Long Breakfast time Poems
Long Breakfast time Poems. Below are the most popular long Breakfast time by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breakfast time poems by poem length and keyword.
I love a sunburnt Aussie bloke, with great big, muscled arms,
His rugged well-built shoulders, and face with all its charms.
I love his thongs and singlet too, and stubby shorts you see,
His beer gut proudly hanging out, he is the one for me,
I love his Aussie greeting way “‘G’day mate” when we meet
His laugh so loud, make no mistake, you’ll know him in the street.
I love the Aussie Sheila too, she’s really trim and taught.
Long legs, tight skirt, big bust, great smile, a real good-looking sort.
I love her when she’s on the beach, bikini clad real brown,
Or when she meets her friends for lunch, all dressed up for the town.
I love her friendly way she says “G’day mate” when we meet
Her laugh so loud, make now mistake you’ll know her in the street.
I love an Aussie BBQ, with lamb chops, snags, and steak
And ‘Big Red’ sauce, a loaf of bread, some salads we do make.
I love the Aussie breakfast time with Vegemite on toast
Or Sunday lunch no better that an Aussie dinkum roast.
I love our wine and spirits too, but best is Aussie beer
It’s Fosters, Gold or Tooheys Blue, you won’t find soft drink here.
I love our sport, we watch a lot, of course we are the best,
We’re always fair, we understand, just better than the rest.
I love the Aussie rules we play, that’s football, not ping pong
And how the crowds call out real loud if the umpie gets it wrong.
I love the summer tennis too; it’s watched by young and old
Or a cricket match the Aussie way, dressed in the green and gold.
I love our patriotic style, the anthem that is sung
‘Advance Australia Fair’ I think, don’t know the words just hum.
I love our multi-cultural race, from lands quite near and far,
As a nation proud we do stand because that is who we are.
I love the freedom that we have, our wide brown land to roam
This place we call Australia; this place we call our home.
The Valley of Decision
Is the place where our life is lived.
The many small decisions
that we make without thinking,
creates much of the fabric
of which our whole life is made.
From the moment we awake
to the time we crash in sleep,
through every waking moment
decisions are being made.
Some are trivial and routine
Others weighty and impactful.
What to eat at breakfast time
Or to skip because we’re rushed.
What to wear for the workplace
And when to dress to impress.
These decisions are trivial ones
Whose outcomes do not shape our lives.
The education we forego
Because we think it does not count.
The mate we choose for nuptial bond
With no thought of their character
These are some of the decisions
that shape the course of our life.
The biggest of all decisions
That each of us can ever make
Is about the relationship
We form with our Creator
For it is this relationship
That determines our destiny.
Life can be good in the valley
or filled with heartaches, grief, and pain.
The big and small decisions all
combine to shape for good or ill
the future life that you would live
be it enjoyable or sad.
So, take time to plan your life.
Determine the future you want.
Then each day, choose with wisdom
from the options life presents.
‘Tis how to live in the valley
and to make choices work for you.
God gave me a poem this morning.
Sleepily dozing words were forming,
A dreamscape composition
With imagery, rhyme and repetition
Penned on the half-asleep journal of my mind.
I like this idea I thought with delight.
God sent me this, and I feel it might
Make a fine poem, a worthy reflection
And in my inner conversation,
I told myself that it was sure
Set in my mind completely secure
I’d write it down, make it real.
Polish it for a finished shine and feel.
I told myself it would be readily available
When fully awake at breakfast table
But with coffee in one hand pen in the other,
Awakening reality started to smother
My inspiration, my bright light, my catchy new rhyme.
Oh, no! What to do? Would it return over time?
I should have known I could lose it
From my half-dreaming mind.
I remember a happy rhyme filled with delight.
Thanking God, I thought this just might
Make a fine poem or a least a line or two
I’d create the verse before the day was through,
But, alas, when I was ready, away it flew
My dreamscape thoughts and the subject, too.
I lost the poem today
So clear when half-awake I lay.
Now, I don’t know what I meant to say.
It’s not just foggy; it’s gone all the way.
God gave me a poem this morning,
A dreamscape composition
With imagery, rhyme, and repetition
Penned on the journal of my mind.
It saddens me to find
That it was gone by breakfast time.
Come on you lot wakey wake
A start of another crazy day
Give the comatosed children a chant
Dash to the bathroom now it's vacant
No time for a rest or sleep
Just on the go cup of tea
Uniforms pressed and shoes scrubbed
Presented to my two grouchy cherubs
Breakfast time can be unreal
He wants toast, she wants cereal
Fruit and veg for their box
Time for school, ready you lot?
Walk my lovelies for exercise
Get back just after nine
Too tired to eat straight to bed
Out like a light blowing my zzz
Soon be time to get up
To go fetch my little cherubs
Prepare our meal before I leave
Help with homework before we eat
Prepare my box full of snacks
Shower then my uniform is back
Babysitter's running a little late
A mad rush out the gate
Step onto my favourite ward
No time to stop and talk
Cries for nurse and buzzers
Keep me even more busier
Change beds, mop it all up
Help feed and change Mr Jessup
Medicine dispensing with caution
Cannot give the wrong portion
Have five minutes eat a pair
On the go no time to spare
Mr Drinkwater's health has declined
Call in the family, it's time
Comfort the loved one's in grief
One last round before I leave
Walking home pick up some bread
Making plans for the next day ahead
Not fully wakened till I have a sip
of what that sweet aroma leads me to
our breakfast table where he pours for me
my coffee cup filled up with fresh ground brew.
That sip embraces every sleepy cell;
awakes my heart with a new morning hope;
alerts to meet the goals the day lays out
and lifts my spirits to triumph or cope.
For me, this is a waking ritual
not pursued just any time of day;
a morning gift alone at breakfast time-
just us together with our prized cafe'.
~1st Place~
Contest: Wake Up With Coffee Or Tea Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Judged: 12/11/2016
Days to weeks to months to years
As time goes on it dries the tears
A tissue for a heart that weeps
Less sad dreams and better sleeps
Though waiting for the time to pass
Can take so long, a minute lasts
An hour, and an hour's like
Fourteen days and thirteen nights
The weight comes off, no appetite
The beard gets long, you're quite the sight
While going down heartbroken street
The key is just stay on your feet
Keep on walking, don't turn 'round
Time and you will cover ground
And then one day the sun will shine
The birds will sing, the weather's fine
And when you shave off all that hair
You'll realize those were always there
You hadn't noticed the sublime
Sit down to eat, it's breakfast time
Every day I make my bed
And, with my texts and emails read,
I take my walk, which terminates
At home, where breakfast time awaits.
Every day I read The Times
And, once I’ve passed the news and crimes,
I do the crossword, then prepare
To face what comes, no matter where.
Every day, as music plays,
I clean or at a screen I gaze.
By phone or Zoom I chat with friends
Or relatives – it all depends.
Every day I watch a show
Or maybe two, you never know,
And have a meal my husband’s made,
His culinary skills displayed.
There are some days with added fun
Or obligations to be done,
But every day, away or home,
I always get to write a poem.
Breakfast time for my two old dogs
feeding bowls full on the kitchen floor
Kublia sniffs his food and walks away
Genghis on the floor he lays
A little bacon on the top and Kublia chows down
little Genghis lays still his face wearing a frown
Kublia licks his lips wanting Genghis bowl
I look at little fatty boy and tell him firmly no
Genghis gets up and walks to the empty bowl
looking at me with hurt eyes as if his food was stole
He licks the bowl for any morsels left
ignoring the feast in his
Kublia yammers at the food left
let me eat it geez whiz
I take Genghis's bowl to the living room
where his hunger usually resumes
He only sniffs it and runs away
returning with a milk bone to play
I put his food back in the fridge
Genghis unsure of what I did
He sits and stares at me looking sad
as if he was punished for being bad
During lunch Kublia eats his food
Genghis sniffs and sits
He wants a treat not his lunch
but a treat he can forget
I take some food from his bowl
and give it to Kublia to eat
Genghis growls and gobbles his lunch
wagging his tail in defeat
The doggies roll around with paws waving in the air
full little tummies without a care
A friend told me my dogs got it nice
why would they go to heaven if they live in paradise.
As a young child
breakfast time was my favorite time of day
Mommy hovered over the flaming stove
as she sizzled a bundle of my favorite meals
tuna, corn beef, sardines , and steamed sausages
served with a side of white grits
dashed with warm butter as gold as a coin
I sat at the table and gobbled down the meal
like a contestant in a pie eating contest!
Fast forward to the present day
as I matured into adulthood
I no longer have the craving desire
for this type of cuisine,
eating grits now gives me
the feeling of indigestion
forcing my stomach to spew it out
like lava from an erupting volcano!
Now I just stick to enjoying
a cup of brewing decaf coffee as hot as the desert
with sprinkles of succulent sugary powder
and a bowl of chicken souse seasoned in high sour lime
and bird peppers as spicy as chili
with light floured coconut Johnny cake!
Having been brought up in the country
living close to a farm we got our milk
being always available on every night
so lovely to drink tasting like silk
Remembering early days at primary school
there you got a carton of milk each day
all was very good for your potassium level
having a love for this on your milky way
Breakfast time having cereal with milk
the right buildup to start your morn
a pudding and custard is such a sweet
your taste buds feel just been born
So much gets made from dairy milk
cheese, butter, yoghurts to name a few
think where would we be without it
missing so much our colours be blue
Dwell on the value of milk
so very smooth ever so white
go on drink deep a pinto
keeps you strong through the night