Long Cornet Poems
Long Cornet Poems. Below are the most popular long Cornet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cornet poems by poem length and keyword.
Muses are seen as a source of inspiration for writers of poetry. They guide the poet and form his or her words. Often seen as mediators between the spiritual and sensual aspects of poetry.
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Place me on a pedestal and take me to the stars
enrich me with linguistic words of honey sweet
Fly me to the moon on wings of butterflies
dear muse, let your pearls resound inside this golden cornet
conduct in me a symphony with all the colors of the wind
inside this poignant writer's heart, there will always be a place
for you
So let us ruminate, reflect and contemplate together,
you and I side by side
floating high above the sky.
Climb the ladder of success with me, take me to Venus
so I can dance with the sun and cha cha with the moon
fly like a water ouzel and swim like a Mermaid
you and I side by side
for all time...
Jan 3 2023
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
Contest Name My Muse
We called ourselves the Heptcats
known on the ice as rink rats
Thomas, Don, Stephen, and me
and the Gardner bothers three,
Clark, Andrew, and Little Joe
to the arena, we’d all go
and shinny till supper’s call.
By high school, shinny was lame
us Heptcats sought music fame
Tom on guitar, Don on drum
Steve fiddle, Joe bass did strum
Andy cornet, Clark trombone
me on the accordion
Kings of the Plains Polka scene.
While some say seven brings luck
fame’s fortune never us struck
after school we moved away
Tom and Don in new bands play
Steve, Joe and Clark went to city
More school for Andy and me
Heptcats now forever gone.
O'er the years my spouse and I have enjoyed Broadway Revues,
And the stars of song and dance on an occasional ocean cruise.
But none will compare to the shows we love the best of all,
Those priceless plays and concerts in the school assembly hall!
We encouraged our little girls in their philharmonic pursuit,
One mastering the clarinet, the other the melodious flute!
We relished each delightful musicale, concert and revue,
Where they proudly performed as their musical confidence grew.
The girls gave us grandkids that have brought us so much joy,
And now we have had their choirs and concerts to enjoy!
(The girls now suffer the din of the squawking clarinet,
Babble of budding actors and the raucous bleat of cornet!)
Our social life was on the skids till great-grandkids arrived.
Thanks to them our entertainment options have been revived!
Lord willing, we'll be privileged to enjoy another generation,
As they perform the arts to complete their cultural education.
Alas, the children's school years have passed so very fleet,
But in that short span they've made our lives more complete!
Tho' the footlights are dimmed and the curtain has been drawn,
Another generation will take the stage and the show will go on!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
When Joey was five or six
Good feelings, she tried to mix
And living colors, a few
Dissolved in the morning dew;
Happy landscape of the world
Of starry heavens unfurled
And birds to fly like angels
All ought to live in pictures:
What we dreams on ancient things,
Eternal play of love with wings
And nights on the way and hopes
In round waves and verdant slopes…
Flowers dance at our feet.
Then, a sweet image I meet:
Joey eating her ice cream,
Keeping from cornet a rhyme;
A luminous smile of joy
Like having in hand a toy:
This empty cornet is big.
I let it for my Guinea pig.
over the bridge
to 'western street
&parminters for savoury
sausage meat
along by
the slaughterhouse
in silver lane
pop into jones&cocks
out of the rain
pass the fire-house
to aylesbury news
glance the photos
of the weeks who's&who's
to adams tobacco,corner
of the market square
pass mcilroys
hear the traders shout
their wares
my favoured table
at the ancient 'old beams'
tea ,scones &
local churned creams
thru ' bullshead ' alley
to upper high street
&nurricks,for a dental 'date'
then swiftly retreat
window-shop spraggs hermons,
& hepworths selections
into hopcrafts
for enticing confections
on to adkins
for an inner-tube kit
the walk uphill
keeps me fit
shop for groceries
at pearks,greggs&maypole
stopping at the co-op
to order the coal
into to kingsbury
for ashfords linctus
best not delay
in hasberrys ,seventy-eights
to spin and play
collect mum's hat
from the bonnet-box
next,bradfords
for those needed locks
fresh breadrolls
from baker page
&quick back&sides
styling,not yet the rage
box of nails from
ironmonger jowett
calling at sayers
for my lyons cornet
over the railway bridge
to west bros shop
for north&randall tizer
& a lemon lollipop
long lost names
in a memory fading fast
here recollected
from aylesbury's distant past
??Daniel? ?3:3?-?6? ?KJVAAE??
[3] Then the princes, the governors, and captains, the judges, the treasurers, the counselors, the sheriffs, and all the rulers of the provinces, were gathered together unto the dedication of the image that Nebuchadnez´zar the king had set up; and they stood before the image that Nebuchadnez´zar had set up. [4] Then a herald cried aloud, To you it is commanded, O people, nations, and languages, [5] that at what time ye hear the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds of music, ye fall down and worship the golden image that Nebuchadnez´zar the king hath set up: [6] and whoso falleth not down and worshippeth shall the same hour be cast into the midst of a burning fiery furnace.
??Luke? ?9:53?-?56? ?KJVAAE??
[53] And they did not receive him, because his face was as though he would go to Jerusalem. [54] And when his disciples James and John saw this, they said, Lord, wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them, even as Eli´jah did? [55] But he turned, and rebuked them, and said, Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. [56] For the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them. And they went to another village.
Do we all hear the rumour? A funeral draws near.' A spectacle is intended I think that much
Is real clear.' There will be black gloves and the
Muffled drums, that measured tread..Somber
Theater spun.' Staged to draw compassion from those (who might come?) The cornet may sound? Majestic..But I think we all know
What's the come..'
That vic-pols funeral is marching in the shadows here thrown long.'
Under the sun, As many narratives un-ravel.. That they still try to grow.' So will the
Blinds be drawn upon them? Will the windows
Stare out blank.? And also will True Blue Victorians 'about-face?' And here I shall be quite frank! Leave
Them to realise.? What a mess they have banked.! Heaped up like those mountains.'
When (they turned on their own?) Yet I think its not Victoria.? Nuh..Thats not where their
Love; and loyaltys are sown.' May they well listen.. And deeply' to that winds lone lament and moan.'
In a broken-hearted city.' Where they once did strut.! Its recorded and shown
To posture and enact such wicked anger, to vent, Yes I see, And saw
For me it has stuck deep in my heart, and in my gut.To remain reminder forevermore.'
Our pristine, prissy, upscale dining room was almost never used.
And now it can’t be used for eating, for it is slightly junked and abused.
Dining room table is so long, it started to almost immediately collect....
So many items, that who has inclination or time to carefully inspect?
At first it was just an art project, or a button or two,
But then it was stacks of magazines, and material red, white and blue.
Our junk drawer became two, and three, and four.
And now we just put a few things in boxes stacked on the floor.
Yesterday I found Great Auntie Leigh’s French powder puff.
My sister discovered her Christmas stockings and holiday ****.
There are boxes in here that were not here this summer.
We do not eat here anymore, probably can’t now. What a bummer.
We have a path to the table, but not to the fancy schmancy chairs.
I am slamming the door before my husband comes down the stairs.
He has the illusion this place is tidy and clean, waiting for company.
I am afraid if he saw it he would suggest dusting or cleaning to me.
I jump from the chair, and fall flat on my sad little hands.
Discover six inch ball made of six thousand and two rubber bands.
Well, that is where you are! My husband says, poking in his nose.
He hops over some chairs and grabs up a cornet, taking some blows.
Your junk is in here too! I say, accusing him, trying to have a fit.
The dining room has never been used this much. This I have to admit.
We can never eat in here again, he says plunking down a box.
What is he trying to get away with now? That conniving old fox!