if i ask for a shoulder i get the second class treatment after all are satisfied
dear Lord you know the words my very family have rejected me with
starting from dad to mom down to the siblings rivalry i got no right to act for i got no money
my very wife rejected me for i lost a single vision yet when i wronged her she sold me to the authorities for she is well connected
her parents rebuked me but praised there daughter for bravely yet she warmed another man's bed
dear Lord, it's my mistake that have brought me to this humiliation
therefore mshahara wangu inafaa kifo...
naomba please Lord if i have exhausted my usefulness to you and i can't be reconciled to you,
let me die for noone will even mourn for me
the rejection i have received is very much
however if one day i will leave this house of hate never let me turn back to it again
Dear Lord it's easy for me to ask for punishment to my enemies but today i pray for your help in my life
i want peace,unity and above this love first from above then from here but the final word is with you
this poem i place it in your hands..
Lord deliver me from that old rusty drum i slept in yet i was in a land of milk and honey
build me an empire of love and give me 77 times by 77 of what has been taken away...
Amen
#made from Africa
#chui munga the poet
@10th/07/2020
From Little acorns
One morning the little acorn opened up his eyes,
He looked down and all around in astonishment and surprise.
Ho felt the comforting branches rock back and forth and sway
He really liked this movement it comforted him on this his birthday.
As he looked down to the ground
He saw a squirrel looking up.
But he felt safe and secure in his snug fitting acorn cup.
The months went on and he was happy swaying in the breeze
He even had an acorn sister to dance with in the leaves.
They talked together way up high in the great oak tree
They caught the sun and got a tan
They didn’t know the squirrel could see.
One day a great wind did blow
It ripped through all the trees,
It caught the acorn up there hiding, in between the leaves.
The little acorn was torn away from his sisters’ side,
The wind did take the acorn in its grasp, and threw him far and wide
The acorn battled with the wind throwing him all around
Then he came to settle, and found he was on the ground.
He laid there for a long time the leaves all covering him
He was beginning to get soggy, and his skin began to thin
The squirrel walked past him one day buteven he didn’t fancy him.
The acorn was bereft he was beginning to rot
The worms moved underneath him, the dirt built up on top.
One day when he was so sad when he felt a strange move
It was not the worms below him, and not the squirrel above
He had almost given in and admitted to defeat
But the strangest thing happened, he thought he was growing feet
His arms thrust up, his feet dug down; his head broke into the bright daylight
He was growing he could feel it, so he pressed on with all his might.
He grew and grew his branches spread, he was the tallest all around
Then he felt trembling in him and little acorns did abound
Now he was a mighty oak, he was happy as can be
He looked around and realised, he wasn’t just a tree
He was complete he noticed, new acorns hung from every limb
One day they would drop down to the ground, and grow up just like him.
Listening to her talk about past times was thrilling. Going down memory lane wasn't what she liked. Embarking on yesterday’s plane wasn’t her kind of person. She was too busy for such diversions. She was too occupied for such luxuries. I listened painstakingly to every word she said. I gave rapt attention to everything I heard. She talked about relationships, family and careers. She emphasized more on family more. Probably she was passing a message she ignored in her past years. Probably she wanted me to understand the irreplaceable role of family. We spoke at length. It was not an opportunity I ever had. She did something that amazed me. She stepped on me and asked me to step back on her. I told her not to bother since it was a mistake. She insisted I did. After I did she told me that it’s taboo for the older to step on the younger. She said it’s a belief that the older must go before the younger. I didn’t know she still believed in taboos. I thought her cosmopolitan view of life had erased such beliefs. It was the only moment we shared. Her health took a reverse. It plummeted. She became a shadow of herself. Her memories stole her present. She battled her midnight until it snatched her away.
Oh, the brevity of life,
Oh, the irony of existence,
Nothing on earth is infinite.
February 26, 2023.
The battle for the kingdom was so intense
dead bodies were used to build defence
In the end few people survived
King Arthur, Mordred and Sir Bedivere ‘sighed
Now Arthur had forgot his enchanted sword
Excalibur, his mighty reward
He battled with Mordred in single combat
but was fatally wounded from Mordred’s attack
Mordred lay dead upon the ground
and Arthur’s blood from his wound streamed down
He ordered Bedivere to get Excalibur from the palace
and throw it back in the lake, for his malice
Now Arthur asked “what did you see”
Bedivere answered, “nothing I promise thee”
So Arthur asked him twice more
on the third time he replied, “a hand I saw”
As he lie dying three queens appeared
and carried him off to a boat, with tears
They rowed him away with a cry and a song
to stay forever in Avalon
Never was there a sovereign of Briton
As King Arthur, his legend and tales, still written
He formed the Knights of the Round Table
Gathered together friends and fables
Kyng Arthur and the twenty four
Sir Galahallt, Sir Launcelot Deulake, Sir Gauen, Sir Percyvale, Sir Lyonell, Sir Trystram
Delyens, Sir Garethe, Sir Bedwere, Sir Blubrys, Sir Lacotemale Tayle, Sir Lucane, Sir
Plomyde, Sir Lamorak, Sir Bors De Ganys, Sir Safer, Sir Pelleus, Sir Kay, Sir Ectorde
Marys, Sir Dagonet, Sir Degore, Sir Brumear, Sir Lybyus Dysconyus, Sir Alynore, Sir
Mordrede
© Copyright 30th December 2010 K.C.Leake