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.
Not a flag was unfurled,
and no cornet trilled,
as the rain-swollen clouds,
the bleak valley filled.
The wind blowing cold
with a chill that pervades
as the caisson's old wheels
creaked through the glades
where leafless Live Oaks
their limbs upward bent
as if to acknowledge
the young soldier’s lament.
A tousled lone drummer
in tattered old grays
led a dog and three mourners
to the dead soldier’s grave.
The muffled rataplan
of his red and tan drum
was beating forlornly
rum-dum d’ dum-dum
And along the bare hillock’s
long, rough-rutted track
both mule and cart
were carrying him back
to the land that he left
to fight a grim war
tho’ he ne’er understood
what the fighting was for.
When one fateful day
in a field of smoke
a fusillade violently
tore through his cloak.
His battle had ended
as he fell to the ground
his lips mouthing something
but ne’er uttered a sound.
Now his casket was lowered
in an uncaring grave
as the sad words were read
his poor soul to save
whilst a single red flower
was forlornly tossed
upon the young warrior’s
funereal box.
Unseen by the mourners
yet a color guard stood
a bugler and flagger
peering down through the woods.
Then high from that ridge
at the hillside’s top
the bugler rang taps
and all motion had stopped.
Each eye in confusion
turned looking around
in search of the source
of that sad, mournful sound.
Though ne’er to be seen
the bugler still played
the keening that echoed
down through the glade.
Then just for a moment
the sun had now shone
as if angels descended
to take him back home.
The mourners and drummer
filed out of the glade
except for the old dog
that steadfastly remained.
The elegy was over and
all farewells had been bade
that gave honor and glory
to his last parade.
John Henry Gardner
© 2015 – All Rights Reserved
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!
Gilly darling dont do that
You don't know where it's been
And put our hat on there's a love
I'm fetching some ice-cream
Do you want a cornet child?
Or will you take a lolly?
Oh Gilly darling don't do that
I'll have to tell your Mummy
Now sit here on the beach towel
And do try to be good
I know you're keen on swimming
And I'd let you if I could
But Auntie Pam's a land lubber
The waters not for me
Oh Gillian for heavens sake
Just let your pig tails be
Now what is it to be my girl?
A cornet or a lolly?
A choc-ice? I suppose so
But if it melts we'll all be sorry
Chocolate on your pretty dress
A most unbecoming site
Oh Gilly child dont blubber
I shall get you one ,alright?
Oh look the van is going
Oh botheration damn
We'll have to have a sandwich
There is cheese or strawberry jam
There we are a jam one
Now do be careful please
Dont like it? Why, its lovely?
Oh ok then have a cheese
Finished it all up I see
There's a clever girl
Now have a bit of lemon cake
Or there's a Vienesse Whirl?
No I don't have jaffa cakes
No there are no crisps
Now Gilly just behave yourself
And still those quivered lips
I'm going to have a read now
Just play nice on the sand
And don't go by the water
Hold onto to dollys hand
Pam looks up from her book
No Gilly is in sight
Oh blast the child she murmurs
Then, Im sure she'll be alright
Gillian she hollers
What? Comes the reply
O there you are behind me
And the child begins to cry
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
In the darkest nights beyond the clouds of thunder,
I know the moon is shining still,
Somewhere far, yet still. It dwells and glitters yonder,
Darkest nights our sun can't kill.
I'm an angel of death who glistens moonlight on thee,
I'm the moon you can not see.
Cunning foxtrot I dance to sceletonic cornet,
I'm the odds you want to bet.
I offer sweets and peace and youthful carrousels,
On order of His bells I sing His final spells,
I'm only an angel of death not death himself,
I do not kill but guide you to the nine of hells.
And take you not my sweets and peace,
You'll ride the carrousel with me,
For what He wants I can't release,
He wants you dead then dead you'll be!
Clear your throat before you cough,
Or better yet; clear your heart.
Words are last the ones I hear,
Now pay your debt, we depart!
Foxtrot, tango, quick quick slow,
Those are dance that I know,
Violins, cornets and bass
Play the jazz and blues for us,
Cry or smile or sleep or fuss,
Doesn't matter I'm the star!
We are dancing in my show!
Coming hell to you we are!
Step and turn we spin and walk,
Gancho, kick and dirty talk,
We spin, we're flying, gliding through,
And boom! The gates of hell!
Your dead and I'm to dance anew.
Remember! Moon is shining still,
I'm dances, jazz without my will,
Simply your final breath,
I'm an angel of death!
Form:
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)
Admitted this day of this date
Chains on my twos
Twisting pain for their gain
Again it has to rain
The reason for my confinement
They call it refinement
Am fresh in the room
The colleagues clap
Welcome by a slap
They fear not the snap
Taken by the secrete eye at cornet top
This day of this date
Am admitted to the bar
Drinks of alcoholic ammonia
That smell like a rained-on-pig
They call it refinement
The reason for my confinement
The fresh human dung
Can choke the beetle
Even a fly can't survive
Tommorow is that day of that date
To face the caped lord
With masked eyes
Ready to determine my conviction
Hate speech from the son of chief
Alcoholic son of a pastor
Criminal son of son CS security
the son of the alleged terror
the warden here comes listing
my heart beating
pain in veins looting
in the news heading
titles catchy bolding
son of peasant hurting
and admitted to the bar
he calls my name with respective rudeness
the son of a wise fool
from the lineage of harmless terrorist
hereby convicted for the following
objection of Justice
killing of dreams
murder of humility
robbery of kindness
stealing peace
looting pieces of peace
I am guilty
I am a walking killer,robber,murderer and looter
admitted to the bar
#merson_poet
??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.'
A fairly simplistic approach is demonstrated by an individual acute angle and stresses are found in many evenly distributed lines. When the boom of the spray threatens a doctrine then blankets could fall meaning then that the orchestration of fortresses is reduced to a mere symbol plotted on a graphic sheet. Gridlock lines are not goldilocks and no three bears ever enter by a side door nor an exit. Dispite all counter productive odds the journeying migrating wings of many hue still crawl over the skies in a preplanned movement. And what of the ninety foot goldfish. Well he desires to be free and join the world for to watch is not to exist. It is the contemporary contemplation of a clarinet speaking to a cornet. On a very hot elaborate day. Always bask in whiskey, ice cream soda and a pile of gin in a basket. Take care of holes. Always sewing. No leaks then. And in a rhombus a bead speaks. Good. Giving guidelines grafting going gymnastic gnomes. And several skewered pickled eggs giggling in a line. Haha haha now bathe in tea. Hahahaa bananas booming brilliantly xxxx illumination z
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