Long Hobbs Poems
Long Hobbs Poems. Below are the most popular long Hobbs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hobbs poems by poem length and keyword.
I am no martyr, no ghost, nor wizard great
They laid rocks all upon me, and again I say
I will not plead, more weight, more weight
I was a farmer, in the spring of Salem late
My wife is to be hanged the following day
I am no martyr, no ghost, nor wizard great
Oh Martha I’ve sinned, though not what they state
There shall be no confession, so here I will lay
I will not plead, more weight, more weight
I’ve afflicted no person to meet this gruesome fate
Accused by a witch they say changed her way
I am no martyr, no ghost, nor wizard great
Three days pass, my conviction won't abate
Stone by stone, my hope for reason gone astray
I will not plead, more weight, more weight
Crushed to dust, before they’ll clean my slate
Oh Miss. Hobbs, for your betrayal you will pay
I am no martyr, no ghost, nor wizard great
I will never plead. More weight, more weight.
Reluctantly, I'm ascending stairs. . .
Sensations of a dreadful cold
Permeate my trembling skin.
Through the window the moonlight glares.
My footsteps falter, but I'm growing bold,
And my climb begins again.
Darkness grips me with its wicked claws.
Something lies concealed.
I hear my heart beating frantically;
A dark foreboding gives me pause.
Consumed by it, my spirit chills;
I must unveil what hides from me. . . .
* My daughter,Angela Hobbs, who is writing a novel based
loosely on her first marriage, had me collaborate with her
on this poem that is the introduction to her novel named
"Confidentially Yours" and which is done in form of letters
written to a fictionalized friend. Angela dabbled in poetry
in high school and I am thrilled to see her sprinkling poems
into her novel. Praying it will be able to be published one day.
I still need to get started on MINE!! BTW: both stanzas are
ours. It was her idea and I helped a lot with the phrasings.)
For PD's: COLLABORATE WITH YOUR MATE~A FRIEND~ or ~FAMILY MEMBER...
not soup member Poetry Contest
Once upon a time
In a land far away
A Baby was born
On a bright winter’s day
He was a happy baby
His laughter quite the treat
He was perfect from his head
To the bottom of his feet
He was born a Prince
So they wanted a regal name
The Queen called on her subjects
“Please come join in our games.”
“The winner will choose
our young Prince’s name.
To be spoken throughout the land
to bring the Prince fame.”
They brought their lances
Their armour and swords
In their search for Glory
and to win big awards
But the greatest prize
to select the Baby’s name
The winner so honoured
would gain great acclaim
They fought upon horses
In matches on the street
All manners of combat
Many foes to defeat
At the end of the week
One winner was proclaimed
The public all cheered him
For the Prince would be named
The winner was a man
Who, had not a name
He’d lived all his life
carrying that shame
So he thought for many hours
What name might be best
He searched all manner of books
So the Prince would be blessed
Alexander or Richard
Maybe Demetrius or Hobbs
Perhaps Matthew or Vincent
Or something simple like Bob
After hours of research
His choice was revealed
Written on a Silver Scroll
The name was unsealed
Queen Harleen was ecstatic
Dressed in a gown of gold
The Baby Prince in her arms
She did affectionately hold
King Matthew took the Prince
Introduced him to the crowd
“His name is Benjamin
Of him we’re all proud.”
Dedicated to our son Matthew, our daughter in-law Harleen and of course the star of the Tall Tale, our new Grandson Benjamin.
Oh, lidded kettle boil me water fast
I cannot live without your heated blast
Your spout is small but perfect for its use
And, as your lid is hinged. it can’t get lost
An electric kettle made by Russell Hobbs
A teapot with a spout and lid with knob
Are what the English need in times of storm
If crisis comes, we need tea hot, not warm
I don’t object to diverse kettle brands.
We had a coal fire once with kettle stand.
Its metal black from soot an burned by coke
We made our neighbours tea which seemed to smoke.
Ah ,kettle , instrument of civil life
We cannot boil our water on a knife.