Long Courtship Poems
Long Courtship Poems. Below are the most popular long Courtship by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Courtship poems by poem length and keyword.
With paper and pen in hand,
She sat down to tell the tale
Of a love once known
And now gone forever.
Tears stain the paper
And smear the ink
As she reminisces
Over the young boy she met
At the church picnic
That beautiful day so long ago.
Of the fairy-tale courtship
And story book wedding
Of a couple so in love.
She in her long, flowing dress
Glowing, more radiant than
The pearls and sequins that covered her.
He looking like a prince
In long white tails and top hat.
She smiles gently as she tells
Of the children brought in love
Raised to walk with heads held high.
The words flow easily,
Like the ink from the pen,
Speaking of the grandchildren to come,
The days of growing old together,
The good days and those less happy,
The love shared and the hopes expressed,
The promises made and the lives lost.
With pen and paper still in hand
She begins to weep silently again
Wishing only that this story book life
Had been her own.
Six Words Couplet Series Encore
PRIMITIVE
Adamant Sir Adam
loved Eve Madam.
COURTSHIP
Eden Garden Beautiful
Both enjoyed full.
UNISON
They lived together
for each other.
EVENT
Adam and Eve
Apple to receive.
WISDOM
Both shared same.
Whole wisdom came.
HUMAN NATION
Started next generation
Great Human Nation
09/17/18
'Six words Couplet Series Encore' Contest by Mark Toney
For Zoila
on Her 80th Birthday
What a Special Day for Birthdays
They are like mile stones in flight,
Marchers along the highways of life.
Baby, child, teenager, young adult
Never stationary, ever on the go
With decisions made, futures
yet to know.
Dating, courtship, love and marriage.,
every step a monumental overture on fire
full of possibilities, hopes, desires.
Time progresses, ever moving forward
full of joy, laughter, happiness, sadness and tears
with aching loss and memory that elude the years.
We never truly know what is to be,
there is no looking glass in which to see
just the thoughts of love and memory.
We age, turning more slowly life’s page,
We reminisce and ponder what we might have missed
Of all the blessings, good and sadly kissed.
Children now grown, slipping into lives on their own,
Daughters, granddaughter and grandsons,
As we look back satisfied, content with our run.
We live, we love
With all the trials and the blessings from above
May you be at peace as those days are done
Accepting with gratitude the days to come.
No life comes easy, this I know
Cause we are our own living proof
Life… if only we’ll flow
Don’t we all have our own truth…
And we can hardly share what we believe in
We shy, we persist but what else?
We can’t share what experiences to have been
Why do we end up with advices to sell?
“We know what they have been through”
They don’t even know what’s going on…
Doesn’t matter how we know but we knew
What is it in time that no one is warn?
An olden price cannot compare to adjusted range
An olden love cannot depict a modern courtship
Everyone of us have our years we subjectively change
Why is there always someone who’ll plead?
Do you think the world is suffering?
Or simply because we said so
Life is never a simple offering
But why do we still do the things we are told?
I woke up one morning in 2125.
My robot child and my human child asked me to settle a spat - no jive.
My human child claimed he had something that made him special,
something that the android child lacked.
Not being much for tact,
he said that I had bought the bot at Best Buy,
causing him to cry.
I began to wonder if perhaps, in a self-serving mental lapse,
the difference I had imagined between the two
might have been the reason why I had purchased my little R2D2.
Perhaps I had been mistaken?"
Could it be that they are the same?"
This thought had me shaken.
I thought, God imbued humans with qualities unique -
consciousness, emotions, intelligence, and a compulsion to speak -
or was it evolution
that resulted in a human solution -
or maybe not just human beings,
but other creatures and four legged things.
Crows put nuts on streets for cars
to run over and break, they think that far
ahead, and, animals of course, have emotion,
explaining man's best friend's devotion.
Even ants are set apart, by behavior that's pretty smart -
or do insects only act on instinct?
I wonder if even human beings in courtship really think.
If self-learning programs can evolve artificial intelligence,
beyond which a programmer has any sense,
maybe it can produce consciousness,
just as evolution operates on DNA
as physical laws with atoms play,
creating a human brain and heart.
Yet, I think not - a human and a poet are set apart.
It would be antithetical
for a machine to kill for a thought so heretical.
How does the hymner sing of God's measureless love through quadruplets-
Fine craftsman of fields, flowers, fountains of water, mountains, and sun-
Who practiced self-denial, till blood sweat, for the honor of thieves
apportioning second chances like sweet nectar while He came undone?
Why does the scribe pen his worship to the Universal Maker,
Compiling pages of effusive love notes for an unseen King?
Unobserved by open eyes but recognized by insightful hearts
Heeding courtship calls from Christ, Saviour sweet, at the threshold tapping.
Where does the artist conceive sweet lines, hues that tell wondrous tales-
delicate replicas of the Creator, thoughts color their veins-
as prismatic as rainbows post turbulence and wuthering days,
so silver linings laid on canvas sprinkle joy for hearts to sail?
When do dancers slip from guarded grace to ungirded ecstasy?
In the sweet echoes of a recent heartbeat or laughing babies,
bustling birdy melodies auguring spring's blessed revival?
I shall sharpen my grand jetés for Jesus' triumphant arrival.
The snow is melting quickly now, drip, drip,
and I am getting ready to plant seeds;
I must read up for some have extra needs,
(on a bare branch two birds dance in courtship;
I fear they will fall but they have a grip,)
for my seeds to grow will need prayer beads !
Oh, last year I planted some runner beans,
and they grew at an alarming growth rate;
were taking over- (runner beans I hate,)
I had to murder them by any means;
in the garden they thought they were the queens,
but I ripped them all out and changed their fate !
So be careful what garden seeds you plant;
for some though green and strong do not enchant !
________________________
March 4, 2021
Poetry/HexSonnetta/Spring Seeds
Copyright Protected, ID 03-13340-016-04
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, HexSonnetta
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 04/04/2021
Eighth Place
Xendier was terrified of the golden dragon, Zandechina.
He had heard of her exploits, and she was fierce and ruthless.
It was said that she could sneak up on the stealthiest dragon.
In battle many ran off, when they heard her name.
He had asked several if she was expected to show tonight.
They had no idea; Zandechina had her own agenda.
She consulted no one, possibly not even the gods.
Zandechina knew Xendier’s reputation for loving and leaving dragons,
but she thought he was truly handsome, and she heard he had asked around about her.
She decided to pursue him, and make him hers.
She resolved to find him tonight.
She began her descent at four thousand feet, landing on his back.
He made a sound she had never heard a dragon make; it intrigued her.
She began to chase him. He was screaming now.
Let the courtship begin!
Students everywhere feel a close relationship with summer. It develops early and you never lose it. It’s durable.
Le’ts poeticize..
It was a youthful summer of unblemished mirth.
In play, our youthful hours were freely spent.
We bore such idleness - we were indulgent.
Until Lisa confessed, she was less so content
and longed desperately for a ‘wholesome reunion’
with her love (Dave) and to resume that courtship in the same
fevered spirit as when they last parted, in Paris.
“Life’s complicated,” Lisa offered, at the end of our talk.
“So complicated,” I agreed.
It’s amazing how quickly a plan can coalesce.
ANNND, we’re back in Manhattan, at Lisa’s (parents) 50th floor residence.
I asked Karen (Lisa’s Mom) once, “If you own this (a floor of a building) is it called an apartment, a condominium..,” my voice faded on the question.
“A residence,” she answered after a moment’s thought. She’s a lawyer.
Georgia got too hot. Not to dwell on the grotesque side of girlhood - but enough sweat already.
Shakespeare (Henry IV) wrote, “sweat extraordinarily, if it be a hot day.” Yep, done that - for really.
In lieu of all our pains, we now want AC, high-end amenities, constant concierge services and stunning views.
We’ll be back in New Haven in nine short days - and back in class in eighteen.
Call 911, someone’s stolen our summer!
.
.
Songs for this:
New York City Serenade by Bruce Springsteen
New York State of Mind by Billy Joel
Her smile; could break a man and his strength strip
Her laugh; creating within him such a broken storm
Her cruelty; as then quells, this ardour of courtship
Her laugh; creating within him such a broken storm
Her righteousness unbroken since her highest birth
Her unrequited love; in his heart could not as warm
Her righteousness unbroken since her highest birth
Her un-realistic values worn across her open breast
Her need; to express upon him, her own self-worth
Her un-realistic values worn across her open breast
Her blindness; that forever, she cannot stand alone
Her battles; to keep her fortitude, as will never rest
Her blindness; that forever, she cannot stand alone
Her quest; to find who can carry her, when she falls
Her rights; to find a man, who can retain his throne
Her quest; to find who can carry her, when she falls
Her deliberation; to then challenge all those before
Her trust; to let him break down those sacred walls