Long Denver Poems
Long Denver Poems. Below are the most popular long Denver by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Denver poems by poem length and keyword.
This is the third in a trilogy of steeler poems and while it is good on its own.I really had fun with this one. All three need read for the full story to be told.
Oh they have won the Superbowl
It's what I said would be
The Seahawks wings were clipped
Now we can laugh, hee hee
I am so excited
I want to give a cry
The Steelers won the Superbowl
They did it on the fly
Now a wildcard was their fate
No chance to win at all
At least that's what the experts said
This trip came with a fall.
First off would be the Bengals
These cats would show their claws
They almost won the game
But we showed up their flaws
There quarterback would stumble
He'd have to leave the game
Without him they were lost
Without him they were lame
Next would be the colts
Which was the favorite team
They thundered with their hooves
Each game they played was lean
This did not faze these men
Who'd tame and brake these colts
No one would stop these guys
Will Ben through thunderbolts
Two games they played that day
As the refs played dirty pool
But they would not be stopped
Oh they would win this duel
It almost did not happen
As the bus would lose the ball
But Ben would make an awesome save
With that they'd win it all
Now Denver came up next
But they'd fall like all before
These broncos would be busted
Then wipped til they were sore
Now that's how they arrived
To play in the big game
They brought home number five
Now we're not quite the same
The Bus now has retired
To the hall of fame he's bound
Now Ward won MVP
He play this game quite sound
Big Ben was not his best
Still though he won the game
The youngest to do so
This year none will complain
With that I'll end this poem
It's been a great great ride
I hope to see it come again
So we can tan some hide.
In the winter of 1873, Alfred Packer was hired to guide a prospectin' trek.
In the San Juans of Colorady they'd heard of gold that they wanted to check.
Alfred claimed that in Colorady minin' camps he'd driven wagons of ore.
He guaranteed he'd show 'em the valuable stuff that they were lookin' for!
They visited sage old Chief Ouray and he warned 'em to wait 'til spring,
To cross those rugged tors, but no, they wanted to press on and do their thing!
So foolish Albert and five of the group decided to trudge on through the snow!
Of the blindin' snow, lack of grub and perilous paths, little did they know!
A few months later Packer appeared at an Indian Agency lookin' fit and well!
He said he'd been left behind due to injuries, one of many tales he was to tell!
His story changed several times sayin' one man went berserk and killed the rest!
There was evidence that cannibalism was involved but old Albert never confessed!
Packer was jailed in Saguache but later made his escape to Wyoming state!
He was nabbed and returned to Salt Lake City for a trial and sentencin' date.
"They was seven Dimmycrats in the county", pronounced the judge from the bench,
"But yah man-eatin' sunuvab**ch, yah et five of 'em, fer that yer neck'll wrench!"
Later the sentence was reduced to manslaughter and he was given forty years,
To be served at the pen in Canon City, Colorady, but no one shed any tears!
He was paroled in 1901 and moved to Denver where he hung around.
Now his molderin' bones rest in peace 'neath a grassy burial mound!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 7 in Carolyn Devonshire's "Legend" Contest - April 2011
Charlie the woodchopper of Fremont
began to build his new home,
it had to have an elegant dome
with a golden trim glittering at night.
Charlie couldn't afford
a Victorian mansion and settled
for a modest ranch with small rooms
and a patio with a sliding door;
there, apple trees swayed
and stranded cats played...
Brawny, the dog, guarded the house's windows
from that armed intruder,
Charlie's rifle was ready to make gunshot fumes
and scare the thief wearing his stolen trousers!
Charlie lost his adorable wife
to a car accident, she hit a tree head-on
while being distracted by a deer
driving across a wet road in Denver;
since then he lived life in strife...
a widower who refused to remarry
and break the matrimonial vows;
what he has left now is a cocaine addict son!
Charlie spends his time reading the Daily Review
which is one of the newspapers free to senior citizens,
and he often wipes off his reading glasses that look new,
but taking them off he loses the perception of things;
his days are long and sad, he wishes he had
a companion, but Leonor cannot be replaced
by anyone...she smiles at him from a portrait
he painted himself on a wood plaque and it seems real!
Quite a few times he has wept and tried
to deal with his unbearable pain, but only prayers could!
He only listens for Leanor's voice that has a ghostly sound!
I wanted to write a poem
About the Daffodil
But when I tried to fit it
In a form, it lost all its thrill
I wanted to say how lovely
Swaying upon the hill
Dancing in the morning breeze
Sporting her yellow frill
Daffodils fill my senses
Like a tulip in springtime
Like a star studded midnight
Like a fire on cold winter's eve
Their bright golden center
Like a golden sunrise
Daffodils in spring centre
Even when clouds fill skies
Daffodils light up my life
When my hope had gone
From winter's drear strife
Daffodil you help me go on
For your bright sunny
Center lights up my life
You are nature's bonny
Excellent flower of highlife
(Kind of borrow some from "Annie's Song" sung by John Denver...
Colorado Cowboy Saga
Grandad became a cowboy,
Though born in the mountains of Tennessee,
His family moved to Colorado –
Just when he turned three;
Fleeing from the Civil War’s animosity
Traveled in a wagon ‘cross the wide prairies
Four brothers taught the youngest child
How to ride and brand
How to feed the cattle
How to take a stand
How to rope, how to ranch
And care for the land
He grew up tall and strong
Like the mountains of his heartbeat
In winter and in summer
They called his restless feet
And Grandad knew the mountains
Like city kids know streets
And with his pinto pony
Rode the mail every day
Nederland to Central City
Oh, he knew the way –
Sometimes frozen in the saddle
For warm weather he prayed.
Drove the cows to Denver
From high country fields
With sharp whistles and with yells
He stayed on the cattle’s heels
Through the cut at Boulder
For the sweet autumn grass revealed
When I was a little girl
On grandad’s lap I’d sit
He’d tell me of his boyhood
Cowboy tales true grit
How he loved his cowboy life
Maybe he fudged a bit?
The city was my birthplace
I knew and loved it well
But in my heart grandad planted
A cowboy song to tell
Though he dreamed of bustling cities
His heart bewitched by a cowboy spell.
True story.
Even though my grandfather became an entrepreneur, he never forgot his childhood as a cowboy in the mountains and prairies of Colorado.
1-31-21
Contest: Cowboy Poetry
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Dixon Bullinger braced himself against
another frozen blast of winter wind,
riding through the front range to Denver
where his family was a-waiting.
It was morning on Christmas Eve,
and he was a long time overdue,
but Boss McChord had paid him double
to rescue horses from being consumed.
They’d taken out a problem bear
and had a drink to celebrate,
he’d exchanged good wishes with the boys,
then had set about upon his way.
He rounded a corner in a craggy gorge,
and there he saw a stunning sight:
Santa Claus sat on an empty sleigh,
brooding sadly amidst the white.
Dix rode up, and doffed his hat,
saying,”Father Christmas! What are the odds!
May I ask why you are sitting here though,
‘tis the skies that you usually trod?”
Santa then sadly shook his head,
said,”My boy, you don’t understand.
I stopped for a rest and was robbed blind
by a gang of five masked men!
“They took my sack and with it
all the gifts for the boys and girl.
if I cannot somehow get it back,
there’ll be no presents for the world.”
Dix frowned deeply at the thought,
a coldness creeping into him.
Christmas may have been more than gifts,
but try telling that to the kids!
He said,”If you’ll ride with a fool cowpoke,
I’ll gladly help you find the fiends.
A Christmas with no gifts to give…
that’s not something this world needs.
“I have some skill at tracking, see,
from months chasing stray cows.
If you point me the way they went,
we’ll lick these bandits, and how!”
Santa nodded and pointed off
to a narrow slot canyon,
“That’s the way they all took off,
when the foul deed was done.
“If you start along tracking them,
I will follow as soon as I can.
My reindeer are bushed from today’s work,
Donner is nearly all done in.
“But once they’ve had a breather,
I’ll fly them up into the air.
If you leave a trail for me to follow,
I’ll catch up and meet you there!”
Dixon nodded and removed
his brand new, red, silk scarf.
He cut off a piece and then said,
“This here is bright as any spark.”
With that he took to the trail,
riding down that rocky cleft,
to save Christmas for the little ones
he’d undue this savage theft…
CONTINUES IN PART II.
Copper metal is a valuable wartime commodity.
Something new was needed for the cent in 1943.
A strange composition the United States Mint would reveal.
Lincoln’s profile appeared on a coin made of steel.
It was plated with zinc to reduce oxidation.
They were struck at all three mints in the nation.
The three cities were ones that most people would know.
They were Philadelphia, Denver, and San Francisco.
Here is an interesting little trivia tidbit:
This coin is the only one that can be drawn to a magnet.
However, zinc-coated cents were made for just one year.
Afterward, familiar bronze cents would reappear.
The mint made a move two years before that was similar.
They replaced the nickel in five-cent pieces with silver.
A large “P”, “D”, or “S”, appeared above Monticello.
This indicated a silver five-cent piece so you would know.
The following year, production of steel cents would cease.
The mint used the metal to make the Belgian two-franc piece.
Therefore, this is what the United States Mint did for the war.
After 1945, we did not have to worry about it anymore.
This picture is of the Columbine flower by John Denver.
(He was dead long before the shootings at Columbine.)
In my life, I was so blessed to meet you.
You cherished all people, nature, and I think
God designed His glorious sky just for you, too!
Besides your music, I know you cared about
all the hungry folks on this earth.
And you started the Hunger Project wherein
people could plant from our God’s fine earth.
You sang of God’s creation, which is far more
than I will ever do.
What an infinitesimal thing a POTD is, well, John,
when compared to your tunes.
I am so glad to this day, I had a personal chance
to talk with you.
You were as humble and beautiful as the twinkling
stars at night we love to view!
I have no idea why your plane crashed so-suddenly,
with you into the dark sea..
But here is one of your photographs, that is as beautifully
created ……as thee!
6/26/2023
...It was two days before she lost them,
and an arrow slashed her small finger,
a small wagon train did take her in,
but a doctor found gangrene in her,
chopped her pinkey with barely a word.
Fever set in and it was two weeks,
she got so sick she could barely speak.
At Denver she left the settler crowd,
only to learn that Merlon was gone,
he’d been absent about two years now,
and his trapping has never been strong,
that he would’ve gone bust before long.
Celeste felt that her heart would soon break,
but she heard word he was in Salt Lake.
Once more on the trail Celeste did go,
through frozen and rocky mountains high,
taking hard paths she didn’t much know,
in those cold peaks she often did find
that her stomach was kissing her spine,
lost fifteen pounds in that rocky span,
but finally saw the Mormon lands…
She soon learned where Merlon was living,
rode towards his spread with a smile,
couldn’t believe this was happening,
she’d not felt such hope for a while,
and prayed for rewards for her trials,
but when she made it to his cabin
she saw a woman standing with him.
Celeste froze at this awful scene,
Merlon gasped and ran up to her mare,
he then cried out,”My dear Celestine…
Please, oh will you come down from up there?
You are looking half-dead, have a care.”
Celeste was too broken to shed a tear,
Merle just asked,”How did you end up here?”
She cried,”I came to find my fiancé,”
but said nothing of all the great harms,
the woman came up and Celeste’s gaze
fixed upon a baby in her arms,
she was too broken to feel alarm.
Merlon said,”But I thought you’d hate me,
I’m a deserter, so unworthy…”
She barely heard his words as he spoke,
feeling as if her whole life was done,
she couldn’t breathe, she wanted to choke,
Heard him say,”But I am now Mormon,
and God doesn’t limit wives to one.
Yes, my dear, I think we’ll welcome her,
another wife, to be your sister.”
The wife just looked on, her face quite blank,
Said,”Bring my sister in from the cold.”
“Ah,”cried Merle,”Our family gives thanks!”
Celeste numbly did as she was told,
she was soiled, and thirty years old.
not something most wanted in a bride,
so she let this man lead her inside…
Here They Come
Reflecting on When They Won
It Is the Raiders Who Are Now Living Here
To Allow Las Vegas To Let Out A Devious Cheer
Jon Gruden Known as Chucky
Will Hope to Roll Those TD Sevens to Be Lucky
Then There Is Derek Carr In the Driver’s Seat
Looking to Take Down Their Football Guest in The Desert Heat
Las Vegas Gave A Piece of Land
To A Well-Known Brand
That May Import the Oakland Fan
Wanting to Keep That Summer Suntan
They Wear Their Silver and Black
Ready to Defend the Gridiron Attack
From LA, KC and Denver, They Will Arrive
Trying to Come Up with That Weekend Lie
Yeah, We Know How to Beat Vegas, They Will Say
Until Check Out Time When the Raiderette Working Registration Requests for The Pay
At Least Eight Times the Visitor Will Get Room Service
Before Getting to The Stadium Where They Will Be Nervous
Through Thick and Thin
Remember What the Hotel Says Wynn Encore Wynn
With All This California Stuff Buried in The Past
Raiders Will Not Be in Last
They Will Ride the Bronco at Gilleys
Get Charged Inside Wet and Willies
And When It Comes to The Chiefs
There Will Be No Relief
For All This to Work
We Must Take Our Fork
From That Imaginary Devil
And Rise to The Raider Level