Long Cob Poems
Long Cob Poems. Below are the most popular long Cob by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cob poems by poem length and keyword.
He bought a steel building
Someone told him to use
Ancient technology to create
A pro founded dwelling
He bought. the building
he decided a rammed earth center
wall would complete the design
Where the garage door is a cobbled
Wall would installate us that in most
Wintered seasons we are due the
Coldness that winter owed
He drilled holes
And installed rebar
And use cobb to create thick walls
Interioral to buffer the coldest season
The Ancients, the Ancients he
Taught and preached to benifet the
Extremes of the seasons
Both ancient and modern
Cause it ain't she-it and my darn
There is chill to ward-way
To winters cold to spay
Might we benifet for natures negagence
And the thermal mass to ease
and not make task
Oh the Ancients he spoke
to be taken serious and be a joke
that man and family should prosper
And benifet not to chore ah-rah-la-ah
The Ancients both modern and sound
Techs broad and ah bound
Cheapest to material these mortals sound
Oh the Ancients!
Everybody laughs at my wife because she smokes a corn cob pipe.
She doesn't like it when I complain, she doesn't want me to gripe.
She smokes it everywhere she goes and it makes her look like a hillbilly.
She lost a beauty contest because that damn pipe made her look so silly.
She even smoked it when we went to Great Britain to meet the Queen.
Her majesty had us locked in a dungeon because that pipe is obscene.
I try to tell her that her pipe makes her look ridiculous.
I told her to get rid of it or it would be the end for us.
Smoking that pipe makes her stink, she is pretty ripe.
My life has been ruined because of that corn cob pipe.
Moon had reached its zenith peak
the world lay hushed for the night
some heralding flew near the pond
wind stilled as she came into sight
Ripples stirred as she entered the water
pond came to life, ere it had been dead
time had come for the return of the cob
A White Snowy Owl swiveled his head
Taken in death from her years earlier
the pen refused to mate with another
He returned only one night each year
her muted swan mate, he was her lover
As mysterious as his ghost-like return
more of a marvel that since his death
the pen had left their pond as a woman
Night creatures at the pond held breath
Submersing, the change was taking place
she was a beautiful mute swan once more
as he approached her arms became wings
off her shoulders, the white dress she wore
Hidden by a growth of wild flowers on the bank
they coupled and preened all through the night
privileged was I to witness such a love so loyal
I wished the cob would never again take flight
Graceful necks entwined, they gave way to sleep
sky grown light, in time of dawn they drew apart
no goodbyes, he took to the sky; her wings to arms
she donned her dress and cried~with broken heart
January 1st, 2016
Female swan is a pen ~ male is a cob
We drove along the secondary streets of Iowa,
Towards my grandparents’ large farm.
How excited we felt for this seemed like a yearly pilgrimage
To visit my old folks back home.
I always loved summertime with my grandparents.
Though I knew they worked hard, poor fellers.
I noticed grandpa and his group of hired men
Moving here and there like ants among the stalks
Of the corn that grew in our large fields.
Trimmers in hand, all would prune the suckers
And saw how tall they would grow, larger than me.
How grand it was to explore the countryside,
Making friends with Daisy, who lived nearby.
There we discovered a clump of oak trees
And a clean small lake that irrigated our land.
Swimming was a must and so was kissing.
I was madly in love with my friend as I dreaded
The day when I would have to leave her to go back home.
Meanwhile the cob was soon covered with smooth kernels.
And harvesting began which meant it was the end of summer.
But before I was to return home, grandma promised a treat:
She brought in some corn on the cob and inserted in each
A skewer, then grilled the cobs. Out they came piping hot.
Grandma spread generous butter on one and added salt.
What can I say? It was divine. And I wanted more….
Thus, we arrived after a long time, so full of glee and anticipation.
Daisy jumped first out of the car and rushed inside.
No one was going to make her miss her favourite dish,
A grilled corn on the cob. No doubt I followed suit.