Long Depicting Poems
Long Depicting Poems. Below are the most popular long Depicting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Depicting poems by poem length and keyword.
McGee's young grandson walked out to the porch
Where McGee was rocking away
"Grandpa, where did mankind come from ?''
So, McGee thought of what he should say
"A long time ago, it was Adam and Eve
They got married, and made love in the woods
Then she got pregnant, and her babies had babies
And this fill the earth as it should"
"That's just find," the young boy replied
But Grandma said something depicting
that we all evolved from the Monkeys and Apes
So why are your stories conflicting"
McGee scratched his head, then softly He said
"Your Grandma's still right, don't you see
She was merely referring to all of those folks
that came from Her own family tree"
Oft' I've traveled on interstate highways to reach my final destination,
With white knuckles grasping the steering wheel in great trepidation!
I whiz along at seventy-five and for my safety offer a fervent prayer.
'Tis akin to driving the Indy 500 speeding like a bat out of you know where!
I prefer to whiz along at 25 miles per hour on a quaint country road,
Enjoying scenery sans billboards and such in a more relaxing mode!
I can stop by an eatery for good ol' country grub run by Mom and Pop,
And browse among other peoples trash at my leisure in an antique shop!
I stop by to fill up on gas and happily discover something rather rare;
The man fills the tank, cleans the windshield and checks my tires for air!
Fields of amber grain gently wave at me depicting a scene so bucolic,
And a herd of deer in a yonder copse contentedly graze and frolic!
A farmer waves to me as he tends his field of melons and cantaloupe,
And I'm thrilled to see across the way a magnificent herd of antelope!
I enjoy the witty verse of poets on Burma Shave Signs along the way,
And faded Mail Pouch Tobacco signs on barns filled with scented hay!
At the whim of each vagabond breeze, old windmills turn and creak.
Timbers rumble as I cross a wooden bridge above a rippling creek.
Although my automobile gathers dust along a road that is graveled,
How I relish traveling along quaint country roads that are less traveled!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
THE ME THAT SHE LIKES IN ME.
The only me she likes in me
Is the me of me only on bed,
For my me is full , strong and lanky.
She is ever laughing vivaciously
On, beside ,with and under me,
Never tired but smiling during
The game called “Bedminton”.
I hardly picks point for
She is a non-stop poacher
Poaching and hitting endlessly
Till I fade away finally.
She was of no special brain
Neither does she got unique intellect
But she is of everything in “Bedminton” .
I became very lanky as she grumbles
And complain of nothing but lacking something
Despite sucking my bulky lanky “corkky”.
I fled into a hiding , gasping and hoping
Not to have her cross my path again’
Oh no ! here she comes again
Laughing with a rare vigour.
Off I went on the ground as I opened
My eyes at the hospital two days after.
What happened to me ? I echoed
“Thanked God he is alive ,Doctor
Come and discharge us , lets go home”
I fainted again beholding her voice
And her very mean look
Her laughter more stronger than
That of an hyena whose pray is around
I was not too sure if I will ever wake up again.
Alayande Stephen T
16th April, 2006
3.15pm
Spiced up story depicting my same friend with her
Same heartthrob who his battling to abscond from.
OUR
Form:
BOUNDARIES
an
unworld
explicitly
rendered
incorporting
misshapen
pictures
in a
gradual gloom
stubbornly
numb
& constricted
a
statuesque.
impression.
affluent
in
appearance
of
practiced
postures
of
still life
accoutrements
with
plentiful
attributes
universal
&
poignant
throughout
a
glimpse.
a
proof
transplanted
pirouetting
breathes
trabquillity
the
ultimate
contraint
a
sensory
manfestestation
of
creativity
&generosity
in
a
rightful vision
encapsultes
to
resassemble
depicting
the
sanctified
in
continuing
expectations
Hello, my friend.
Some of the things I've read in your book have been rather remarkable.
The 'heavens declare the glory of God'. In a lesser way, so does the ICU.
For example. The only utterance one lady could make was "Ka Ka Ka Ka".
And then she heard the song, Amazing Grace, and began to sing that song.
A voice to talk; a voice to sing. I never knew. How memorable. How amazing.
On Tuesday, July 27th, I documented something I wanted to share with you
concerning the 'bigness of your heart'. In my own mind, it's hard to conceive
of the many people and things you encountered. I don't know if my heart is
big enough to contain all the trauma, the pain, the hurt, the loss, the despair.
I see in you a portrait depicting one who 'rolls over' such burdens on The Lord. You would have otherwise been crushed to powder.
Finally, dear friend, a hope and a prayer with regards to you and this book:
May this book, like its author,
Give hope to the hopeless.
Give a hug; receive a hug.
Turn anger into gratitude.
Turn frowns into smiles.
Provide health and healing.
Provide light in the darkest nights.
Provide a pathway to a doorway to God's way.
Shout out a voice saying, "Give your life to others!".
Define someone's calling with a sense of belonging.
Arrest the indifferent; Capture the heartless.
Become a living text, a manual, a guide.
Restore faith in human goodness.
To any and all, 'In Search Of...',
May it be a Divine Positioning System(GPS),
Helping lost and wandering souls to find their way home.
080321PS
(Dylan Thomas, Oct 1914 – Nov 1953)
I as one who has never touched the shining Big Apple –
as ruthless then as it's ruthless now –
gaze at its romantic pictures
moving on my TV screen
depicting New York's glistening streets
of the nineteen fifties,
the decade Dylan died there.
Screaming lights and busy marquees
dance in the sparkling, winking streets;
cars hopeful and celebrating the light that is night
in a weaving street of what is temporary;
but, hell, what a street! –
one I would live in,
would love in, would die in,
but only after I would cry in it,
cry my happiness to all who would listen,
and think me mad
but know in our shared, hand-held joy
that one from afar loves the streets
of a city he thinks he will never touch.
Sky, Azure blue this afternoon, the golden sun blazing,
I walked along the edge of a quiet beach, the waves lapping
At my feet, the creamy colored sand through my toes running,
Dark, raven-like clouds collided up high, lightening breathtaking,
The rain came own like torrents, and the thunder deafening,
Late afternoon creeps upon me, raindrops decreasing.
A rainbow appears in the sky, intensely alluring,
The heat becomes tolerable, the Crayola coloring
Of this hope driven dream, the rainbow, absolutely outstanding.
I sat on the damp sand as the evening began drawing
Me into a darker night, my mind started wandering,
Imagine me a mermaid with my merman, a myth depicting,
I looked up at a full smiling moon, so enchanting,
The moon now stood out, within an onyx darkening
Sky and the stars glittered like diamonds, silvery, shining,
The full moon shone upon the indigo-colored waves churning,
The horizon dark, the white horses vanilla white, glowing,
The ocean was alive and active, fish jumping and playing
The tide began coming in, so I stood up, a shooting
Star traversed the night sky, what a beautiful ending
To a glorious day by the sea and a night worth applauding.
I quickened my pace and reached my car, repeating
In my mind the happenings and images of the day, composing
Them into a so-called song, wish I could sing, and tell how rewarding
A memory like today recorded in musical song, would be deserving,
" Definitions:
Delineating Means: Depicting or describing.
Deify Means: Adoration or exaltation for a beloved." - Oxford Dictionary -
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Darling, desire dominates dearest dreams.
Daydreams discover deepest devotion.
Despite demonstrative dauntless dedication.
Decades didn’t dampen delicate delights.
Daylight dawned, dazzled by a daisy a day.
Doting directly drives desire to dance.
Determined to declare deify for my dearest.
Distinguished, debonair, dignified date.
Dress, diamond, Diocese, document, a destiny.
Delineating developing dependence divinely.
Deserving dedicated devotion darling.
Dissent divides, devotion defends, to dispel dire divisions.
My childhood memory of Easter confronts me with three very pleasant reflections. Perhaps my first experience with the idea of Easter came with the way our parents would sacrifice so much for us to look pretty and handsome at the church on Easter Sunday. We never felt more special nor looked better than that at any time for any reason.
Coming in second as I look back over several decades ago is the delightful Easter egg hunt. As a child, that was one of the most fun experiences of the year. The hunt was always on Easter Sunday after returning home from church services. There was the added bonus of the hunt within the hunt. That is to say that there was always 'A Golden Egg' that included something extra special that always lit up our happy stary eyes and hearts.
But the third item was the most mysterious of the three even though it always appeared first chronologically. In fact, there was Holy Week that always seemed to flow with a sense of awe. There were movies depicting the 'day Christ died' and the Sunday that he rose. Nevertheless, the Friday before Easter known as Good Friday was a problem for me because I did not understand how a day could be good when such an evil act happened to Jesus. I do not remember when, but heaven surely shined its light on me and explained the goodness of Good Friday. I tell you, that light was so bright that it lit up my entire life and the light of Christ's Goodness and what he did for me and you have served me for a lifetime and will continue to do so throughout eternity.
Certain traditions and celebrations over time often fall by the wayside, and family values and habits change. Life takes on different priorities. Notwithstanding, we must remember that we enter this world with a family standing by our sides, and when we leave this world, families will be there as we exit. Oh, I know that the boiled and painted eggs no longer grace our lawn, and our kids and grandkids may not be as well and formally dressed as we were in yesteryears. That's okay, as long as we never forget as our families gather for dinner this Easter that Easter must always be about THE CHRIST and The Family.
03292018 FB PS Contest, Easter 2018, Hopkins-Drewer
BOUND BY DARKNESS NIGHTS--
My eyes do spy a tender sight
Glitter shadows swirls of silver shone light
Floral imagery pastels reds, blues, greens
Bombarded brilliants shown stills
Picturesque composites
The eyes sees what they do show;
As the brain interprets the views;
Complicated pictures that---glow;
Florescent blindly mighty past hues;
Alas, my eyes sees
since being in and been in
Glory so much so
Depicting the visions stream,
Often bound by darkness nights.
4/28/18
It's All About Four - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings |