Long Better late than never Poems
Long Better late than never Poems. Below are the most popular long Better late than never by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Better late than never poems by poem length and keyword.
Good morning Mr. Sunshine your journey's underway
Have you come across any pocket penguins on your rise today?
I'm looking for one specifically, on her I am sold
You would know her if you saw her, she's a beauty to behold
Well let me tell you some things more to help you to recall
First of all she sings like fire, she's brighter than them all
Secondly she's passionate in what she wants to do
She'll keep you on your toes so you'd better think things through
Thirdly, if she asks a question it's more likely than it's not
She already knows the answer she's just seeing what you've got
Fourthly she's so feminine, as womanly as they come
Her tastes are just impeccable, in all second to none
And finally, though this isn't all the things that I could here devise
She's got the most captivating, incredible blue eyes
A pocket penguin yes indeed, but what I say is true
I'd love to have her with me and if you knew her you would too
Serenity. Peace of Mind. Feeling totally Complete.
*At this point in my life…I have found all three of these.
Words cannot explain the awesome way I feel in my heart;
Or the smile on my face when I reminisce a childhood memory.
The almost, unbelievable feeling of being a nine-year-old little girl; it is so frightening to me.
This is the place where I stopped. I was too scared to go on alone.
A nine-year-old spirit in a middle-age mind? I am better now. . . I think I’ll be okay.
I’ve got a lot of growing to do; a lot of life to live; lots of love all around me; a lot of love to give.
Better late than never, maybe I’m not too far behind. My Father has been waiting for me ever since I lost my way. He says I will be with him on a chosen day. A finally grown spirit, so innocently glowing, will live in harmony in a Paradise for all eternity. Not a glimpse of darkness-only an awesome light; to live forever and ever in loving fear of the One I call my Father and God
Amen
the (better late than never)
free admission confession, exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
treasured untold shenanigans of Santa,
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves)
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball, while additionally
besmirching her virginity via coital cavorting
amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied
with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
At twenty-three, Brett found his girl,
A green-eyed vision with strawberry curls,
A year of dating came and went,
And wedding bells the sky did rent.
Life was good, he worked as a welder,
And rushed at night, tales to tell her
Of buildings built and bridges spanned,
Far and wide across this great land.
But as he watched football on his day off,
While he watched the Giants, nursed a cough,
His fun interrupted by a sudden call,
And from his hands the phone would fall.
While out getting some groceries,
A trucked plowed his wife’s car into a tree.
And as if just to make the situation worse,
She was just four months from giving birth…
He fell quite hard, into depression,
Triggered merely by his wife’s mention.
For years he took refuge in hard drink,
Lost his job, and was pushed to the brink.
With nowhere to go, he moved back home,
His parents watched, they heard his groans,
And knew there was little they could do,
But be there and hope that he pulled through.
At thirty, after a long stint in rehab,
He stopped the drinking, and drove a cab,
Eventually moving up to a long-haul truck,
Made some good money, improved his luck.
One day at thirty eight he pulled in
To a truck stop diner, for late dining.
The waitress, May, proved a friendly soul,
Thirty-seven, dirty blond, eyes of coal.
After eating they talked like old pals,
Then went to his rig for something else,
He got her number, and she got his.
They agreed to be friends-with-benefits.
And every time he drove on through,
Each the other they hotly pursued,
It seemed to him to be all too fleeting,
And ever harder when it came to leaving.
A year went by and Brett came in,
And found a worried-looking benefits-friend
She said he’d given her something great,
Fruit of the passion of his many stays.
Brett felt a fool, they were quite a pair,
Like two overeager and foolish teenagers,
But as he thought of it more, it became clear,
Brett never wanted to again leave here.
So Brett married May, and their child came,
Then another a year down, more of the same!
He found himself juggling two screaming boys,
At age thirty-nine, the late nights and the toys!
But Brett didn’t care, better late than never
And with May he would remain forever.
And give thanks to God whenever he prayed,
For showing him that even tragedy fades…
Learned to ride
under a sky smeared with silver,
streetlights spilling like slow fire.
Creatures drifted in the air,
tiny sparks of shadow,
flickering in the corners of my eyes.
They whispered with the hiss of wind
and the creak of my pedals: maybe you can’t.
Foot down, foot up
the bike trembled beneath me,
its metal ribs singing against my hands.
Wobble, sway, almost-fall
the night leaned closer,
breathing around me like velvet.
And then, somehow,
the creatures lifted,
swirling like leaves caught in a sudden breeze.
Their whispers became applause,
light and soft, brushing against my cheeks.
Pedal by pedal, heartbeat by heartbeat,
I carved a rhythm into the darkness.
Maybe they were never against me
maybe they were just waiting
to see if I would fly.
Better late than never.
I rode,
and the night spun with me.
Dear, this is my last errand to you. I met you in my
last phase of life. I admit, it was better late than never. You are
the only woman in my life possessing free mind with pleasing
personality and wonderful wits. Our acquaintance turned to close
friendship. I enjoyed your companionship in full. I relished intellectual
pleasure to my utmost in our interactions.
I perceived how much deprived was me till I did not know you.
Gradually I got emotionally involved with you. Both of us had own family
neither to disturb or to disrupt by any means. Now, confined in
bed I am waiting for last bell to ring.
don’t feel sad my dear
enjoyed your charm and love-
leaving happily.
.
What if I should dream
that investment shall keep
up its standard and reward?
what if I should dream
that business needs changes
perhaps, a revolution?
what if I should dream
that business though political
can be retained tomorrow?
what if I should dream
that something is ready
to be turned, perhaps to a fine flavour or zest?
what if I should dream
that nature seemed to have had
an anniversary perhaps, concerning love?
what if I should dream
that there is a tendency to place
goals and fix them?
what if I should dream
that better late than never
this time a ground may have
others should follow them?.
Finding Love
Your Love Lifted Me So High
My Soul Soars like an Eagle in the Sky
No More Darkness Do I Find
At Last I Found Some Peace of Mind
I Had Drifted for So Long
Feeling Weak and Never Strong
'Till Your Love Turned Me Around
And Gave Me Strength That Does Abound
I've Walked down Dusty Roads
Packing Way Too Many Loads
But the Weights Have All Been Lifted
They Fell Away like Sand That's Shifted
To Me It's All So New
This Time I've Spent with You
Too Much Was Gained to Call it Loss
The Day They Nailed You to the Cross
So Guide Me Through this Life
Help Shield Me from All Strife
I Wish I'd Known You from the Start
And Believed in You with All My Heart
But Better Late than Never
Now I Shall Live Forever
Wrapped up Safe and Tight
In the Warm Glow of Your Light
I saw a guy on the older side, he donned a mask
(All jokes aside) I do believe it worked for him'
On election days with glitz and spin, he soon found
That it would always magic away, all doom sayers
On most weak-days' also he didn't need a cape to
Escape, when reality menaced; right in his face.'
He'd just reveal his ace; in the hole, it seemed it
Would serve for any jail... Er I mean goal.!
It also helped when eating food, it cut on splutter
Which some think crude, I don't know if he's tried
It for dates ? Yet better late than never, also a
Spare might be useful? should the constipation break'
Suddenly..' He had a thought; on a cure, for all others'
Errant minds, maybe lobotomy's for them one and all?
Perhaps more panicking? Would be the call? Like Barak
O' Harris was often saying, get with programme'
There can be no neighing.' Just keep trotting on like
This; and see' its all in the scripting ( for the time to be)
Afterwards It's going to change, You'll get bigger letters
Apart from that; its just the same; old same.'
A centric couple
Echanging different coloured roses
Holding hands with vice like grip
Earth betwix their curling toes
Beneath a moonlight torn astray
With such so birthed exploding hearts
It even stirs the deaf neighbours
And labours love
Valentine poison arrow breech
Still hidden in the shadowy hall's
Of old school gym lockers
Now used as passwords
That scar to this day
Because
They are a cold reminder
Of what it was like growing up
Deemed to be never worthy
Of 1 single solitary flower bought
Nor
Valentine's card written
Hopefully better late than never
Something's are wasted on the young
And are worth waiting for
And mean so much more
When the right time
And the right person comes along