Long Hold a candle Poems
Long Hold a candle Poems. Below are the most popular long Hold a candle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hold a candle poems by poem length and keyword.
Sweet 16, Sealed in Wax
Nothing compares, can't hold a candle,
To our togetherness in love,
Hand in hand we share our "One-dle",
As a ship in harbor, we nestle in our cove!
Nothing's like sweet sixteen,
Enamored , married & matched to Barbara,
"Aishes Chayil" humble yet royal queen,
She has "tzniusly" survived Chaim's parabola!
16 annuals as one, traditionally one gifts wax,
Not diamonds nor strings of pearls,
Our companion hood Bananagrams max,
Together, our joy unfurls!
Also known as Blooma Yehudis,
"Blossom of Thankfulness" is her label,
Such crocus lotus presence is greater than Buddha's,
Barbara's loyal! Her love sturdy as a cable!
Sweet 16 flies by like an arrow,
Bezrat Hashem, we'll be together for many more,
This verse is composed in Chaim's marrow,
There's affection aplenty yet in store!
Barbara's put up with O.C.D. plus Ataxia,
How? Chaim in gratitude, quietly thunders & wonders,
Worse than raining "Cats & Dogs", worse than "Hailing Taxis",
Barbara patiently endures Chaim's blatant blunders!
I seek it here, seek it there
I cannot find this L word anywhere
L is the start of many words
Some of which are never heard
When going to kindy or at school
Is it because L isn't cool
Like Lancelot and Lalawithika
(I don't think that names a sticker)
Lalawithika, what a handle
It does not hold a candle
To other names like Milton
Milton, who lived at the Hilton
With his parents and brother, Mel
Milton's first name began with L
Perhaps L. Milton is too shy
To let us into his secret why
He does not use this letter, so
We may never know
Why Milton will not tell
Milt's reply:
LOL, Shirley. I'm glad I inspired you to write a poem. Okay, so I've never been called by my first name, even in childhood. My first name was the name of a rich old uncle who died and left me nothing.....what were my parents thinking? I've always been called "Milt" or "Hank" (in the military). Please feel free to call me "Milt" and resign yourself to never knowing what the L stands for. LOL
My reply:
So pleased the poem made you smile, Milt...Give my regards to your brother Mel. Thank goodness L will always remain unknown to me now. LOL...
I wrote this in May last year.
Wind, your double essence is well-known.
Whispered summer breezes you exhale;
Then suddenly you turn. You surge and wail,
Expelling rage, you bluster or you moan.
Your brute relentless nature then is shown
For you become a cyclone, Hound of Hell,
Or show yourself a monsoon, squall, or gale.
Unquelled, a devil’s wrath with dust is sown.
As you intone, we’re stricken by your power.
Whipping wind, who thrashes us below,
You’re merciless until that final hour
Your vehemence ceases. Gust, I hate you so.
You scour Earth for those who next must cower.
Two-faced tempest, most indeed you BLOW!
For the NETTED by WORDS: HER SILVERED, TENDER WEBPoetry Contest
I used the theme found in "Wheeze of a Wind" which had been entered
by Nette in another of Cyndi MacMillan's contests:
Timeless Yet Contemporary, A Sonnet Thang
Note to Nette: My sonnet cannot hold a candle to yours. I think your contemporary one was better than my traditional one; however, I hope you can feel my anger about wind in it!! I just love how you did your modern sonnet for Cyndi!! BTW, I MISS you. Where ARE you anyway???
Isn't she a sight?
Her inner nature has began to take flight.
No person on Earth will ever hold a candle
to the beauty of her inner wisdom.
Years of lessons to sift through
before she would see herself in that same view.
She wanted to give up.
She tried to tap out.
God just kept telling her
there was a purpose for the pain
and everything would not likely sound sane.
That pain she lived and the love she lost
was all paid with the highest cost.
She was determined to show the world of truth
Just how they had managed to continue the growth.
If you got to see the reality of the person she is within,
then know that mind of hers is always going to win.
She cried and begged for the pain to certainly end,
yet there she was,
the rock and hard place
and the pin would do her in.
She was nowhere near perfect
but her soul was full of a fire.
God would always re-stoke her
and the blaze would be higher.
No man can oppose the truth of her survival.
How else did she live
in the faces of her rivals?
Yarns Of A Seafaress
Hemingway's famous "Old Man and the Sea"
Simply couldn't hold a candle to me
I caught Ahab's great white whale
Did some surfing on his tail
Made him jump through hoops 'fore I set him free
In Scotland I gave Nessie a big scare
As with my huge net, the beast I did snare
I held on as Nessie tugged
Then set her free as I shrugged
To tell the truth, Nessie hadn't a prayer
And now I've set my sights on the Kraken
Oh yes, I'm more than a fishing bumpkin
And so for Norway I sail
To prove women aren't frail
This giant squid is simply a munchkin
This wonderful poem epitomizes Carolyn's love for everything about the sea.
She has so creatively and entertainly regaled us with her delightful writes based on
her own personal sea adventures that have become and will remain classics.
I can picture Carolyn standing on the prow of a boat, her hair streaming in the wind,
as it charges full steam ahead as she seeks further swashbuckling challenges beyond
the horizon. She has been a supporter and encourager to me not only in poetic matters but personal matters as well. I pray that her well of verse will never run dry!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Marmoset directs traffic better than monkeys or sloths.
He stands in the highway and walks his feet off.
We have hired other species. but they do not hold a candle.
To Marmoset who can do it at every single damned angle.
He is demanding a raise, sixteen more meals a week.
For he has plenty of mouths to feed, and his offspring squeak.
It behooves us to give them to him, and I will tell you why.
If he trains all his children, we have a replacement if he doth die.
The way he stands in the middle of the highway each day.
Is the absolute craziest mess, and I doubt that marmosets pray.
So let's cough up those extra meals, while he is still alive
Before he demands a ridiculous amount like thirty or forty five.
O Greta, dear Greta of Huskey Mountain Road,
If I loved you more, my heart would explode.
It has been a blessing to know you this year,
To watch you grow bigger and ever more dear.
I can’t hold a candle to love that is true,
A love that would die for both me and for you.
The universe expands; it never contracts;
That’s God making room for the love he enacts,
And all the small children whom He calls His own,
He calls them by name, before they have grown.
For all else is rubbish, yes, all else debris,
Compared to the knowledge that Christ’s calling me.
And so, my dear Greta, I fervently pray
The gift of salvation is coming your way.
----------
(a birthday card inscription on the occasion of Greta’s 2nd birthday - found in a file on the computer - she just turned 3...)
A rose as it grows has no cute little nose
Has no voice that can drive a man wild
Has no eyes to ensnare any man who looks there
Has no cheeks that might flush if he smiled
No saunter, no wiggle, no fun little giggle
No sharp and intelligent mind
No power to make any timid man wriggle
No humour, no shapely behind ;-)
No way to say yes to a white wedding dress
No way to agree to be mine
No way can a rose hold a candle to you
Though a rose can be rather divine
So a rose can coerce many men into verse
For a rose has its own beauty too
Yet a rose that you chose for your bouquet or hair
Shall take mere second billing to you
My leaves never droop and my flowers stand high
I bloom through the year as the seasons pass by
I witness the daffodils stand proud and tall
I see warmer weather put paid to them all
The alliums follow, the marigolds too
Then plants that will flower the whole summer through
Impressive by some standards, you might agree
But none of these plants hold a candle to me
The roses come close as they bloom into fall
And still here I stand as I scrutinise all
I watch as the wind brings down apples and pears
I won’t drop my leaves but I see them drop theirs
For I was put here by a man with a spade
Because it gets hot and there isn’t much shade
And all year I brighten this spot where I’m placed
I’m plastic - and there’s no accounting for taste
I wonder is there anything, I would not sacrifice for love
First think of the many things, that when push comes to shove
Things I could not live without, too important to my life
Things I could not part with, not even for my wife
What about my fishing boat, in livery of black
Or my favourite 4X4, that gets me there and back
Then of course there are, the mates that I hold dear
The ones that I spend spare time with, and drinking lots of beer
Then there are my parents, and siblings one, two, three
I mention here the major things, where my heart should be
But none can hold a candle, to the one I owe my life
Until I die, I will try, to be exclusive to my Wife