Long Livery Poems
Long Livery Poems. Below are the most popular long Livery by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Livery poems by poem length and keyword.
A band of comrades rather strange I think you will agree
This oddball bunch together shared a commonality…
The panda didn’t pander to the niceties of style
He wore his usual coat which he had done for quite some while
The zebra was a Libra with an eye for what’s in fashion
She loved the skin she’s swaddled in and flaunted it with passion
The badger was a cadger but he didn’t want your suit
He’ll cadge your lunch but he’s content with being so hirsute
The puffin felt like nuffin with his massive beaky nose
But still he kept his chin up for he rather liked his clothes
The magpie wouldn’t lie although he was prepared to steal
His virtues might be fake but his apparel very real
The Penguin was depending on a chance to show his class
His haute couture was something that was absolute top brass
The skunk just stunk, not all the time, but when occasion rose
His looks were good but he was quite offensive to the nose
The orca wasn’t happy to be so far from the sea
Though he was quite a corker in his shiny livery…
So when they met the parrot they tried not to put him down
But one of them just had to say… “Did you come as a clown?”
Born in their meadows and
bread for the masses - to
culture exploited, a suture
‘livery of freedom’
he spun on the wheel ~ I
canvas my flag, and the future.
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Khadi means handspun and handwoven cloth. In 1918, Mahatma Gandhi started his movement for Khadi as relief programme for the masses living in India's villages.
Raw materials then were entirely exported out of the country by the colonists and re-imported as costly finished cloth, depriving the local population of work and profits on it.
Gandhi didn’t just revive India’s flagging Khadi industry, he made the humble hand-spun fabric the symbol of all things swadeshi (indigenous to the country). When he encouraged people across India to boycott foreign clothes, spin their own yarn and wear Khadi, he was encouraging them to rediscover their pride in their heritage while lending support to their rural brethren.
It is also the most sustainable and eco-friendly product whose production requires no electrical support or fossil fuel and generates no toxic waste.
This fabric keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer!
The Indian national flag is always made of Khadi - It is not just a fabric but a way of life.
www.thebetterindia.com/95608/khadi-history-india-gandhi-fabric-freedom-fashion/
Duchess in her finery
Duke in his chair
people wander round
looking without care
Taking airs and graces
talking with a plum
searching night for treason
drinking too much rum
Livery boy falls over
lady screams in fear
was that Queen Victoria
leaving out the rear ?
Abused and mistreated
maid’s hurry about their toil
cooks in the kitchen
covered in grease and oil
Cats lay in the wicker
dogs are in the bins
orphan child gets sicker
rags don’t warm a sin
Waste flows through streets
rarely washed or swept
whores on the corner
working off her debt
Bible was the only book
church ruled the land
sometimes a dangerous place
to play your last hand
Grandmother reigned in glory
Hanover rulers stand
Victoria’s wonder years
played to a brass band
Form:
Thomas Hobson (1544 –1631)
in 19th century late
a Cambridge ostler and postal carrier
set his priorities straight
he owned a livery stable
of 40 Hackney horses or more
plus boots bridles and whips
and put the horse the cart before
after the animal left the barn
by bolting fast the door
and as precautionary balm
the nag nearest the stable gate
the worn-out equine storm to calm
was the firm rule he did make
this one or none in the stall
was that which customers had to take
or do with no ride at all
but for the paying equestrians
either way they win or lose
as there was no choice but accept or reject
for any of them to choose
All round the ring of Kerry’s highways, people point and cry
It’s 4 o’clock on the very dot and Mick’s rig is passing by,
It has glistening sheens of yellow, with cinnabar spots in red
Rich lozenges of orange complete the livery, as this butterfly forges ahead!
She’s kissing those dew damp breezes, on a morn like an Irish dream
As the sun’s rays like golden spokes
Steal silently; through oaks of emerald green.
lighting up a meadow’s buttercups, that border a hillside stream.
She hauls her load of butter, fresh from the herds of ‘Kerry’s spreads’
To sweeten the taste of a million slices, of European bread!
She’s making good time this morning in passing the various towns,
By 9 am she makes Letterkenny, to lay her cargo down.
Mick checks his trusty wristwatch
He needs to be back in Clonakilty; to make a special call
For by, begosh and begorrah ‘tis Father’s Day ‘n all. and
His sweet Molly will be waiting there, by an ancient rock built wall!
So he spins the painted lady round, to take the south west route,
Tooting to folks he recognises; as along that road he shoots.
At 1 o’clock he’s made it back, and parks the painted lady up
He wanders up the dusty track; just a Dad in working gear
Straightening an aching back, now his destination’s near
He searches the milling kids all around, many colours their faces show
And then he picks out his Molly. as those raven curls she throws!
She runs to greet him at his call, raising her face to be kissed
And she had chosen a painted lady, sure.. He felt how he had been missed!
He swings Molly up on high and they head back to the farm
She showers him with sweet butterfly kisses
As rabbles of the creatures unravel, in clouds and colours of charm!
NB the Painted Lady is an Irish species of Butterfly
In a land that flows with milk and honey,
the wind moans with foolish silly punny.
The mountains countless caves blaze with blithe light;
trees of Ténéré quiver that tower in height.
The sound of trickling water, yield boasting
ground canvas color and peacocks strutting.
Dragons, Dragonflies, and dwarf Huffle-winks
old folklore, they could care less what one thinks.
Small, magical winged beings that breathe in
playfully flitter vanish in a blink.
Dragons roar with crackling fire of thunder
huge and fierce in all their mystic wonder,
fluoresce scales an in brilliant livery;
benevolence manner, bold chivalry.
Leap into the air, their leathery wings
stretching to catch the air above like kings.
Huffle-winks stand with shields and sharpen swords
and cocky grins, guards in the House of Lords.
In a land that milk and honey cascades
and heavens shine and summer never fades.
5/21/2018
Poetry Contest: Dragons, Dragonflies, and Huffle-winks
Sponsored By: Caren Krutsinger
Ned Shepworth lived in a small, frontier town,
that just three years before had been empty ground,
he tried to keep up with the latest style,
and worked as a clerk in the mercantile.
Now Ned was in love with fair Hattie McGwinn,
but she had already said no to him,
Ned was nothing special, that was the word,
didn’t carry a gun, a real coward.
And nothing to look at, the women said,
could barely afford a place to rest his head.
Hattie was a beauty, with her choice of men,
but pitied Ned and said that they could ‘be friends.’
Hattie had two suitors sniffing around,
Elton Call owned a ranch, outside of town,
Jay Myers own the town’s biggest motel,
with either of them a girl could do well.
But Hattie was like so much of her sex,
using her charms to keep the two men vexed,
until she could take the time to decide
which of the two men she would let inside.
When she saw Ned she would chat idly,
about the two men that she wished to see,
though Ned kept his cool, inside he did burn,
and in his head dark thoughts began to churn.
Then one day Ned came to Jay’s back office,
said,”Hattie sent me, told me to say this:
She made her decision, an she wants you,
but she fears finding out what Elton would do.
“But at four she’ll be at the livery,
wants you to take her to Stillwell to marry,
she thinks Elton will try to interfere,
that’s why she sent me to find you here.”
Jay got up quickly and began to prepare,
Ned took his leave and went right out of there
to a horse he had waiting, away he went,
rode to Elton’s ranch, his mount was half-spent.
Ran to the corral, where he nearly fell,
and to Elton this breathless story did tell:
“Hattie’s in trouble, Jay has kidnapped her!
He proposed marriage, she laughed at his words!
“So he locked her up behind his bedroom door,
said she’d be his wife, or she’d be his whore!
You cannot just let her suffer this fate,
please, you must help her, if it’s not too late!”
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
As time ticks away into twilight dusk
Sun in fathomless waters will plummet
The Earth will then wear an assassin’s mask
This in endless succession shall repeat
The grass in silken meadows will wither
Trees clad in green livery will go bare
Youth into infirmity will slither
Body, through years of rugged use will wear
Every beauteous form will lose its charm
All to death’s stygian vault shall return
Until then, lead life without any sham
A good name is all you can strive to earn
You are a dumb player in life’s pantomime
Act your part well until you're merged in Time
(10 syllables each in every line with a total of 140 syllables)
Placed First in the Contest
Sonnet's Salutation Poetry Contest
Sponsor- William Kekaula
It was now growing dark as the sun was going down
When a stranger rode into Soup Creek, a frontier town
No one could see his face, he was all dressed in black
An old boy was heard to say "I think he's come back".
He took his horse to the stable, then went to the boarding house
Before he went in looked across the street, to the town jailhouse
There was a familiar figure sat outside, in a rocking chair
Cradling a Winchester and the stranger, felt his cold stare.
He'd returned after all these years; he had something to prove
And just after a few days back in town, he would make his move
But Sheriff Koplin is no fool and he had planned up far ahead
And had formed a posse whilst the stranger slept in his bed.
Three fiesty girls from the saloon, Jan and Jenna, Tania too
And a Texas ranger called David who was just passing through
With gambler Milton who was deadly, with a colt forty five
And Tom the undertaker who looked more dead than alive.
It was the evening of the showdown; the stranger came out of the saloon
The sun was now setting but the tension had been building up since noon
From his holster he withdrew his pistol and then fired shots up into the air
The stranger was not one for living a peaceful life and he just didn't care.
Sheriff Koplin approached him and said "Hand over your gun"
And the stranger replied "Lighten up man, I'm just having fun"
The stranger was laughing now and looking down at his feet
The townsfolk were nervous and had disappeared off the street.
Then behind the stranger came a shout in a loud Texas drawl
It was Jenna disguised as an old woman, covered with a shawl
"You heard the sheriff " she shouted, "Put your gun on the ground"
The air was now thick with tension and you couldn't hear a sound.
Then from nowhere the rest of the posse appeared pistols in hand
They abhorred bullies and conflict and were prepared to make a stand
The stranger realised he couldn't win and threw his gun down
Walked to the livery stable to get his horse, and rode out of town.
The drama was now over but it could have gone either way
Sheriff Koplin and his posse restored peace, and had won the day
It was now days end in Soup Creek in that peaceful frontier town
All you could hear were chirping crickets as the sun was going down.
Written on 20th May 2022.
Autumn's sigh emotion thrown across the night.
Stars shiver in the laden cold with the moon's sight.
The court yard had the comfort and invisibility
As the elves, faeries, and minotaur physicality
As they dance in the inner labyrinth among
Countless others of their mythical young.
No mundane would give it a second look.
Yet, there is no such thing as a Golem in a nook.
Bella, beautiful with pale skin and blond hair,
Wide clear blue eyes and pointed ears love to share.
She liked the summer best for the world grew warm
And the dragons came. She wondered if the rain storm
Is what brought them. Her brother Carmel, joins in
The dance holding an olive branch while all the faeries spin.
Dragons menacing roar with crackling fire of thunder
Magical serpentine fierce in all their mystic wonder,
Fluoresce scales in brilliant metallic shine livery;
Benevolence manner, bold chivalry.
Leap into the air, with their outstretched leathery wings
Weaving between the clouds to catch the air above like kings.
Elves as stars in a distant realm, together
Under a blanket sky, whirling in shadows of purple heather.
12/25/2020
189 word count
Fantasy With Fictional Beings Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger