Long Forbes Poems

Long Forbes Poems. Below are the most popular long Forbes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forbes poems by poem length and keyword.


Derrick Claude Forbes

When I think of your name
I think how delightful it was to have known you

You are extraordinary
You are the reason why everything around me 
Looks beautiful and bright

When I dream of you
I hold you dear to my heart
You my love are the reason 
Why everything in my life looks radiant and light

You are the one that has inspired my soul
You are the person that stole my heart
You are charming 
Kissable.

Cute,
Lovable
Adorable
Unforgettable
Dazzling
Exceptional

There is no other name 
That I hold so close to my heart
You my love are everything

You are fabulous
One of a kind
Remarkable
Breath-taking
Elegant 
Seductive

Derrick Claude Forbes
You are the one that is the love of my life.


On the Wings of a Butterfly- POTD - Collab With My Sister Cecilia Crasto

POTD 10th May 2018

A dedication to our departed Mum, Anne Forbes.
 And to all the dearly departed Mums who celebrate Mother’s day on the second Sunday in May.  We will meet again.

The day came when she had to leave
      And we were left behind to grieve
If we could wish her back for a day
      A million things we would need to say

As exquisite as painted silk these wings
I soar past clouds ~ with a Soul that sings

Every precious moment by her side
      Fighting back tears we hold inside
Knowing she would go away
      The Wish ~ was only for a day.

In a whirl of color flying fast
Hastening to a future of Ever last

A Wish granted ~ a butterfly in our midst
      An astral sensation like we’ve been kissed
The Sun shines brighter on this glorious day
      The whispering breeze that seems to say

Pearlescent petals in the air
Shimmering sun beams everywhere

I’m always here ~ I watch you all
      And comfort you if you falter or fall
So dry your tears ~ no need to grieve
      My tangible form ~ you must believe

I never left ~ I love you still
To Eternity’s end ~ I always will
On a whispering wind that gently sighs
I fly like a butterfly ~ there are no goodbyes

POTD 10th May 2018


Video Clip:
"On The Wings Of A Butterfly" by Jimmy Scott.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Australia is calling'

Are you listening out in Wood-wood' in Balranald do you hear in the Hunter and
Newcastle all round Maitland ix it clear?
From Jamestown, in Burra-Burra and from
Port Augusta too will they  stand? speak
Out? Unite..Just do whats right, its time for such to do.' In Wonthaggi and Killarny 
Ballarat and Bendigo, across to Geelong town
Get out be strong 'for that is what best' the Aussies do' in Geraldton and Bunbury past Perth and
Up to Broome, at Hobatt Emerald and Coolgardie be
No longer fooled.' In Forbes and Parkes and
Dubbo, in and Coleraine, Kiama too; Crookwell and
Coffs Harbour Australia calls to you.' If
You are asleep in Tumut, awaken' ask A man Johnny
Larter, our everyday Hero just whats on.' Then tell all your mates too.' in
Yass and also Wagga.' I'm sure they'll come along.'
And in coming then will realise, that mateship
Is  key; is strong ' let your flags fly high till 'bye and 
Bye' you are heard and your villans fall, once again all your women and  man will be free, Now will you respond..To your nations call.'

Baby's First Flight

If so inclined with reservations
Amniotic baby will float on water
Just around the corner of a smile
Embryological y correct you could say
Adequately enclosed in fluid aquatic
Practicing goo goo and gaga for mommy

Clothes would be nice
Naked is better
A hotel will suffice

Is this a room with a womb?
With an ashtray to steal?
With a balcony overlooking tomorrow?
A window to parachute out?

A room with a view would be nice
Where's the glasses and ice?
Where's the towels and mommy?

Umbilical ready for birth
Thumb in the mouth for security
Cord is secure according to Forbes
Don't want to bounce off the walls 
Not exactly a Wall Street journey
It's baby's first flight out

Dance To Love - POTD - A Visual Art Poem Tribute

 POTD 23rd June 2019

Maria Williams 
Presents

Dance to Love

A tribute to my Dad, the late - Wilfred Forbes

She danced with wild abandon
she danced without a care
With sun kissed skin, her arms flung wide
Wild flowers everywhere

I chanced upon this secret glade
while walking early morn
A sacred aura surrounded it
a jewel in the dawn

A type of place where angels dwell
A place of Hopes and Dreams
A magic place of lush green plants 
And sparkling bubbling streams

I drew back lest she saw me, 
I dared not break the spell
Wild petals swirled around her
and to the ground they fell

Like homage to a Goddess
 that she must surely be
For Gods to but gaze on
 not mortals such as me

She twirled around so fast
I could barely see her feet 
And even though I stood afar 
I knew she gave off heat 

When her tempo slowed right down
 the air became quite chill 
The Elements were but her slaves 
she ordered them at will 
 
I could have watched forever
 so mesmerized was I
What would I give to dance with you?
 I murmured with a sigh

To dance with wild abandon
 with this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud
 to watch us Dance To Love

by Maria Williams


This tribute is an enactment of a vision as told to us by our late Dad, which he maintained he witnessed as a young man.
He was an extraordinary orchestral musician and teacher to 
some world greats.
He was accomplished in no less than 18 instruments, his favorites being the lead violin and xylophone (played with 8 hammers).

Thank you for listening and watching this video.

Copyright © June 2019 Maria Williams

Video arrangement, production, direction 
and compilation: 
Ron Williams

Video editing, sound mixing, graphics:
Jayne Hartanto


If you like my video please share
and subscribe on You Tube

 POTD 23rd June 2019
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Caving Disaster at Mossdale Caverns

Ten adventurers went caving in Yorkshire Dales, England in 1967.
It was a gorgeous June day, so they were in terrific spirits.
Four of them decided not to continue a few hours later, unsure why.
The remaining six were all young healthy men.

Morag Forbes, who had discontinued the adventure, returned to the site.
Mossdale Caverns was underwater so she knew the six were in trouble.
Shocked for her friends, she ran to get help.
Many volunteers began digging a ditch, to circumvent water.

The six inside had been climbing and crawling through the cavern,
When a rush of water came in through all directions due to flooding.
They were caught by surprise in the labyrinth.
Sadly, they were buried inside the cave.
Form: Narrative

Dialect Tickle Matt Arial Hiz Im - 2nd Sentence

I gotta n itch) Lenin, where alien archeologists 
from outer limits of the twilight zone unearthed 
(com) bust stubble rubble yes likeness of Guy 
Richie Rich Noir, whose couture, the best skid 
row wardrobe.

He sported longish wavy (fluffy when washed 
once every fort McHenry night), which character
wrist ticks evoked Chaplinesque down on his 
luck Dickensian doddering dude, who cast an 

immediate vagabond er dishabille, he happened 
to be plenti none the poorer and ranked near 
top Facebook listing of Forbes Plenty Of Fish 
list, and whose trivial pursuit with flickr ring 
idea to GoLong. 

As a poet by fashioning his adversity into discord
ant clumps of clichés, facsimiles, idiomatic limply 
mixed metaphors in a per verse manner reflecting a 
discombobulated egghead delivered an ova night 
fashionable fame, though syrup prize zing lee met 
with profound success, and bore fruit of the loom

(one of his countless “FAKE” offspring’s begotten 
unbeknownst to him iz this schlepper) constitutes 
this blimey dorky and fluky guy, whose weakness 
when communicating about extemporaneously usually 
leaves the reader like totally tubularly confused like 
ha cool and totally tubularly groovy man.

A Broken Canvas (Shards of The Soul, #1)

They say I have the perfect family.
That I have no reason to cry.
The onlookers envy me, stupidly,
Believing that pathetic lie.

My father is in Forbes Under 50,
My mum's on the cover of Vogue.
People think they've a flawless story.
If only they checked under the log...

Dad had always been very busy, 
Even when I was really young.
Well, he's a drunkard, always tipsy,
With another family out in Hong Kong.

Mum had always been the belle,
No matter where she went.
I guess her love was hard to spell,
And into her arms, I was sent.

My older brother Aiden's an *******,
Rebellious 'cause he's got money to throw.
Left hearts shattered while he was all snowed,
But got away because of the dough.

Rosaline "Bianca" was an absolute brat,
The older sister who'd never heard no.
Married a don who was sniffed out by a rat,
Now she's raising 2 kids as a widow.

From the outside it looks fine,
But my family's breaking apart.
Bianca seeks funds for the little minds,
Aiden actions, a thieving art.

Dad found out I'm not his own,
He wants to put me up for adoption!
Mum met her Hong Kong clone,
I guess her life wasn't an option.

Everything looks so easy from afar,
Sometimes I wish I could pretend,
To be the onlookers, unaware of my scars...
But I'm stuck in a loveless dead end.
Form: Narrative

Food Glorious Food Second Helping

First and foremost on the agenda,
would be to locate an affordable,
casual and favorable eatery
tubby agreeable to our taste
indubitable choice without
(any formal dress code),
nor further haste.

Strait away to the great weigh
(or if vegetarian – whey)
station of delectable food
where the exquisite, expertise, and exotic

high steak king a claim on Michelin Guide,
Gayot Guide/Gault Millau, American
Automobile Association, Forbes
Travel Guide reputation good.

Testimony to legendary praise
explaining why patrons travel
for countless days
transforming him/her
into steady state,

where he/she shuffles along
in a dishabille quotidian famished daze
far and wide culinary craze
out of this world wide web, the wispy Lyft
wafts trace steamy filament up braise
our noses,

whereat heads nod affirmation i.e. ayes. 
Even before making a glad entrance 
(into Restaurant) complete
a host of fresh, enticing,

and delicious aromas serve as a treat.
Delicate, foreign, hefty indescribable
ole factory stimulants delight
infiltrating thru swinging kitchen doors
holding us smell bound,
though thin filaments invisibly light.

The Union,:Supportwidows Supportwidowers

From far away past where silent orbs
Danced to rhythms of unknown forces forging
Newer niches in cloud then soil then rock,
Smouldering, sizzling silently as time tic toc
Ebbed away, watching life on some lifeless rock surging,
To this day when we dance to the rhythm of Forbes,
The moon and sun in divine love urging
Have danced about the earth: light source upon a rock,
Bringing life to earth when the sullen clock
Calls out the grim owl, vile wolf, and sturdy sturgeon
Through the silent night nobody else disturbs,
Locked in eternal enthralment, watching the dark dungeon
Earth would be but for the sun- or moonlight it absorbs.
Moonlight from sunlight like new groom and virgin
Locked in an embrace older than Eden’s first baulk,
But sealed forever to work on this blue rock;
Bringing light to life on earth at dawn then dusk, merging
Efforts: sun casts its beams on daytime suburbs
But when the earth turns as if to shun its scourging,
That age old mission bound to fail as dusk struck
Finds new life in the passive glitter on that battered rock,
The partner playing its part, for so it was from the first forging.
From far away past, as far back as the silent space orbs,
The sun and moon in sublime love urging.
Have danced about and cast shadows out of this rock
And so it should be, for when one’s gone and you lose the rock
Foundation of the union, then is there but darkness and dirge in
The picture, and the survivor is just a lifeless rock listening for hope in the orbs.
 
(c)Nyonglema

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