Long Built to last Poems
Long Built to last Poems. Below are the most popular long Built to last by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Built to last poems by poem length and keyword.
On a broad street 'neath spreading sycamores sits a stately dwelling.
Its elegance and surrounding grounds are so very compelling.
Gracious gardens and towering pines enhance its wide expanse,
All girded by a charming, yet sturdy, white iron picket fence.
Gingerbread ornamentation adorns its every eave and gable.
At the rear of the house stands a horse and carriage stable.
In my minds-eye I sit upon its front porch, so very inviting,
To muse upon its past and what made life there so exciting.
I see eloquent ladies and gentlemen arriving for a gala affair,
Happily anticipating the fellowship that awaits them there.
Outside huge flakes of snow waft gently to the earth,
But inside a blazing fire welcomes them to its cozy hearth.
The grandfather clock in the hall intones its sonorous chimes.
For decades it has dwelled there, overseeing happy times.
In the parlor a grand pump organ reposes by yon wall,
If only it could speak, what special memories it might recall!
The house has weathered the ravages of time with exquisite grace,
Providing warmth and comfort, when life moved at a slower pace.
Built to last for generations, built when guild took pride;
There, generations of genteel folk, loved, laughed and cried!
Entry for Nayda Ivette Negron's "Enchanted House" Contest
Thick smoke sick rising
into the stormy iron-gray sky
industrial gears and pistons
grinding eternity…
Lightning lances arcane
weathervanes over
a filthy antiquated metropolis!
Wondering!
a wandering of souls at midnight hearts
rising to a dirty sky a tower of Crimson, high...
With dark and narrow windows, fly!
Built to last on desires of a Beauty
build to last, shadowing.
Divinity is a place serene in my dreams
an alternate realities
the place I find deep in twilight
a place far, far from the Hidden White
in the secret, scared hours
as industrial smoke climbs high
into a bruised broken sky
thick, graying to black rising
into a storm ominous sky...
a cruel
industry,
something promising...
Freedom is a Canvas,
Painted with our rights,
A tapestry of tolerance,
In a world of fights.
It’s the colour of courage,
In our heart’s art,
In the portrait of peace,
It plays its part.
Each brush stroke tells,
A story of the past,
Of battles fought and won,
That built to last.
The right to speak,
To love, to dream,
To be who we are,
To let our spirits gleam.
Let freedom’s colours,
Blend and intertwine,
Creating a world where,
All hearts align.
So take your brush and paint,
Let your imagination run wild,
For on this Canvas called life,
You are the artist, my child!
In the halls of Kimberley, so vast,
Where dreams of greatness were built to last,
Boys walk the paths of struggle and fight,
Each step a battle, each day a plight.
The echoes of whispers, the stares that sting,
Lessons in silence, the pain they bring,
Where pride is tested, and spirits fall,
Fighting for respect, one and all.
The teachers’ words, sharp as a sword,
Lessons of life, not just the board.
The pressure mounts, the days grow long,
In this kingdom where the weak don’t belong.
But through the torment, the endless test,
Some rise above, giving their best.
For Kimberley Boys, though harsh and cold,
Shapes the brave, the strong, the bold.
In this place, not all will survive,
But those who do, will truly thrive.
For the cruelest paths bring strength untold,
And the warriors leave, with hearts of gold.
All those memories you haunt
seem to make you hurt the most
yet you linger in the past
like a sad and lonely ghost
There is an eerie silence
in your melancholy mood
You've retreated to the darkness
from the dreams you once pursued
Many prizes never claimed
many treasures never found
for you thought yourself unworthy
of the love that was around
If you'd only take a chance
just one step beyond your fear
to the symphonies of sadness
you might turn a deafened ear
Oh, the battles never fought
Oh, the victories never won
From the challenges of life
often times you chose to run
So you stay inside your mind
in a prison built to last
like a sad and lonely ghost
with the relics of the past
The vast space in which the consciousness roams seeks to fill it with experience.
But every man struggles when difficulties arise and faith is lost. Yet we engage
this game! To explore the limits of time and space, and a life that ends in death! These lives of karmic design must have their reasons why. To fulfill destiny and to become the person you were meant to be. Life is an opera of joys and sorrows. We are to use the brain yet follow the heart. To let the balance even out, for the loss in the world is equal to the gain. All that is born upon this world of legend, have to figure out the mystery, of why we are here. The pyramids were built to last and with scratches on rocks, send the ardent message, that love is all that matters, and that it is...the reason for living!
date: 5/3/23
While older retailers like JC Penny and Sears are dying
Newer behemoths, think Walmart and Amazon, are flying
Unemployment's under 4%, at historic lows
Though real income's been a bit slow to grow
Oil and natural gas cost less than years past
Cars my cost more, but now they're built to last
Consumers are spending big bucks at the turnstile
Their confidence higher than it's been in a while
The Stock Market keeps hitting new all-time highs
Robust corporate earnings are a big reason why
Though victims of murder or rape deserve all of our pity
It's a fact that crime is way down in most every big city
More cars have been sold; more jobs been created
Technology's amazing; our every wish automated --
Yet there's unrest in the land; protestors take to the street
Over gender inequity, income inequality, the latest Trump tweet
Is this the 'Paradise on Earth' for which mankind's been waiting?
Materially, maybe. Spiritually? -- Now that's worth debating
Mom has always loved antiques
I have never asked her why
Perhaps it's the connection to the past
Maybe the craftsmanship
The smell of ancient wood
The curves
The fact that they were built to last
She turned a passion into a business
A few small pieces in her living room
A sign on a door
Interesting how businesses are born
Bob there by her side
Together building on her dream
There once was an old sawmill
Where men had worked with their hands
Hard work had its demands
Each one did what he could
Their strength remains
Locked within the wood
Those same hands had built mom's home
Over one hundred years ago
Time dripped on it didn't slow
Mom's home became the perfect place
To celebrate the past
Her home and business
Built from things that were made to last
The business grew
Taking over the home
Visits from patrons
Calls on the phone
Busy all the time
No space for them to be alone
It became time
For them to expand
They looked to the future
The life they planned
Built on their historic land
A new addition built from old wood
Soaring ceiling
Above them stood
I remember the beams
Spectacular
From an old barn hewn from fir
Lifted on Bob's wide strong back
Formerly they had been just a stack
A one of a kind home
Filled with love
With bedrooms and landing up above
The kitchen was the centre piece
A place to gather
Filled with love and peace
Love of the past
Hope for the future
Has alway been a part of her
Together melded and celebrated
As a result I appreciate
The solid
The values
The ingenuity
Forever engrained in my blood
My respect for the old
My admiration of antiques
Remnants of the business still remain
The building sold
Mom loves going to auctions
She still sells at local Antique Markets
Sadly Bob has passed on
Thankfully mom has moved on from her sad
She too is made of stronger stuff
Not unlike
Her beloved
Antiques
An old poem and this one is about old things.
For Broken Wings' contest. Written April 13 2013
Fast to Come, Fast to Go (Remix G3)
[Verse 1]
Counting dollars, watch them slip away,
Fast to come and sinking like the day.
Promises like whispers in the night,
Fading echoes lost, before the light.
Chasing shadows, running from the past,
Nothing’s built to last, nothing’s built to last.
[Chorus]
Fast to come, life’s a fleeting show,
Fast to go, where the cold winds blow.
IN the hustle we forget to breathe,
Counting moments we cannot retrieve.
[Verse 2]
Look at the hands that hold the fleeting dreams,
All the fortune’s never quite what it seems.
Living in a world that moves so fast,
Just like the money, the moments NEVER last.
Time slips through, like grains of sand,
I still reach out to what I really can NOT stand!
[Chorus]
[Outro]
So, hold on tight to what you know,
Before it fades it goes...
I'm not too fond of the world today,
Too much rubbish and takeaway,
Nothing today is built to last,
Like the solid stone buildings of the past,
Comfortable homes with easy chairs
Axminster carpets on the stairs.
Wireless that was always on
Sadly this is almost gone.
Sterile apartments are now in fashion,
Chrome fittings and tiles are a passion,
For most who need a place to stay.
Comfortable homes have had their day.
Things today are not made to last,
Craftsmanship is a thing of the past.
There does not seem to be a rule of thumb,
For anything or anyone.
Solidarity is what we need,
No quicker fixes because of greed.
We all need to build a solid b oat,
That will unite us and keep us afloat.