Long Lad Poems
Long Lad Poems. Below are the most popular long Lad by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lad poems by poem length and keyword.
Here comes a good lad
with his gentle and pure heart
who loves to eat a cotton candy
with no color but only pure white.
When he attempted to take a bite
His candy suddenly flew up into the sky
Amazingly, it transformed into cumulus clouds
The lad suddenly became an angel
So he flew and followed it up so high.
The angel and clouds are so white
They’re both trying to make the world so bright
So with our hearts and minds
Purity and cleanliness must reign in our lives.
Oct. 15,2012. 9:30 PM
Note:
((This is not for the contest)). I wrote this short poem at the hotel during the camp for the 3 kids/boys who stayed with me in my room and fidgeted a lot . It had somehow calmed them down especially the most restless one, Term. I will change the title later because it's a short story.
A barefoot lad, in blue overalls, laying in a meadow
of green growing clover appearing to slumber,
His green Irish hat lies over his face under
the shadow of a willow.
A pot of fantasy Irish gold sits by his shoulder.
In whisper snore, and relationship
with nature’s warmth fellowship
And wondering thoughts of plunder
A poetic vision in the figure of an Irish rover,
A high boisterous fun with mischief of sin
feeling the senses of lilt rhythm within,
music, song, scenery, and good weather
He steals a look at the stars carrying
in the day and a benediction it finds.
The harmony of being together, a meeting of the minds,
an instinct that is stronger than his upbringing.
What came, that which is unseen on our island home before
For a flavor of a rainbow and a mystical Leprechaun and blame
the thrill to the eyes. And plunder his gold and hope he won't reclaim
Triumph on the lore of his essence of identity and not blarney Irish folklore
8/27/2016
Five Rhyming Stanza's - 5 only - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
abba rhyme scheme
Sammy, the good lad
does enjoy the Summer days
He helps his parents in household chores
obeying* them with smile always.
Sammy, the good lad
is rejoicing in the Lord
He joins the annual Summer camp
to have fun, and read God’s Word.
Sammy learns to pray with faith
to the Saviour up above
That in Summer vacation
he can share more gifts with love…
O Sammy, the good lad
is so kind and cheerful
Teaching little boys and girls to sing
with Bible verses wonderful.
*Ephesians 6:1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right.
December 30, 2023
'Twas the night before Christmas quite a long time ago
I was nestled snugly in bed with my brother Joe
The stockings were hung neatly on our footboard rails
While we dreamt visions of Barbie’s Dollhouse and Motor Maniac trails
Mom and Dad to make it our special day
Sat with our gifts, wrapping papers, toolbox and a tray
All over the carpet, they were scattered about
It was such a mess, there wasn’t a doubt.
“Now, hammer it, twist it, blot it right here!
Slide on the seat, and staple the chair!
Handle it with care, it’s a costly brand”
“Oh! Honey”, said, Dad “You just glued my hand.”
Alas! The toys were assembled and gift-wrapped with coloured strings
Now lay stacked under the glittering Christmas tree for both siblings
Dad said, “It’s going to be our greatest Christmas to date
Just wait to see the joys of surprise on their faces I create.”
He dressed up as Santa with a matching red cloak, cap and trousers
A stuffed belly, a white beard to disguise his visage and manners
“Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!” he exclaimed stepping on a Christmas bauble
He tripped over and fell on the floor with a loud thud after a wobble
His cap fell off his head and his beard hung dishevelled
He lay there on the floor all unnerved and puzzled
The act came to a sad end and woke up the little lad
Lil Joe sprang up from bed and exclaimed loudly, “Hey! that's Dad.”
so i asked the lad
he was at work with his mother
she manages a laundromat
where one may only need machines
but there is a service of clean and fold
for us single elderly gentlemen
what is your favorite candy bar
snickers he replied
and what flower is your favorite
hmmm.... i like roses
and when is your birthday
another answer fulfilled
now said i of those questions
what are your mother's answers
to such questions
he paused, soon lost in the brain
before i let his wandering within go on
i told him, well young man
let me impart something of value here
if you ever meet the woman
you dream of a life with forever
never fail to know these
it is how a woman knows
you truly love her
and always remember in life
it is the little things
that adds up to the greatest
leaving Lufkin, Texas i like to think
i made a small difference in the life
of a young man watching his mother
fold and prepare my clothes
but more so the lesson mom heard
her smile as i left
OKC 9/22
B athed in the soft glow of morning's gossamer light
E ngrossed, as my eyes behold the most beautiful sight
A sleep in his crib, I gaze down at my first grandchild.
U nder Your protection, God. ~ I prayed, then I smiled.
T ender maternal thoughts I hold of this infant baby boy.
I nnocent eyes are looking at me. Oh, what feeling of joy!
F ace of a cherub, sweet angel, though you're not divine,
U ntil my heart no longer beats, you will live on in mine.
L ittle lad, because of you, the word, "love," I redefine.
* * * * * *
December 28th, 2015
Beautiful Acrostic Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Ignorance doesn’t ask questions,
thinks it’s weak to be confused
reliance on interpretations
doesn’t second guess the clues
arrogance shows what it knows
communicates itself with vigour
as if surrounded by those slow
to demonstrate their brain is bigger
the ignorance that lives in bliss
the arrogance to know what is
the brazen need to be the best
undiagnosed mental complex
to never admit the error you made
diverting attention onto another
critical of how others behave
claiming all they cause is bother
call them a hinderance
but one you will help
and with great significance
for nothing your self
you go from the victim treated unfair
to the selfless hero who puts himself there
talk of your friends who cause you despair
and then be the reason they get anywhere
as if you’re friends with the lowest creatures
such stupidity of the mentally weaker
and suddenly you appear such a great fella
way up high all above those in the cellar
but isn’t it so sad
to look good they look bad
when you are the perk
you better the sag
unaware that this blag
is of an insecure lad!
I was a mere lad of ten living on a prairie farm in Hoosier land,
Roaming the fields in my old straw hat, barefoot, carefree and tanned.
My faithful dog, Spooks, was always with me chasing rabbits,
(And rabbits were very plentiful due to their prolific habits!)
We had no inside facilities such as running water or a bath.
Our privy, as it was called, was located at the end of a winding path!
A Saturday night ritual was taking a sitz bath in a metal washing tub,
Then we'd pile in Dad's '35 Dodge and head for town after my scrub.
There was no TV in those days and my ears were glued to the radio,
Following the adventures of my heroes, filtered through static-filled audio!
I spent my meager allowance buying model planes and crafting the things.
Dozens hung from the ceiling of my room floating on gossamer wings.
I used a supple willow branch for a rod and a safety pin for a hook,
Angling for crawdads and wily crappie in the cool and flowing brook.
The Great Depression was ending way back then when I was ten.
Alas, World War Two began and things were never the same again.
On languid summer afternoons on a limb of the old oak tree I'd stretch,
And watch the scudding clouds as boyhood dreams I'd sketch.
Those were some of the things I did way back then when I was ten.
I'm four score and five now, but how I cherish memories of way back then!
Entry for Kelly Deschler's "Way Back When I Was Ten" Contest
When I was a lad about nine or ten
Summers were long school holidays great then
I played in our street we had so much fun
Me and my mates in the warm summer sun.
We felt really safe as we played in our street
We respected the bobby as he walked his beat
Cricket and football in the street we would play
My mate smashed a window we all ran away.
The girls played skipping with their hair in a bow
We would rather play fight , climb trees you know
We would play marbles and conkers make paper planes too
Me and my mates found plenty to do.
We even built a trolley using wheels from a pram
We chased all the girls they squeled as they ran
The days were so long much time to kill
I remember playing roly poly down that grassy hill.
We tried to build a raft with some oil drums tied to a big plank
We took it to the river guess what it sank
I had so much fun growing up as a lad
I was bit of a rascal but good times we all had.
Bobby is a slang word for a policeman
A trolley is like a gokart but made of wood
A conker grows on a Horse chestnut tree. You thread string through the conker stand facing
another person with one and take turns hitting each others conker until one breaks off the
string
Manchester Lad
by Robert (Bob) Moore
We used to live in Manchester, in England, the UK
till one day, our dad said, we’re going to move away
Australia’s where were going to, a land of sand and sun
with lots of jobs, and lots of space, a life there will be fun
I didn’t really want to go, at 18 my life was here
but dad had made his mind up, he made that very clear
it’s all or none he said to me, we go together, or we stay
so we agreed we all would go, and I’d return home one day
We caught a train to London, and as we crossed the Pennine Chain
little did I think, that I would not see them again
I’d hiked and camped all over them, since I was just a lad
Glossop, Hayfield, Kinder Scout, and all the fun we’d had
The train got to St Pancras, in the early morning light
time to have some breakfast, look around and see the sights
I had never been to London, this was my first trip,
we saw Nelsons Column, but that was about it
We had to go to Tilbury, a ship was waiting for us there
to take us half way round the world, to a land dad said was fair
it needed population, to help it build and grow
and people came from many lands to try and make it so
I never went back to Manchester, once I had settled here,
Australia became my home, but one thing was very clear
I was born and bred in Manchester, life was tough, but not so bad
and no matter where it is I live, at heart, I’m a Manchester Lad.
Bob Moore ©2022