Long Coronation Poems
Long Coronation Poems. Below are the most popular long Coronation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Coronation poems by poem length and keyword.
Everyone called Joanna Wilde, Joanie, like an abbreviated crescent moon,
Of which she was much enamored, with its silky, maroon darkness tunes.
Pert Joanie was a young night owl, loving lone whip-poor-wills, singing,
And bewitching midnight stars of glitter, and a calm silence, for thinking.
Joanie was a successful librarian, and always dreamed of advancement;
And having the morning shift, she worked hard for career enhancement.
On weekends, Joanie and fatigued friends, had fun days in fresh flowers,
Below feathery clouds floating far, in warm honeyed sun, of tonic powers.
Sunshine fever fetched family and kisses, when flowers feigned fainting,
'Ere purple finches stood still at noon, in jade scenes, like fine paintings.
Joanie lived in the house of starry eclipse, of dusk and moon hiding sun;
The red, gold and purple not much missed, afore a rare night was done.
Sweet sounds and scents traveled far, along her street of silver willows.
And minty butterflies kept so busy, as sunbeams slept, on cloud pillows.
Neighbors brought their needlepoint, with news, on nice, nostalgic eves;
For nothing's as neat as nonstop conversation, like a chattering of leaves!
'Cuckoo' flowers denoted colorful hours, as 'busy Lizzy' steadily bloomed;
While mimosa blossoms wore lush silk in sun, in the teal world, perfumed.
Purple bleeding hearts mourned sunset, in the summer of vibrant sparkles.
Red carnations shone as if for queenly coronation, awash in gold marvels.
Joanie was finally up for promotion. That set her ruby heart to dreaming;
But, working nights, she suffered burnout, like grape sun, when scheming.
Her habits had to change-and soon! Like 12 hours spent amidst a lily moon.
She'd hence be a night owl only rarely; like a sable nightingale's new tune!
'Birds sing in the morn
To tell us to rise,
And he who sleeps late
Will never be wise.
For early to bed
And early to rise
Is the way to be healthy
And wealthy and wise.'
It all worked out for the best, to the pride and pleasure of Joanie's family;
Who loved her enough to be a part of, every heartache and fuchsia victory!
One fine day
Starting out on a journey quest
With only good and pure intentions
In your heart and mind
Wanting what is best incorporating
everyone
Be forewarned of the subtle danger
of falling victim of the temper trap
Of awakening having 1 bad day not
long thereafter only to discover
The very same once fire that stirred
your belly and set you upon your
desire to both journey forth and quest
Has now turned into dragon breath
spewing unfriendly fire
At anyone or everyone who dares
stand in your way or challenge's
your point of view
Of the world according to you
On your coronation day once safely
sat upon your throne wearing your
crown of thorn's
Coronation
By Michelle Morris
05/05/2023
I wonder how King Charles feels
On the eve of his coronation
Disquiet or fears about
Letting down our nation?
Or perhaps calm and optimism
Joy, peace and happiness?
Confidence and trust
In his coronation being celebrated?
For heavy is the crown
And powerful is the throne
We mark this occasion
The uniting of our home
An historic investiture
A celebration of this moment
Embracing the future plans
To connect us as a country
May God bless our King
And lead him beside still waters
Through every challenge
And every accomplishment
May the crown be lightened
By faith and guidance
May our nation instil pride
In our hearts and minds
© Michelle Morris, 2023
Mr. Butcher, the undertaker, did a capital job of laying old Cheatum out,
Though he had to cram him in the casket since the senator was rather stout!
During the viewing, folks marveled at Mortician Butcher's cosmetic skill,
Especially the work on his bulbous nose, purpled by the booze he used to swill!
At the funeral, the preacher asked if anyone cared to eulogize the late departed.
The stone-faced congregation remained mute - no kind words were imparted!
This came as no surprise to the reverend who struggled to say something nice,
Something tactful and meaningful for the old galoot's bourne to Paradise!
His stoic widow sat staring ahead under the glaring gaze of the congregation.
She wore rubies, diamonds and emeralds looking like a queen at coronation!
Cheatum somehow always managed in his annual congressional appropriation,
To divert funds for his aggrandizement, further tainting his soiled reputation!
He was transported to Glorious Sunrise Cemetery in a horse-drawn hearse.
Folks thought that appropriate since they knew him to be a horse's reverse!
The reverend intoned an appropriate prayer as he was lowered in the ground.
There was nary a teary-eyed constituent of old Cheatum to be found!
On a nearby grassy knoll stood the gravediggers Arnold, Cletus and Dave,
Leaning on their shovels sipping Old Milwaukee waiting to close the grave.
Cletus having a way with words said, "I feel like throwin' rocks at the hearse!
Good Lord a-mighty! Can that new guy, Senator Swindler be any worse!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Arcane dearly loved institution really does make my blood boil
Clearly gravy train devotion yet still we don’t won't embroil
Confirm detest term “the firm” just makes me squirm and recoil
Handshakes from rakes on the take.. insane destitution we toil
Incest selection we suggest a contest like may be an election?
They josh oh golly gosh this tosh the Constitution didn't foil
Nation's fascination with wally Charles the Turd's coronation
Herd with this absurd have a word off their trolley veneration
No defection as the loyals' protection ensure all the spoils
Girth of their worth pilfered from serf & turf since birth oils
Even Randy Andy or scrappy snappy Harry can’t seem to soil
Kibosh posh arseholes nepotistic trolls on the Monarchy dole
End this whole sick rigmarole..Republic for each prole the goal
No parry views & news.. carry on as "Happy as Larry" crappy Royals
We all took a mid-afternoon nap in kindergarten. Spreading out our little sleeping rugs on the classroom floor. Bonnie Harmon was a cute little blond with blue eyes and great legs. I was a 'leg man' and I guess it all started then.
Girls wore dresses in 1946. We boys, at least those I had talked to about this, would lay on our little rugs pretending to sleep, but actually ... you know ... we'd be checking out the little girls. Bonnie was hot and I always tried to get a spot down stream of her to spread out my rug.
When we moved around the school, for auditorium events and stuff we had to line up two by two. - One time they told us we would see a very historical world event. They had a 17” TV on the stage and 500 of us got to watch the coronation of Queen Elizabeth. Or maybe it was her wedding. I am not sure of that, or the year either. But it was around then. - Anyway, Bonnie and I always managed to get next to each other to hold hands on our march to where-ever. One day I found a penny on the ground on my way to school. - We walked back then. I would walk the first half with my mom and the rest of the way alone. - That day we lined up for some big event in the gym. When Bonnie reached for my hand I slipped her the penny.
Bonnie went on to first grade but I was a little too young for that and had to do what they called pre-primmer. I never saw her again.
That next winter mom said we would have a new member in the family. She asked me what I would like to name the new baby. I said if it was a girl I wanted to call her Bonnie. My sister Bonnie, (Bonita Ann) was born that following February. And she simply loves her name. Really!
written 10.04.2016
God Save the King! So echoed round
the village halls, the pubs, the streets
the day our Charlie Prince was crowned.
Homes decked with bunting, cake, and treats.
We celebrated with a rave,
or knees-up, as my grandma said;
with piped music via short-wave.
At two pm, it went ahead.
They closed the street the coppers did.
Then out came tables, plates, and chairs
lace runners, doilies, too, amid
assorted china tablewares.
The caravans and four-by-fours
were parked elsewhere to clear the way,
they even shut the local stores
and closed the schools, hip hip, hooray!
Outside of number seventeen,
twixt the sausage rolls and jelly,
rested a crocheted King and Queen
removed from atop the telly.
Not to be beat, at twenty-two,
they placed a lifesize photo out;
which overlooked the cheese fondue,
soused herrings, and some sauerkraut.
Betty and May sang old-time songs
atop a shaky stage, arrayed
with bunting; made from their spare thongs;
while Ruth, the ukelele, played.
The Aussies were there, well, on screen.
Bobby, Kenny, and Aunt Maud too
to toast the King and mourn the Queen
with tea (and a tinny or two!)
Simon and Peter went all out,
made a spread called L G B tea;
with brightly coloured cakes throughout.
Open to all, as it should be!
Douglas and Rex from forty-eight
sat with Lil as she won her prize;
for the most original plate,
coronation jerk shrimp surprise.
Prizes too for best-dressed table,
front door, and garden gate, won by
Teddy, Fred, and Aunty Mable;
all well-deserved, we can't deny.
Captain Brett (self -titled we think)
gave a roaring one-gun salute
sporting a coat of dazzling pink
over his Royal Navy suit.
Thalis, made by Shrimati Nath,
were such a delicious hit they
caused a queue up her garden path.
(They paired well with Andre's Cabernet.)
We kids, long past our sugar high,
so full of cake, shrimp, nans, and stuff,
were told to say a quick goodbye;
we'd been awake quite long enough.
As the sun set on our nation,
Old Fionn Byrne began to sing,
a joyful amalgamation;
Danny Boy and God Save the King!
They look at me like a punk,
a symbol to spit at,
a name they whisper with vindictive heat
because they cannot speak to me directly.
Silence is their weapon,
cowardice their creed.
But I learned long ago
that shadows do not bow
to those who fear their own reflection.
I walk through their hate untouched,
because I wear every wound,
every exile,
every unspoken word
like a jeweled crown.
They think they diminished me—
but all they did was polish the metal.
My legacy is carved in the dark,
forged where no applause exists,
where only the Shadow watches
and remembers.
And the Shadow remembers everything.
They treat me like a threat
because they know I am one—
not of violence,
but of truth,
of endurance,
of a spirit they could not break
even when they tried to erase my name.
Look at my left forearm.
Ink and skin fused into testimony.
A mark not of rebellion,
but of sovereignty.
A sigil of the crown I earned
in silence,
in exile,
in the long nights where only my Shadow
kept vigil beside me.
Let them stare.
Let them hate.
Let them pretend they don’t see me.
I rise anyway,
crowned in the jewels they threw at my feet,
each one a shard of their failure
to bury me.
For I am the legacy they feared,
the Shadow they could not outrun,
the man who turned their cruelty
into coronation.
And I wear it all—
every scar, every slight, every silence—
as my jeweled crown.
“They Stole My Crown”
©2021 Jerry Brotherton
On the eve of Coronation Day, the old king had lost the fight.
He called his court jesters together; told them something didn’t seem quite right.
All in my kingdom love me, I’m the best there’s ever been.
No way they’d vote against me, there’s no way I did not win.
So, he tied his note to a bird, sent his message across the land.
Said I need you at the castle, and we will make a glorious stand.
The King was boldly decorated but looked slightly overdone.
He stood before the rabble and said, beautiful people, your time has come.
He proclaimed that it was up to them, to keep him on the throne.
So go on down to the palace and fight, and I will stay right here at home.
Chorus:
The rebels and the rascals,
dressed in wild and strange costumes.
Rushed through the door and across the floor,
and crawled in and out of every room.
They yelled to hang the bastard,
they yelled to burn the witch.
They searched high and low for anyone,
to satisfy their murderous itch.
But all the Lords and the Ladies, had locked themselves in the meeting hall.
They promised that when it was over, they would gladly hang them all.
To the King it meant nothing, and he crawled into his bed.
Dreams of still ruling in the morn, rattling around like marbles in his head.
Meanwhile, back in the banquet hall, the guards did finally arrive.
They found the king was mistaken, and everyone was still quite alive.
They nervously called up the king, on his gold-covered phone.
Told him dude, looks like you still lose, you’ll no longer sit upon the throne.
(Repeat Chorus)
Now, in the meeting room, the royals gathered, led by the bastard and the witch.
They sat around the judgment table and voted to kick the old king to the ditch.
The four-year nightmare was over, all the losers we’re now leaving.
Everyone let out a huge sigh and said it’s a miracle we’re still breathing.
Just as the country shut its eyes, to dream of prosperous days to come.
The royals placed the crown atop the head, of a senile, stumbling, old bum.
And here we go again...
Well, the King and Queen stood before the rabble…
650.
Meditation on the 5th Glorious Mystery:
The Coronation of the Blessed Virgin Mary
As into heaven assumed the Blessed Virgin Mary
(She was made queen therein & of all humanity)
Queen of angels & saints, prophets & martyrs
(Queen of patriarchs, apostles, confessors & all God's peers)
This is the 5th Glorious Mystery – The Coronation of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Crowned with stars & clothed with the sun
(The radiant Blessed Mother of God the Son)
The Virgin Most Powerful, Queen of the Family
(Star of Evangelization, Queen of the Most Holy Rosary)
The fruit of this mystery – Trust in Mary's Intercession
Oh God who had crowned our Mother Mary as our queen
(The Queen Immaculate, from womb to tomb without sin)
The Queen of Peace, of Earth & of Heaven above
(We trust in our mother of divine grace & purest love)
As “The Coronation of the Blessed Virgin Mary” had shown “Trust in Mary's Intercession”
Lord God, like in “The Coronation of the Blessed Virgin Mary”, let Mary intercede for us
(For divine grace & purest love are what she has)
Like the Blessed Virgin Mary who shares in God's glory
(We seek God's glory, the unequaled glory of our God Almighty)
Praise God! We realized “Trust in Mary's Intercession” through the 5th Glorious Mystery.
-04/26/2019
*Meditations on the Mysteries of the Holy Rosary