Long Four o Poems

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


Premium Member Musing Over Afternoon Tea

Whatever happened
To afternoon tea
Served around four o-clock
It used to be a daily ceremony

Out came a pretty cloth
From an old sideboard drawer
To put on a small table
Used many times before

On to this table
Doylies and napkins placed
Precisely and carefully
There was no need to race

Then came the china
A person's very best
Teapot and cosy
And an antique spoon rest

Fairy cubes of sugar
Along with bowl and tongs
Wireless playing softly
To the now old-fashioned songs

Now to the best part, the spread
Oh! the spread
Everything home-made
Especially the bread

Assorted sandwiches, sometimes ham
Mostly it was scones with cream and jam
Nothing elaborate just wholesome fare
Loving-kindness sprinkled there

Not a Macdonalds to be seen long ago
And preservatives were not so prevalent
So, most grew their own vegetables
And had gardens with fruit trees

Used old-fashioned methods
To nurture these
They grew organic without realising
Healthy, rewarding and very enterprising
Form: Rhyme


Funk Organism

funk organism
duck bread quacking
alan rickman beatboxing
dial up modem (beep cshhh whirr)

funk arbitrator
duck pond curator
swamp navigating for a 
beefy alligator (chomp)

deploy the boredom override
noise of eight-o-eight motorized
hans grueber mimicks three hundred baud line

heavy accent four-o-fouring up the skies
download duck bread, baked all night
organism fiending for a yeasty delight (funk)

alligator chompsky
interested in anarchy
says grammar is arbitrary
can't find a blank slate
no tabula rasa

a.i. duck synergy
neural synchronicity
quacking down the phone line
music serendipity

chompsky downloads the grammar
duck uploads the drama
universal syntax found
in the quacking sound

transformational generative
funk imperative
deep structure surface level
bitrate deranged like the devil

rickman voice compressed to eight bit
sound deposit sounds like profit 
flapping the vibe quacking beauty
a.i. duck just doing its duty
modem screech becomes a symphony
organic digital epiphany

funk organism final form
duck bread warm
modem connects to the swarm
chompsky says grammar’s universal
duck says the funk still needs dispersal
alligator chomps the wires
funk organism never tires
(never tires, never tires)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Lost In Time

Memories all seem like just yesterday
 As time brings you another birthday
 Where does time go, you want to know
 You look around it's the big four O

 The seconds are passing, the minutes move on
 Night slips away to a brand new dawn
 Where does time go, you want to know
 You look around, and you've turned five O!

 Each year that passes, the decades that chime
 Moves life forward in the passage of time
 Your yesteryears have gone, your tomorrows will go
 Where has time gone, you want to know

 You then realize you're on a roll
 Time keeps on moving and taking its toll
 Where does time go, you want to know
 It seemed like just yesterday you had a youthful glow

 Your vision gets blurry, your movement gets slow
 Where has time gone, you wish you did know
 But you keep writing in verse and in rhyme
 As another birthday is lost in,  time....

 6-8-2020
 Time Poetry Contest
 Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

Where Have All the Flowers Gone

Where Have All The Flowers Gone

Yes Yes Yes, Spring is here
Lillies, Hummingbirds, Bees are near

Time to remember the old and the new
Days pass by too fast for me and you

The lillies my mother -in -law grew so pretty
Now grow in my yard, for eternity

My grand-daughters smell and pick the flowers
The flowers renew just like the rain showers

The hummingbirds love my "Four O Clocks"
Yearly they come and find their docks

Stories, Smells, and Memories are made
Just like the life lessons, they last for decades

The Flowers haven't gone too far
Their here today, tomorrow just like the stars**


Written by:  Debra M. Falgout
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Marching Band

Almost four-o-clock in the afternoon
and not a single tambourine in sight

you should have jumped over the moon
hours ago, until

secret alien creatures on the surface
said the autopsy was inconclusive

which explains for me why 

icicles drip from your heart, as the sun
warms the memory of your embrace, like

moonflowers, gently unfolding at night
reveal the mysteries of love 

the bandleader, wearing a feathered pompadour
signals a final formation

somewhere in time
your tune marches into the distance

                             marches

                                           .......into the distance


01/02/11


Premium Member BELLS

In solitude with eyes
closed, a bell flashes with a
little girl chuckling, chasing it.
In stillness, silence, the bell starts
tolling and the girl intently stares at it,
eyes beaming with glee and a radiant smile
expressing delight. I opened my eyes, shook my
head, thought of the childlike innocence, the display
of honesty, freedom, enthusiasm and suddenly remembered
my own childhood always excited hearing the church bells tolling
for they meant fun, cheers, good times. Hearing the bell at six o’ clock
in the evening for worship or Angelus prayer at our altar, meant having dinner
with my  favorite dish or dessert for dinner was served after our prayers. Hearing
the bells after the morning Easter Sunday procession meant fun in the beach
for everybody went there for fun and lunch to celebrate the Resurrection.  
Hearing the bells after the four o’ clock morning masses during the
Christmas season, from December sixteen through
twenty four meant eating delicious
rice cakes at the church
kiosk.
Form: Concrete

Premium Member Ty Cobb Baseball's Past

OL'E TY COBB OF YESTER YEAR, 
WAS A GENIUS IN SPIKES, OR SO I HEAR. 

HE RAN THE BASES WITH A BURST OF SPEED. 
LIKE ADRENALINE JUNKY IN TIME OF NEED. 

STOLE SECOND BASE WITH HIS FOOT HELD HIGH. 
A SERIOUS THREAT TO SPIKE ONES EYE.

LIT UP THE CHARTS, WITH ALL HIS STATS. 
TRIPLE CROWN WINNER AND THATS A FACT.  

NINETEEN-ELEVEN (1911), COBB SET THE PACE.
WITH A FOUR-TWENTY(.420) AVERAGE, HE STOLE EIGHTY-THREE (83) BASE. 

LED THE LEAGUE IN TRIPLES FOUR (4)TIMES. 
HOMERUN KING NINETEEN-O-NINE (1909).

CHECK HIS STATS, HE LED THEM ALL. 
THAT TY COBB COULD PLAY BASEBALL.

THIRTEEN THOUSAND-0- SEVEN-EIGHT(13,078). 
NUMBER OF APPEARANCES MADE AT THE PLATE.

DON'T FORGET THE BASE ON BALL. 
TWELVE-FORTY-NINE (1,249)AND THAT'S NOT ALL. 

FOURTY-ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-SIX (4,186)HITS. 
THE RESULTS OF THE WAY HE SWUNG THAT STICK. 

BATTING CHAMP ELEVEN (11) DIFFERENT TIMES. 
WON NINETEEN TWELEVE (1912)WITH A FOUR-O-NINE (409). 

LED EIGHT TIMES, IN TOTAL WITH HITS. 
LED STOLEN BASES WITH A TOTAL OF SIX. 

EIGHT-NINETY-TWO (892)TOTAL STOLEN BASES. 
IMAGINE THE LOOK ON THOSE CATCHERS FACES. 

TWENTY-TWO-HUNDRED FORTY-SIX RUNS. 
AFTER TWENTY-FOUR SEASONS, HIS CAREER WAS DONE. 

HE ONLY STRUCK OUT SIX-EIGHTY(680) TIMES. 
OVER TWENTY-FOUR SEASONS, THAT BLOWS MY MIND. 

HALL OF FAMER, THATS A FACT. 
WITH HIS NINETEEN-THIRTY-SIX HALL OF FAME PLAQUE. 

GEORGIA PEACH IS DEAD AND DONE. 
JULY SEVENTEEN  SIXTY-ONE. A 

A HUNDRED YEARS HAVE COME AND GONE, 
THAT TY COBB LEGEND, STILL LIVES ON.
Form: Epic

Grandmother's Wish

The humidity of July makes sweat drip,
the unbearable heat frustrates everyone,
they stay cool and avoid the scorching sun.

The fire hydrants are open and kids 
love the cold water splashing on their bodies;
grandmother sits in the shade of the ember tree
and wipes her wrinkled forehead and nags...
her wish might be realized as stormy clouds arrive.

" My roses are dying, and the grass
is turning yellow!" she complains...
" If it only rained steady for an hour! " 
is her wish and it that might be realized.

Arounf four o' clock, a whirlwind wind
blows off her straw hat, grandma realises
a storm is coming soon and warning
her grandchildren, " Get out of the water! "

The playful kids hesitate to leave but obeying
they go inside, jim shouted," It's getting awfully dark! "
a loud thunder shakes the entire house, kids 
get closr to grandma fearing the fury of the storm.


Written on 9/2/2017

Premium Member Springtime Villanelle

Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
I wake up, hearing chirps of birds at four O’ clock;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!

The earth and the heavens celebrate springtime-joy, 
Timely changes in weather never my glee block;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!

Newborn baby animals race around in cloy,
In ponds around, bullfrogs in chorus gaily croak;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!

Breeze, as though touch me not, feels me and fades in coy,
Within feelings, like salsa, to xylophones, rock;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!

Seed drowsing, spring up and shoot up fresh green savoy,
Migratory birds to their homelands fly in flock;
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though, a little boy...!

Sunshine! Shower! Wedding of foxes! Dogs convoy!
Ducks and geese and swans and swamps display their catwalk;
Rays of golden sun, at orange dawn, I enjoy...!
At fifties! Yet, I feel, as though a little boy...!


15 April 2022
Springtime Villanelle Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet

Colloquialism Fun

Up here in Canada we have our own words
Everywhere does, some think ours are absurd
Between toques, hosers and rhyming currency
Like loonies and toonies, we do speak uniquely
But narrow it down to one province specific
Our Saskatchewan tongue is fairly prolific
We drive on the blacktop to get to the grid
To get to the cabin you went to as a kid
Past the RM’s to grab a two four o’ Pil
Put on my bunnyhug to ward off a chill
Wearing thongs in the summer to the river and back
But the ones on our feet, not the ones up our crack
Kitty-corner from the LB is the Rider store
For watermelon helmets, jerseys and more
Our die-hard fans, they all bleed green
Filling the stands, not a bush league team
Daylight savings? Not on our clocks or phones
For anyone in Saskabush or Pile’o’Bones
Or Elbow, Eyebrow, Climax and Oxbow
Moosejaw, Moosamin and Findlater also
And if you were in P.A. for any time spent
You’d know poor deadly is a compliment
Swimming at Pike used to give you the itch
But it’s all better now so jump in, in your gitch
Even if you’re in the city you know everyone
Probably from the small town that their cousin is from
Someone always chuckles when they say Speedy Creek
We like eating dainties, drinking Vico and Beep
Land of the living skies on or license plates
With good prairie storm clouds, the view’s kinda great
Take a left by the elevator and a right at the barn
Keep going until you’re 20 clicks past the farm
See the dog with one ear up and one ear down
And those are all the directions to get to that town
Full of colloquialisms you may not know well
If you're not from the easy to draw, hard to spell ;)
Form: Couplet

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