Long Cover Poems
Long Cover Poems. Below are the most popular long Cover by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cover poems by poem length and keyword.
When my knitting queen aunt
Feels that needlework pull,
She starts knitting some squares
Using leftover wool.
They’re rectangles, really,
With colorful stripes,
Their patterns and stitches
Of similar types.
Then when there are enough,
Using needle and thread,
She will sew them together
To cover a bed.
If no blanket’s requested
By someone she knows,
To a charity’s stockpile
That handiwork goes.
Though some unattached pieces
My aunt did produce
Found their way to my granddaughter
For a new use.
Now her dolls all have blankets,
Two interests in sync,
Crossing ages and miles
In such a sweet link.
you know i did alot of bad things back in the day
i was the type that had to have everything my way
i ventured off into a little this and a little that
and always kelpt a job to cover my tracks
use to think i was gods gift to the girls
did'nt have much but act as if i owned the world
i was smart evil and very rude
a great head on my shoulder with a bad attitude
back then there was almost nothing i would not do
even had my brush with the law a time or two
there was nothing i did'nt know
been almost everywhere i wanted to go
and nobody but God really knew
all those things that i've been through
i've survived so many times never knowing how
that's why i'm a totally different person now
i dont play all those games any more
i have so much in life now to live for
good wife good home and bills glore
might not have a whole lot but a long way from being poor
i often reminess and say things was alot better at first
but i thank God for what i have cause things could've been alot worst
I need me
All we all need Jesus
He's for us
I need me]
And you all need Jesus, we all need just Jesus, Jesus
The Father of all kin we all need just Him alone
All we need is Jesus
The Father of all men, we need Him
Forever over and over again
He's are very friend once again
All you need is Jesus
We all, we all need Jesus
Grasses and flowers
Need rain showers
So that they may grow
Everybody needs a cover
Every sister needs a brother
The Father of all men, we need Him
Forever over and over again
He's are very friend once again
All you need is Jesus
We all, we all need Jesus
He's for us
All we all need Jesus
All you need is Jesus
We all need yes we need
We all need Jesus
04/20/10
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Arranged music by Innocent Nikiema
from anthology "Nethaniah Man of God "
New Moon
Ships once moved on calm blue rolling oceans
Carried by tidal forces and winds in gentle motions
Lands and seas bordered one another peacefully
Once the orbits of the worlds turned in tranquility
Now the seas scramble in strange angles to the sky
Fight like warriors on the horizon as they rise
Waters reach thousands of feet high to cover continents
At first we thought conspiracy, a plot by Communists
Ever since the new moon arrived from outer space
To join our other one rotating in its place
Earth just isn't the same old place of peace and order
Doomsday is right around the corner
That giant wall of water heading toward you is a tsunami
You had better say your prayers and call your mommy
(I still think this is the consequence of Putin and the commies.)
To play a guitar is one thing I always yearned
On a day like any other I finally decided to learn.
My Son's Guitar is made for a child, small in stature.
I strum the strings, an out of tune melody is what my ears capture.
Last time I tried I quit, knowing the challenge of acquiring a new skill.
So I download an app, now in tune it's ready and that's how I feel.
An acoustic guitar can make wonderful music, in the right hands.
My fingers are clumsy, like a man lost in unfamiliar land.
Starting from the beginning I learn about the instrument.
The strings, frets, how to tune and I'm lost in the moment.
Electric energy flows from me, happy and excited.
I'm playing riffs and melodies, I know my dad would be proud I finally tried it.
I'm close to 40 years old but I feel a youthful joy playing music.
Dad has been gone 25 years, so I learn a song for him that's nostalgic.
So amped I am I send a song to my brother.
"Nothing else matter's" resonates the air, still new and fresh I play a rookie cover.
He gives encouraging words and tells me to keep it up.
So I play on with a thirst for more as I try to fill my musical cup.
Chords, notes and practice have been a test of concentration.
I learn "wonderful tonight" for my honey and I'm filled with elation.
My Son's Guitar has blessed me in a time of hardship and I'm so glad.
I hope one day my Son will play and think of me, like how I thought of my Dad. ????
-Love you Dad and my dear Son
When I look into a mirror these days…my old face is what I see…
and many is the day I wonder…how this came to be.
As I look a little closer…I touch my face and say,
“Where did all these wrinkles come from…and what’s with all this gray?”
For me…what makes this seem so unbelievable, so dreamlike…so unreal
is the me I see in the mirror often looks so much older than I feel.
Which leads me to wonder…
every time I see that old man’s face staring back at me
if our bodies on the outside and how we feel on the inside…grow old differently.
What if our old age shows up on the outside…
hence the color gray and the wrinkles on our skin…
but what if our youth…protected by our body…ages more slowly…from within.
What if we’re more like a book and our body is the cover…
a cover that as we age has weathering we can’t hide…
but what if our cover is there to protect and preserve
our youthfulness and our story that’s inside?
What if, understanding this, as we age…
we open our cover a little more slowly…gently…with great care…
knowing memories of when we were younger…are waiting for us there.
And for a while as we visit the memories we find inside the pages of our book
For a moment as if by magic…we are younger than we look.
Which is why most times when I pass a mirror today
and see that old man with all those wrinkles on my skin…
I open the weathered cover of my book…to find the younger man within.
At the edge of town stood, a government research centre
It was heavily guarded, no unauthorised persons could enter
The authorities put down rumours, saying its just a research station
But word got out they were trying, to open an other dimension.
One night a massive blast took off the research station roof
If anyone doubted the rumours, here now was the proof
The gates of hell opened, with the sound of blood curdling screams
And out poured tall green creatures, only found in hellish dreams.
They were humanoid winged reptilians with eyes a blood red
The townspeople heard the blast, many of them were in bed
All the streetlights went out and the sky turned pitch black
Under the cover of darkness the creatures launched an attack.
They entered every house and mutilated everyone inside
There was pools of blood everywhere; hundreds had died
The police and army arrived and fired shell after shell
But they too were slaughtered by these demons from hell.
They kept coming out of the portal and went from town to town
They were annihilating mankind and they weren't slowing down
By the next day they'd invaded, across the world every land
No weapons could stop them, they had the upper hand
World leaders held an urgent meeting and agreed a strategy
But that strategy would mean, the end of humanity
The plan was to launch nuclear missiles, it was the only way
If mankind couldn't rule the earth then neither would they.
The countdown time was agreed and it was announced worldwide
Everyone told to stay at home, with your loved ones by your side
People were crying, religious leaders urged people to pray
Ten minutes later earth was vaporised on mankind's darkest day.
Written on 30th April 2021
A Poem of Horror Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Funom Makama.
The affliction I have encountered has fastened my lips,
And I am at a loss for words therefore my feelings I cannot express.
However, as I dip the end of my quill into apprehension,
And with urgency of these accounts, I am compelled to...confess.
Yet me fear is that the paper shall not bear the weight...
Of the emotional agony that my heart has experienced of late.
It so happened, that my heart was fashioned amidst a floral bouquet,
And presented to a loved one who I thought may appreciate this fragile display.
It’s symbolic interpretation conveying the importance of love with marital intent,
When I learned of its acceptance, it brought feelings of sheer delight and a sense that it was well spent.
However, as the years ebbed away and love was an inconvenience that caused a rift,
Well my love stood firm but alas hers had gone adrift.
Her speech that was once nectar, now lacked the evocation of affection,
Her conduct boasts utter resentment and rejection.
She speech id flavoured with words of severing our connection,
A pretence to cover her affairs by avoid public circumspection.
My lips are conserved by love’s rebuff and mournful sorrow,
Even my pen fails to compose my hearts deepest tenderness and is considered a foe.
I have no alternative but to mend my broken heart and adorn it in an array,
To seek a true dwelling place next to one that appreciates it’s beauty and hope it will come one day.
If I showed you the real me …would you accept me ?
If I showed you my insecurities… would you want me?
So many people say they want to see the real you but when you show them who you are, they walk away from you ...they really want the fake version of you.
Its strange how we look to others to be a perfect image and we all have limitations...its unreal to expect perfection in anyone...you are not perfect...so why ask that of me
We all live behind a mask ...We only show people what we want them to see. How about really looking at me ...seeing me ...showing you the me without all the walls I have built around myself to look perfect for the society in which we live ...removing the cover girl image of me ...then you would see the real me .
Love is about accepting the bad with the good, no one is perfect...if you look beyond outer beauty... you would discover real honesty.
Seeing someone for who they are, imperfection and all is love with perfection
The wind blowing softly, the gentle breeze you feel above.
The sky above so blue with envy, the showers of mystical love.
A vast amount of clouds role in and cover this beauty you did see.
The soft wind that was blowing, is now a gust, a gale wind turned into a fury.
The storm is now a brewing, it's turning into a hurricane quite very quickly hurry it is turning fast.
See when something you thought would last forever, it turned out it would never last.
Instead now it has changed so quickly it to something so different and something you never thought it would ever be.
And that something is something completely different in its entirety.
Josh vanham april 5 2017