Long Deanna Poems
Long Deanna Poems. Below are the most popular long Deanna by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deanna poems by poem length and keyword.
ONE
God made me and God made you hues of every kind
Your blood is as red as mine, and the love of God within us
Blurs the color line.
Grace is clear, salvation free there should only be love between you
And me.
We have only one Father who loves us one and all he has no respect of person
So why do you make that call.
Adjust your attitude, with loving patient deeds, be kind, caring, with understanding,
your words should not hurt, and break they should only fill a need.
Holy Spirit fill our hearts, so our words do not offend, for we are all your children and each other’s friend.
Deanna Malone
Summer
Wildflowers dressed in colors, reaching to the sky
Sunshine is bright and yellow, warming the dirt makes it dry.
Sky so blue, clouds white fluffing shapes of dragons, rabbits and puppies.
Trees, bushes short and tall, watching vines climb the wall
The air is warm, the breeze is slight, it’s a summers day, all is right.
Children laugh, birds sing, butterflies flutter with colorful wings.
Time to swim and bathe in the sun, lemonade and ice cream
Summertime is all for fun.
Come outside, take it all in, fish, hike, ride a bike.
Summer is fresh, summer is bright and everything is alright.
Deanna Malone
in 1923 girl babies were named Nancy, Susan and Ann
boy babies were christened John, Michael, and Joe
then the flappers came along and changed everything
Now girls could be Lois, Louise, and Edna
Boys were approved for names like Samuel and Zeb
During the depression years babies were suffering
They were named for grandparents
Jim, Stuart, Johnathan, Eunice, Maude, Bessie
During the fifties, it was vogue to name your children with the same letter
A family could have Dirk, Deke, Deanna, Dillion and Dwayne
Maurice, Marlene, and Margo lived across the street.
In the sixties names were borrowed from Presidents
Back to the Johns and Samuels, I am not sure about girl names
Seventies arrived; now okay to name your children Freedom and Rainbow
After that, it has been everything and anything goes
Shanty, River, Drake, Tulip, Apple, Bedpan
Baby books cannot keep up with the flow
Know Me
By Deanna Malone
The leaves have fallen the sky is gray,
no birds are singing to help brighten the day.
I start my day with a smile in place
for all to see I have dignity and grace.
\My saddness hidden i'm on my way,
to a job that doesn't quite pay.
\For here I am, mother, father,
friend and foe,instructor,provider
and the list goes on and on you KNOW.
\I strive for growth,perfection and peace,
I must give totally of myself
there are young ones I must reach.
\I am shaping the minds of Doctors, Lawyers,
Preachers,and Teachers.
\Though unappreciated I move forward,
with a light in my eyes anda song in my heart,
I must always be fair, kind and just for in
my hands the future you intrust.
\Do you Know me now? I am teacher indeed
and its not about what Igo through only about a childs needs.
Paris is about attitude and the art of slow living, where nothing’s urgent and everything’s fine.
But if you’re in school, that’s not true. I just began a group project (gp), and to paraphrase William Shakespeare, the storm has come again! GPs are big affairs with slow moving parts, like conceptualization and collaboration - and all that happens before any actual work is done.
Some cultures treat deadlines like casual suggestions but I get absolutely hinky in the loom of deadlines - I pace, chew fingernails and fret.
The other day, a TA (teaching assistant) asked me if I was trying to “prove something.”
The French invented ‘laze faire.’ after all, but I’m American enough to have dismissively said,
“I’d like to prove I can complete the assignment on time.”
Let’s get poet-y..
A trial comes, like a cloud, so dark it should thunder
but there’s no bromide, offer of shelter or tent to mock the storm,
it’s for us - as strangers - to return results which opinion crowns fair.
.
.
Let’s sing the blues:
O.K. I'll Play the Blues - Deanna Bogart
Emotions and Math - Margaret Glaspy
Preachin' Blues by Larkin Poe
Deanna likes her old fashion pink plastic snap curlers.
Has brought them to Ethyl at the beauty shop since 1968.
Hair has survived fifty-one years of the same style
Unfortunately, when she gets there she is told Ethyl has passed.
She trusts none of these other whippersnappers.
What would they know about pink snap curlers?
She doubts they could pop them together, let alone brush her out.
Teasing is probably something they have never been taught.
What about the special cans of hairspray Ethyl keeps for her?
“I can do it, Miss Deanna,” one of the young ones says.
She shakes her head sadly.
She did not even get here until about twenty-five years ago.
What would she know about it?
She leaves clutching her pink snap curlers, angry at Ethyl for dying.
This is her third bad experience this week.
What is up with all these seventy year olds?
What is this need they have to die?