Long Bingham Poems
Long Bingham Poems. Below are the most popular long Bingham by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bingham poems by poem length and keyword.
Vicky is an archer, born on the 14th of April,
In 1977, and started getting that archery thrill,
In 2010 when she competed for the first time:
She found archery thru a friend’s lucid dime.
She lives in Malvern in Worcester, England,
So she trains in Lillishall in Shropshire’s land,
At the National Sports & Conference Centre,
Where there are facilities and lots of banter.
Her coach since 2013 is Rikki Bingham, tough,
She’s right-handed, not left, it does the stuff,
Vicky throws 26” long arrows at weight 24lbs,
And she went international in 2014, grounds.
Indeed, at the Euro Para events in Switzerland,
She shoot a new WR to get a silver garland,
Then at the Para Worlds, in Holland at Almere,
She won a bronze and a coherent team silver.
And then in 2016 again at the European Paras,
But this time in Saint Jean de Monts in France,
Vicky gained another individual bronze medal,
So she is also going to Rio de Janeiro to treadle.
He’s a fellow souper,
And one of our friends.
Who avidly writes his heart,
Of the times we’re living in.
Half of his life he worked,
Out on the oil field.
And enjoys country living,
Beside the pastures and fields.
For under the Texas sky,
His poetic heart writes in verse.
While alone on the farm,
He and the page converse.
There’s loved ones he lost,
Who he has been missing.
If you can’t find him on the farm,
He’s down by the river fishing.
His name is Ronald Bingham,
Living on prairies abroad.
Married for 38 years,
And a happy child of God.
He is extremely blessed,
With four children of his own.
And also has four grandchildren,
And he calls Texas home.
__________________________
Dedicated to Ronald Bingham
a fellow souper and friend.
Earthen motte mounds and bailey burg
Sludge strongholds severed for siege
Norman castles cut of stone surge
Vowed vassals, the lords of liege
Round refuge tower of ashlar
Lured strums of Celtic cither
While they tend to tiers of mortar
Howling high waters hither
Gemlike blades grassy shades of green
Sailing seas beckon smartly
Hair to partly pare ployed the teen
Pirate Queen awaits Bartley
Homeland hush weave no words but mum
Forum flouters of gainsay
Dark Lady of Doona they hum
Legend of the Blacksod Bay
Fortress chieftain forges her case
Ní Grace unbowed by Bingham
Royalty rises face to face
Let them lie Ó Máille clan
Lyrate luck of her Irish pride
Aside vassal villeins sought
Herstory harmonized resides,
‘pon castles cloaked earthen motte
My federation sent me
New planets I must find
To broaden our horizons
Life of a different kind
Some where in this quadrant
A radar blip prompts me
Warp to the contact
Await and we shall see
Destination reached
As I view this world
My receivers pick up
Signals, two I heard
One from a place called England
One from a place called France
To hear the sound of life
Keeps me entranced
My computers confirm the above
My hand held detected so
To listen on their language
To see what tells me so
A broken mix of two
With a similar strain
Do I detect a difference
Humans going against their grain
One invites the other
The other not so keen
One is rhyming history
Calling the other mean
Whats the reason for this
Computers can you tell?
It seems to be the trait of one
To tell the other to go to hell?
There seems to be more clarity
Signals coming through
It's a man and a woman
I pray they have virtues too
In my travel capsule
I speed down to their lands
Invite them to a meeting
And possibly hold hands
If this does not work
What I am to do
Head back to my spacecraft
Hey guys it's up to you?
" Based on a comment by Ronald Bingham "