Long Chauffeurs Poems
Long Chauffeurs Poems. Below are the most popular long Chauffeurs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chauffeurs poems by poem length and keyword.
The scent of reading,
It pervades our chambers,
The dew of knowledge,
It moisturises our being.
The scent of reading,
It diffuses into a hidden part,
Concealed in our subconscious mind,
Stealthily it comes to the fore when needed.
The scent of reading,
Like the aroma of flowers in spring,
It envelopes us,
We glide in its richness.
The scent of reading,
The luxury of its fragrance,
It chauffeurs through the door of insight,
We're haloed by its light.
The scent of reading,
It gladdens the heart,
We take flight on the wings of knowledge,
We're embellished with stars.
February 9, 2023.
There’s a house out across the creek,
just an old rundown two-room shack.
Each time I drive out past it now,
those memories come flooding back.
It’s the house that held my childhood,
where all fifteen of us were raised.
A loving piece of treasured youth,
only a pile of sticks these days.
It was a different story,
back fifty years or so in time.
A hillbilly man and his spouse,
lived happily there in their prime.
They would fill your empty stomach,
though they could barely feed their own.
They had never met a stranger,
any were welcome in their home.
Come warm your body by their fire,
talk and sing ‘til your head was clear.
Warm your soul with a little wine,
warm your heart with friendships held dear.
Many people I did not know,
they went in and out of that door.
When it came time to leave they knew,
that kindness is worth living for.
That shack is barely standing now,
down that dirt path just off the road.
But to us it was a mansion,
memories more precious than gold.
We did not have maids or chauffeurs,
we were living a simple life.
Each other’s love was all we need,
that hillbilly boy and his wife.
That hillbilly boy and his wife,
they showed us the meaning of life.
Love and hope are all you need,
if you have that then you’ll succeed.
Time walks with us like a shadow. Change overcast us.
-Thompson Emate
The memories walk with us
like a haunting yesterday,
All the things that served us,
All the things we have abandoned,
All our keepsakes,
All the pleasurable moments with them.
As the morning resumes duty,
As the evening relieves her,
The world turns the pages of its books,
We add our colours to enhance its looks,
Its mysteries are still hidden from us,
Our paintings don't uncover its linings.
Time makes its sketches,
Thick and thin lines,
Time paints its portrait,
Sombre and bright colours,
Each sojourn with it,
The closer we get to the final door,
It chauffeurs us to the untold,
It takes us to the vast unknown.
We search for the road to bloom,
Gloom stealthy pervades the room,
Shadow overcast the meadow,
The sages say that there's beauty in decay,
Sometimes hope frays like a fabric,
We learn to dance to every music,
Until our roots anchor us firmly to the ground,
Until the night rides us to the beyond.
September 11,. 2023.
“The past is an abandoned house that still bears the treasures for today.”
- Quote_ by Poet
We go through its door,
We go into its house,
A reflection of where we have been,
We view all of its portraits.
Sometimes we are held in its nights,
They come into our lights,
They come into our spaces,
They stare at our faces.
All the joys, laughter and comfort,
They have buoyed us to today,
Hope chauffeurs us to tomorrow,
We're not held by today’s gloom.
The past can be a trailing shadow,
A reminder of the shrivelled meadow,
As we look into its mirror,
Our hands should be guided to paint today’s portrait.
November 19, 2023.
Spring heralds a new beginning
She fosters a rebirth,
Gloom is replaced with mirth,
Newness is obvious as the morning.
Many await her entrance,
There’s a lavish display of colours,
Beauty pervades in its symmetry and contours,
Awakening is seen from a distance.
Withered boughs bloom,
Nature enlarges its room,
Spring chauffeurs a time of refreshing,
She aids a replenishing.
Butterflies take flight with colourful wings,
Basking in the joy that spring brings,
She sculpts new ways,
She's a harbinger of happy days.
March 1, 2023.
In Bloom Poetry Contest,
Joseph May.
Close to the track's end,
Jumping over the last hurdle,
Hope stands beside us to stitch and mend,
Thoughts of unfulfilled desires saddle.
Walking through the end's door,
A few miles to go across the border,
A tick, a tock and more,
Each dawn chauffeurs us further.
Christmas is here,
A time to give and share,
Celebrating the birth of God’s son, loving and dear,
Sombre moods are dispersed by moments of cheer.
Cities and homes wear a colourful look,
There’s a global declaration of love,
Rancour is erased from the offender’s book,
Joy lights on us live a dove.
December 3, 2022.
When I was young my mom, like most women, donned a hat when she went out.
Dad said it added to her beauty…of this I had no doubt.
My mom had a collection of hats she stored in boxes under her bed.
So many different kinds of bonnets that sat atop her head.
Moms of today are different they go out with their heads bare
but one thing they share with Moms of the past are the many hats they wear.
If we tried to count the hats they don...we couldn’t...they go on indefinitely
Perhaps one way to approach it...is alphabetically.
Moms are:
Accountants
Babysitters
Chauffeurs...they do what
Doctors and
Electricians do…they are
Farmers
Governors
Housekeepers, and
Ice cream makers too…they are
Janitors
Kitchen and
Laundry workers, and
Maids who clean the floor…they are
Nurses
Optometrists,
Painters
Quality control inspectors and furthermore they are
Receptionists
Seamstresses and
Teachers…they can
Upholster that sofa or that chair…they are
Valets
Washroom Attendants and
X-Ray technicians…ready anytime and anywhere…they are
Yard managers and every Mom I know is also a keeper of the
Zoo
That’s 26 different hats they wear…
26 different jobs that all Moms do.
Moms are the original and still the best multi-taskers the world has ever met.
In fact, I didn’t run out of hats for them...I ran out of alphabet!
I guess it’s a good thing each job doesn’t have a hat that sits atop Moms head
for there wouldn’t be enough room to store the boxes under their beds.
They are visionaries, they are cheerleaders, so much of our existence they adorn
yet they had no experience as a mother until the day when we were born.
Because it was at that miraculous moment, despite their fearfulness and qualms
when they smiled as they looked at us and realized……’I’m a Mom.’
For that is the hat that encompasses the rest...the hat we call motherhood
and I must admit, from where I stand
Moms…you make that hat look good.
So Moms, here’s to a wonderful Mother’s Day as this poem bids you all adieu
For all the many hats you wear…
our hats are off to you.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
In this boat that we dwell,
It can be a walk through hell,
Yesterday haunting today,
Today pervaded by sombre rays,
Tomorrow being spun by the unseen.
The world is a rocking boat,
Sometimes the night shields its coat,
Dawn chauffeurs the unknown,
We sojourn on a lane that leads to the untold,
Hope is the hand that guides us when we're lost in the fold.
Time is a precious commodity,
Nothing on the world’s threshing floor can be compared to it,
It’s an unfettered train,
Advancing in its course in the sun and the rain,
Time is an unwearied athlete.
Never forget to express gratitude,
It’s a ladder to higher grounds,
It’s a door to blooming meadows,
It barricades trailing shadows,
It advocates for us in moments of ineptitude.
Life is a masked stranger,
Today is insufficient for tomorrow,
There's always something to learn and borrow,
Life is a book,
No one has seen its end.
September 8, 2023.
Unexplained encounters,
Undulating terrain,
I'm standing in the rain,
Hemmed by downers.
I find myself in a direction,
A way I know nothing about,
A route that's beyond discretion,
It's an everyday bout.
Where are the answers that I seek?
To unravel the mystery in my walk,
To refrain the hands of the enigma's clock,
Disperse the shadow that makes dawn bleak.
Dawn chauffeurs the unexplained,
Within me, these are curtained,
I'm saddled with the unseen,
None of these could be foreseen.
Everything I do not know,
To this, I do not yield,
I only utilize its vast field,
Keeping hope alive as I go.
March 12, 2023.
Writing Challenge - "K" Words - Poetry Contest,
Constance La France.
I woke up new and sound,
This freshness I have found,
Resonates from deep within.
And reflects in my rising and sitting.
I'll revel in this bliss,
Not a moment I'll miss,
Walk in the light of my fresh starters,
For nothing else matters.
I see myself with new eyes,
Mornings are haloed with colours,
As I journey I edge out all contours,
Gloom gradually loses its size.
I have sickled every old way,
A different lad I see in the mirror,
I close my eyes and pray,
That dawn chauffeurs no more terror.
December 31, 2022.
Brian Strand No.1165 Poetry Contest,
Brian Strand.