Long Eighth Poems
Long Eighth Poems. Below are the most popular long Eighth by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Eighth poems by poem length and keyword.
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
Many things make up my Christian life,
there are some I don't and some I do.
The first, through faith, is never doubt,
secondly, to God, be forever true.
The third thing in my Christian life,
seek daily some Godly work.
The fourth is to pray for patience.
that my vows, to God, I'll never shirk.
The fifth, in Him, I'll always have hope,
the sixth, in me, let charity abound.
Seventh, to be God's witness to a lost world,
the eighth, each day, spread joy around.
The ninth thing that I'll strive to do,
is never repeat idle tales.
The tenth, and last, always trust in God,
He's the balm for all my ails.
It's hard to say
How I came to this day
The chance of my birth's selection
Tending to fall close to elections
Four years ago, on my birthday, I lost some hope
Because she lost, although winning more votes
But now the process of democracy revived my faith
The best gift I could ask this November eighth
The me in my twenties would not have been fair
To this middle aged woman with extra weight and gray hair
She would have judged me a sad cliche
Hot tea and online poetry - old maid's play
Cooking shows and documentaries - what a bore!
She thought more about unrequited love's score
She despised football as a brutal, blood stained tower
Now I see it as chess with muscle, a ballet of power
It's true, I have now what I didn't before
A ring, a house, a family to care for
A long way from the single who burned TV dinners
A lot less cynical (though I wouldn't mind being thinner)
So to all you 'old maids' of sonnet and haiku
Welcome me! I'm one of you!
11/08/20
I’m Henry the Eighth I am
Henry the Eighth I am I am!
I remember singing this
At the top of my lungs
at church camp when I was twelve
Thank you Herman’s Hermits
My camp mate, Clarisse had introduced me
To Peter Noone, and the other Hermits.
Herman’s Hermits they called themselves
I had no idea how I survived without
knowing about them
When I hear “Tell me Baby,
Mrs. Brown you have a lovely daughter,
Dream on,” and “Listen people”
I begin to drive a bit faster,
Turning back into the teenager I used to be.
I’m Henry the Eighth I am,
Henry the Eighth, I am, I am…..
Singing this immediately changes me
back into a preteenager, and makes me smile.
________________
Heroine content with her beloved’s
love, affection and dedication,
one with her own mind.
____________________
Heard had I tales of male malefaction
By and large true, far from fiction,
As happens oft, one out to prey
Gets hunted O to be the prey.
Full of hopes I’m your spouse,
Not filled with any grouse,
For, you my love belied this old wisdom,
I’ve been a free bird in your kingdom--
A truth that needs no proof,
Nor display from a tallest roof.
Lifelong shall ye be my temple’s deity,
We shall be together for life
Lived forever and rife
If not for eternity.
_______________________
Natya Shastra |08.02.2025| Free verse,
Note: This is eighth of Ashta-Nayikas, eight heroine types, as classified in a Sanskrit treatise on performing arts in Bharata’s Natya-Shastra. The state (avastha) of the eight romantic heroines widely themed in Indian paintings, literature, sculpture, classical dance forms and music. Swadhina-bhatruka is the eighth of the eight such heroines depicted here in poetic form.
the day the doctor told me you were dying
mother, I was so afraid, unsure and frightened
unclear of what to do and so I listened to others
I should have brought you home to die
but I did not do that, no I didn't
you could have been at home with me at your side
in your own bed with your purring sweet cat
and soothing music and a view of azure blue sky
that cat waited and searched for you, mom
for months and months and months
when you got sick I did not hesitate to move home
we were like happy roommates in the beginning
then ever so slowly I was doing all the banking
the groceries, the cooking, while still working
I became your mother over time
but I did not mind one moment of that journey
we talked and talked and buried all the anger
I would have done anything for you, even given my life
because you were the one person who loved
me, without reserve, totally and completely
and when the end came, mom, I failed you bitterly
I should have brought you home to die, I know now
so I am begging for 'forgiveness' from you and from God
this pain, a knife in my heart every day, I breathe
but my forgiveness will never come, never ever
"oh, the tears, the tears . . . "
______________________________________
February 16, 2015
Poetry/Narrative/"oh, the tears, the tears"
Copyright Protected, ID 02-641-230-16
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Forgiveness,
sponsor, Rob Carmack, Judged 03/2015
Eighth place
"Mom." "Back so soon." "Michelangelo sculpt
his heart out--a goddess." "Blasphemy." "Dreamt
you up, he did--and no, it's true." "Your breadth
is solid." "My breath?" "About, pops, your bronzed
god." "No, 'twas an award statue." "That prompts
you to ask him for a date ..." "A swim." "Depth
for many seasons to check out, the eighth
wonder of the world." "John..., Until the twelfth ..."
"Mama, I'm here, Mama" "My son." "Chimney
stack goes off, like pops." "Your dad ... my husband
that you bring back to life, we're all foible."
His messy desk, but he knows it, angry
when I first cleaned HIS mess--divine sanction,
we're blessed ...," "Mom ... (sigh) ... you're also my angel."
MINDFULNESS
Monitoring mind magnificently.
Intensive intrinsic introspection.
Navigating mind to concentrate.
Devotion and dedication devoid of distraction.
Full form of conscience to realize
Unclasping disturbance and understanding calmness.
Letting restlessness to subside boosting placidity.
Noble attention to focal point.
Engrossed emotion enlightening ecstatic status of mind.
Static sublime mental state
Sowing seed of attentiveness to sprout.
02/13/19
Eighth Place
'Mindfulness' Contest by Chantelle Anne Cook
February Wk 4 Contest by Brian Strand
Seems King 'Enry The Eighth in 'is choice of wives wasn't all that judicious.
To 'Is Grace's regret they were either too ambitious, promiscuous or capricious!
'E solved such prickly matters for five of them by divorce or grisly be'eadation!
'E 'ad to protect 'is own somewhat dubious reputation as 'ead of the nation!
Anne Boleyn and Kate 'Oward lost their 'eads to the dreaded axe,
For being a tad froward with 'Enry and with morals somewhat lax!
Marriages to Anne of Cleves and Kate of Aragon were conveniently dissolved.
Jane Seymour did 'er duty giving 'im a male heir, then died - crisis solved!
Kate Parr was widowed when King 'Enry crossed that mysterious River Styx,
But 'is five other wives as 'istory records, were left in one 'ell of a fix!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Fluttering, drifting
to and fro it soars
it dances in the mighty wind
it twirls, it swirls
There
upon a sheer jagged rocky cliff
an Appaloosa horse of many colors stands majestic
There
under this blazing azure sky
an Ojibwa girl looks at the beautiful land of Canada
There
in the mighty wind that roars
a feather lost from her raven hair, quietly moves
There
far below the Ottawa River thunders
and the vast lands of wilderness stretch to the horizon
There
above in a perfect sky
eagles soar, symbolizing "The Peoples" strength
There
in my spirit dream
the only sound is the wind that moves my feather
Fluttering, drifting
to and fro it soars
it dances in the mighty wind
it twirls, it swirls
______________________
March 21, 2023 (Repost)
Poetry/Free Verse/My Feather
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1532-991-21
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Submitted into the Premiere contest, Strand No 1201
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 03/22/2023
Eighth Place