Long Ford Poems
Long Ford Poems. Below are the most popular long Ford by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ford poems by poem length and keyword.
The pink honeycomb provided a mysterious grace,
Warrior with a sloth-purse unclosed wound.
Sargassum, barefoot hollow woman,
As if such an object could meet my canonic sound.
Soak my feet in cool moist sand,
And juncture to the purple sunset over the sea-bound.
Slowpoke chucklehead hump and heave its swarm,
Create a hole in the caliginous maroon of the unfound.
Until she's done and back to the ocean,
I set and bout her unreal breath with the ground.
This sea a ford motor stimulates altitudinous,
It evokes in me how all designs breathe and drown.
Ocean waves are noisy
like the rain dexterously pours down.
Written: October 10, 2022
Oh, peaceful sentinel of green,
With sweeping boughs and leafy screen!
Most trees provide a tranquil shade,
For picnickers in any glade
But you, O Willow, choose to smite,
And pummel passersby all night!
While common willows gently weep,
You cause the very bones to leap!
With one swift swish, you wreck a car,
And launch a Ford into a star.
You care not for a bird or bee,
An equal-opportunity brute tree.
You guard a dark and secret door,
Where furry friends pace on the floor.
A gentle poke upon your bark
Will freeze you silent in the dark,
A magic trick of wood and limb,
To keep your temper rather trim!
So hail the violent, twisted wood!
Misunderstood, yet understood.
The only tree, we must agree,
That strikes right back at botany!
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,
My name is Duane and welcome to my world.
I live with my family and friends in the hood;
I'm not Denzel, but I still look good.
I love classic cartoons, video games,
Cooking good food, music, and dames.
I'm a very nice guy, so please don't judge;
I'm more than hot chocolate--I'm a bowl of hot fudge.
Some people think that I'm a little nutty;
I'll tell you some jokes if you'll be my buddy.
I'll be there for you when things get rough;
Like New Kids on the Block, I'm hanging tough.
Underneath my skin, I also have a heart:
Be careful with it or I'll fall apart.
Now I may not have a mansion, a yacht, or a Ford,
But I know that I'm nothing without the Lord.
It's like a salad without the dressing;
I'm totally grateful for all of His blessings.
I hope that we can get along
And pray that our friendship will always stay strong.
Before I end my poem and go,
There's one more thing that you should know.
We all have one life to live, okay?
Put a smile on your face and your troubles will go away.
I was sittin' on the porch today reminiscin' about this and that,
And my hometown came to mind where I grew up as a feckless brat!
Life was lived at a slower pace it seemed, back in that place and time.
We didn't smoke grass but stealin' watermelons was a common crime!
The senior prom was held in the school gym and didn't cost a bunch.
There was no McDonalds so you had to eat at Marty's Diner for lunch.
Imagine! You danced cheek-to-cheek to a romantic Miller refrain,
And there were no computers - you actually had to use your brain!
The girls in your class were OK, but you preferred gals in that other town!
You raced about town in your Ford and with the cops became quite renown!
Guys kept shotguns in their jalopies to go rabbit huntin' right after school.
You took pleasure in datin' your pal's ex-girl friend, thinkin' you were so cool!
You could usually find who you were lookin' for at the dairy bar or pool hall.
You pushed a reel-type lawn mower when you'd rather be playin' basketball.
Everyone gathered downtown on Saturday nights for a movie or just to hang out.
Boys started drivin' their dad's John Deere tractor at age ten or thereabout.
If you walked somewhere, people would stop to see if you needed a ride.
Should you be the last kid chosen for a game, that really hurt your pride!
Boys wore 'butch' haircuts and girls sported ponytails and saddle shoes.
When I recall those carefree days I get a touch of the melancholy blues!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
O, idle love that flows where meters clash,
Where sense and vigor do not well align;
For thou the bowl of sense do rudely smash,
For I, the quest for harmony divine.
Think not these matters well enough ignored,
That coursing love shall float us to the shore;
For current-crossing whirls one cannot ford,
The broken ship of love a thing of lore.
And still, there is the sunlight of thy strength,
That doth ignite the world with crooked rays;
So great thy power that knows too short a length,
I fear my sense is lost as I amaze.
And if but once thy rhyme was not the worst,
I know my heart with love should surely burst.
Deserted we lie, banished to a shoe box; discarded metal
scraping metal every spring as our ignored box gets shelved
in a different room of the house; forsaken and further away
from real life. We demand equal time with your mobile phone
games, your Netflix programs, and your facebook videos!
We are your neglected Hot Wheels cars. Pick us up and
let's play a while... bright colors, mag wheels, cool decals,
no need to charge batteries or download an app, just four
wheels and a hood that opens and closes. Vintage VW's,
Oldsmobiles, Dodge muscle cars, Indy 500 speedsters,
futuristic dream cars rejected by car companies (but don't
we still look cool after all these years?) Let's go for a cruise
down the Main Street of your living room table or race down
the autobahn of your hallway or explore the Amazon jungle
out in your backyard (just remember not to track any mud
into the house!) Find those forgotten bright orange tracks
you jettisoned in the attic and go invite your neighbors over
for a "race of the century", followed by a glass of cold milk.
Draw some streets on butcher paper and pretend to be the
mayor of a small town, populated by Indy Eagles, Silhouettes,
Red Barons, Custom Firebirds, Paddy Wagons, Classic '36
Ford Coupes (with rumble seat), Chevy Camaros, Roadsters,
Lotus Turbines, Deoras (with surfboards), Custom Eldorados,
and you.
Hot Wheels (TM) is a trademark of Mattel Inc.
April 5 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on 2Kings 5-8
Key Verse –2Kings 5:1 Now Naaman, captain of the host of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master, and honourable, because by him the LORD had given deliverance unto Syria: he was also a mighty man in valour, but he was a leper.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY MIGHTY VALIANT DELIVERER
Lord God, You are my mighty valiant Deliverer, indeed my Captain
Thank You for cleansing me with Your sanctification so certain
Let me recover from sin-leprosy and its fatal stain
Against captivity of pride that detains me along selfishness-terrain.
Lord God, You are my mighty valiant Deliverer, indeed my Source of blessing
Thank You for propelling toward Your presence of worshipful praising
Let me practice genuine sacrificing
Against curses of standard-refusing.
Lord God, You are my mighty valiant Deliverer, indeed my Counsellor
Thank You for communing with me in Your fellowship’s love-color
Let me listen to Your warning rebuking spirituality’s squalor
Against criticisms I should beware of with valor.
Lord God, You are my mighty valiant Deliverer, indeed my eye Vision
Thank You for keeping me inside Your will’s jubilation
Let me answer Your call toward service-direction
Against challenges besieging ministry-function.
Lord God, You are my mighty valiant Deliverer, indeed my hiding place
Thank You for guarding me as I appreciate Your divine delays
Let me stay in Your tent of compassion along Your mercy’s brace
Against clamor of fleshly desires midst heavenly race.
Lord God, You are my mighty valiant Deliverer, indeed my Almighty Lord
Thank You for enclosing me in Your peace, devoid of any discord
Let me trust You as I arise and flee to Your grace-ford
Against cares on famine crisis along provision-hoard.
Lord God, You are my mighty valiant Deliverer, indeed my Restorer greatly
Thank You for defending me with Your healing victoriously
Let me walk along righteousness-path through Your light brightly
Against corruption causing afflictions gruesomely.
April 5, 2023
Schools are closed, there is no mail
And stores hold special sales.
To honor our first president,
That’s what this day entails.
Though technically, our 16th prez
Is celebrated, too.
To make a Monday holiday,
That’s what they chose to do.
The 40-something other men
Who served the USA
As presidents were not awarded
Their own special day.
So sorry Adams, Jefferson,
James Madison, Monroe,
John Quincy Adams, Jackson
And Van Buren – all are no.
Poor Harrison and Tyler,
Polk and Taylor, Pierce and Grant,
Fillmore, Johnson and Buchanan,
Hayes and Garfield – no, you can’t.
Arthur, Cleveland and McKinley,
Harrison and Teddy R.,
Taft and Wilson, Harding, Coolidge,
Hoover, also FDR…
Truman, Eisenhower, JFK,
LBJ and Nixon, Ford,
Carter, Reagan, both the Bushes
And Bill Clinton – not on board.
Last, no day off for Obama.
As to he who’s right now serving,
I can’t think of anyone who might
Be any less deserving.
+ + + + + +
+ + + + +
+ Rusty Ford watches +
The highway of yesterday
Under star swept skies
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(8==8)
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'Bite Size Poem no7'
Private O'Toole was only eighteen when he marched off to war.
He glanced back to see his tearful Mother standing in the door.
Across the way he heard the mournful wail of the midnight train,
Waiting to hasten him away from his Hoosier home adding to his pain!
He was deep in thought as the train slowly glided from the station,
Recalling that his Grandpa and Dad had fought in wars of liberation!
He felt a twinge of pride, yet he would miss the love and warmth of home,
Tinkering with his '37 Ford and roaming the fields with his dog, Jerome!
He leaned over the ship's rail watching San Francisco's lights slowly wane.
Like countless heroes before him, he wondered if he'd ever see them again.
The sergeant told him he was taking a cruise to Korea to stem the Red Tide,
And to just settle back, to always wear his dog tags and enjoy the ride!
Private O'Toole was a combat infantryman and was taught to kill.
His unit fought courageously on Korea's infamous Pork Chop Hill.
Artillery pounded them day and night and he fell with an anguished cry!
His remains were never found - they were taken by death's furtive scythe.
His dear old Mother opened the Western Union telegram with dread.
"We regret to inform you that your son is missing in action!" it read.
A Gold Star Flag was displayed by the grieving Mother in her windowpane,
Reminding all of the precious gift she gave the nation in a war so insane!
Placed No. 4 in Susan Burch's "Missing" Contest - March 2012