Long Every week Poems
Long Every week Poems. Below are the most popular long Every week by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Every week poems by poem length and keyword.
Dad
I can't believe
Your here old man
You made it through the rough..
I love your
Laugh and chuckle..
For me that is enough.
But boy you've had a lifetime
And crammed it full of stuff
You climbed and walked
And cycled and taught
And shared to thrill
Despite your failing memory..
So deep those waters still.
You're table tennis champ.
You're youth club hero, nifty.
Fridays every week you did..
Until you landed fifty
You're Dad, and Grandpa, Brother
You've been Friend aswell to.. any..
A Husband, Leader, Teacher
An Uncle to so many..
You worked for forty years
Making chemicals for foam.
I'm very happy to have been
A member of your home.
And when it's all said and done
IF you finally get the call..
We'll spend our lives reminiscing
Of your story, to enthrall..
The ears of little ones
You'll never get to meet
They'll hear of your adventures;
All the stuff you'd like to eat..
Of your music tastes,
And passions, of adventures far and NEAR..
Of Singapore. And Germans.
Lost underpants. Of chicken wire and beer
But for this moment here and now
We sit with you and cheer..
You made it (phew)
And here you sit before us
At your 90 years plus two.
So Dad.. there are no words..
I've scribbled down a few
But really all you need to know
We're here because..
The one we love is you
Jinjagoliath
12th March 2023
Let me give you some advice
Take it, leave it but be nice
If you take it, you will pass
If you leave it, you may pass
Attend classes at your college
This will help increase your knowledge
Try to be on friendly terms
With your teachers all the terms
Show them how you play your part
Make them say you are smart
Prepare your work in advance
Or spend your lecture in a trance
Do your homework every week
And in the lecture be so meek
Ask your teachers all the time
Asking them is not a crime
When you ask them, be so kind
This will never make them mind
If you give a wrong answer
Don't think you've caused cancer
Learning means you make a mistake
It's not a matter of make or break
When you learn it, put a side
And you have made a giant stride
If you listen well to me
Happy, happy you will be.
It's like a traditional meadow,
Mixed grasses tossed and blown
Bobbing and swaying until the day
It's high and ready to be mown.
There are thistles, buttercups, clover,
Such a mixture to make a tasty hay
I do hope it won't be wasted come
That eventual harvest day.
The little Hawthorn sapling
Has blossomed a shade of
Of pink or maybe even red
Am not good at Colours but
I can see it in my head.
I sit on the seat every week
After my long slow walk,
Sometimes I play her music,
But always I talk:
Tell her how I'm trying
To get on with a life
And how I still miss
The companion of my life.
Every week, although I try
tears stream down my face
When it's time to go and leave
her in this peaceful place
Where the deer graze the roses
Birds fly haphazardly to and fro,
Where insects hum and buzz and
Windblown grasses sway and flow
The Gardener
The lovely lady goes to church,
I see her every week.
I know her name,
Fairy…
Garden…
Angel…
You plant seeds,
tiny, like mustard…
You cover them with love,
understanding, and compassion.
Yet you are so much more!
Your life was taken,
God took it back.
He extended his olive branch.
Now you fight to save the rest,
It… is a test.
Plant your seeds my friend,
for they will grow,
to great trees, and mighty oaks.
Flowers of surprising colors,
watered elegantly,
with your gentleness.
Your face shines, my friend.
The light of Our Lord,
the Mighty Gardener is HE…
Yet, “He” lovingly,
uses ready hands,
steady hands,
your hands,
to turn the soil,
and sow the seeds,
to share from “your” own heart.
Blessings on you, Angel!
Moved out to the country, isolated and without a car, I don’t know what I would have done without my new friends Mrs. Juhas and Mrs. Gatien. They forced me to call them by their first names, it only became easier once the friendship deepened. Ida took me into town for grocery shopping every week. We’d do the rounds based on the sales flyers from A&P, IGA and Dominion. Vi only had two children compared to my six and Ida’s seven. Every week we had a cookday alternating with Vi and Ida, one week at our place the next at theirs. Hostesses buying the food and deciding on the meals to make: chili con carne, cabbage rolls, spaghetti sauce… The priority was obvious, it was more important to buy a freezer than a washing machine.
hungry bellies fed
families on a budget
smooth production line
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I can no longer touch my toes
Or stop an unexpected runny nose,
It has become an issue
To find a handkerchief or tissue.
My loo has moved
I am not sure
It seems farther away than it was before
I often have to try to run
Before I realised what I'd done.
I now have a shower chair
Where I bathe and wash my hair
I mutter to myself all-day
I hope nobody can hear the things I say.
My grey matter is fading fast,
I wonder how long it will last
My social life is up the creek
As I am at the Doctors every week.
A specialist sent me to the gym
To strengthen my muscles
To help improve the state I'm in
You would laugh if you could see
The aerobic ancient Old Duck me.
I now row a machine
That's never been
Near water
I walk on a treadmill
Although I falter.
The weights I can't lift very high
Perhaps next session,
I'll have a better try,
I love the exercise bike.
I can travel anywhere
I like.
Even though I don't move
My imagination improves
As I cycle down the country lane
I feel like a girl again.
The Grocer and Dreamer
The local grocer calls his shop
The best supermarket in town
Although his shop is small
He has big dreams, sells jam
tinned beans, bananas, lemon
and chocolate cakes
He also sells local wine made
on a plot, run by his brother
In the morning, he has fresh
From a bakery that has few
Customers as it sells real bread
That is not packed in plastic
A big supermarket nearby
Will open soon
Our grocer, harassed by health
Inspectors every week sold
The shop to the new supermarket
They promptly closed his shop
The grocer who had big dreams
Bought a van and sells groceries
In the countryside
I have three demons that dwell inside of me
They say that I must listen when they speak
So they make themselves known to all my friends.
And they tell me I must feed them every week
I don’t know how these demons found me
For I have never walked along a crooked road.
They argue with me every night and day
Is there a magic I can use? is there a secret code?
Some poets say there’s another me inside, but
I have not read anywhere about having three.
At night I say my prayers but they wont let me be.
I look up for help, but no one hears my plea
My true self in me is really quite a bore perhaps
Thats why these demons came to me. Now
I have plenty friends and I’m popular in school
So I’ll just keep feeding them and get along somehow
There was a store in Brooklyn selling
Food we’d often crave.
The owners were a couple
Known to all as Ruth and Dave.
On weekends I was sent there
Walking just a few short blocks
To buy bagels, cream cheese, whitefish
And some thin-sliced salty lox.
At times there was baked salmon
And if my mom had the urge,
On chocolate-covered jells
And graham crackers we would splurge.
It wasn’t every week we’d get
Those yummy foods to eat.
We knew a trip to Ruth and Dave’s
Was for a special treat.
So many years have passed I’m sure
That Ruth and Dave are dead,
But I can see them smiling,
She with braids piled on her head.
We grow up bonding
we become inseparable
share dreams and hopes together
waiting to explore life on our own
then in a blink we graduate
go our separate ways
keep in touch every week
then every other
years will pass like clouds
phone calls and numbers change
so do addresses and last names
Life goes on
we find others to bond with
become inseparable with our mates
share new dreams and hopes together
living life as we grow older
than in a blink I'm gone
going our separate ways once again
you visit the cemetery daily
then weekly....
before long my grave becomes overgrown
your address changes
mine stays the same
Life goes on