Long Love family Poems
Long Love family Poems. Below are the most popular long Love family by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Love family poems by poem length and keyword.
So they think you are old and shouldn't live alone,
maybe you're too frail to be left on your own
Can't manage your own money or live in your own home,
apprehensive you give up and take up the tossed bone
So many years spent taking care of them,
it's your turn they'll tell you and move you right in
Deep inside you hope to turn back the time,
your life's work was them sure it will be just fine
Your full of anticipation life is going to be easier now
Soon feeling like a relic lifted up and knocked down
You have so many stories memories of days passed,
feel like every story told could soon be your last
They have no time to listen they heard it all before,
tell you they'll talk later as they rush through the door
Feeling like a burden wondering what to do,
no one seems to care about the trials you've been through
To them, you're just repeating things already heard,
but if they'd stop to listen your words are not absurd
Everyone keeps talking about the day you will die,
and who gets what & how your property will divide
Not wanting to wait they reach out with dirty hands,
to take what's in reach they can't wait for the end
You start to feel decrepit and feel your life's a sin,
its a bad situation that no one wins in the end
You find yourself weaker something isn't right,
don't talk to old friends feeling like a fright
Every day grows longer you can't wait for the night,
no one even gets it it's such a dismal plight
You sleep and sleep and sleep to escape reality,
your youth is long faded along with vitality
Closing your mind eye reaching for your partner's hand,
but alone in your bed, this was not the master plan
The dream realm is all you see through the haze,
you lift your eyes up & meet your lost love's gaze
But please don't go too soon to that alternate reality,
there are those that still need to hear the words you speak
Stop dwelling on real or perceived infirmities
or without warning, it will drain your remaining vitality
When you think of death or of the dying that they speak,
hold your head up high and breathe life into the scene
Change your attitude don't die it's not a dream
the younger generation you still need to lead
Hold onto your life and sow a precious seed,
life is worth living don't lose it in a dream
For those who love the Hallmark reels
with stories that give all the feels
You’ll notice that in every one
there is the same web to be spun
The small town girl who comes back home
her city slicker job to roam
Has led her back to find romance
to give someone a second chance
And then, that interrupted kiss
that makes us wait for wedded bliss
Precedes that stumble and near fall
fair maiden saved by one so tall
Of course, there shines our Christmas glee
to warm the hearts of all who see
The Holidays will save the day
when lovers seem to lose their way
The cookie sales and Santa’s wink
That magic that still tickles pink
And knowing that it all will mend
about five minutes till the end!
So safe, so sweet, that Hallmark thrill
When such a show is on the bill
So make ye fun, if that must be
But there’s no bigger fan than me
Fairy Princess dreamer alone
in the ring of stones
At the end of the Rainbow
Do not let it be the end of faith
Little one, you did not lose your gold,
it cannot be taken from you
It happened to you, but it was not about you
There are still Unicorns
They are just further out in the foggy mists
As those fall into life's great sleep,
I will be awake to watch over you,
Sister, to help you find them again
You will always be part of a Family,
even if you do not recognize us, yet
You see, selfishness blurs out others,
and it is easier on the eyes to look upon, anonymity,
instead of truth reflecting the guilt of unfaithful insanity
-
A jealous masochism fighting identity
in that sleep that has lost its dream
This adversity, perversity,
could never mean you are not loved,
these are a separate thing,
far removed from what is sealed away and kept from
the distorted hearts- that forgot how to sing,
to cherish of it's faithfulness keep
There is still love, Family- you being
Sibling of my Eternity, if you will have me,
for our Eternity it shall be
Written By: D. Collins 3/8/19
I wish you could have taken this ride with me.
By now, they'd be calling us both a rarity.
Who would've thunk it? Or, thought we'd survive?
Who would've given us a chance of still being alive?
Two strong, black men well into their late fifties.
I dread you're not here to take the ride with me.
When I took a left, you made a right.
God called you home to sit by His side.
Yet, I feel you standing to the right of me.
Keeping me calm. Putting me back on a leash.
If the world only knew what we have lost.
That breath of fresh air, right before the floss.
I sure wish you could have took that ride with me.
Don't worry little brother. I'm still Big-Brotherly.
If they party in Heaven, there's one thing I want to say...
Let God and every Angel know that it is your birthday.
Where were you so long ago?
All those eons before a tot.
In some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You were not.
On a shelf of surplus stock,
A soul dressed up in heavens frock.
Perhaps a spirit not yet wrought,
No. Not there. You were not.
Then began your book of life,
It’s made in volumes three.
The past, the present,
And the yet to be.
Will you write only pleasant,
As you pen volume present?
Avoiding matters to disavow,
Parting life’s waves by your prow.
Crashing the crest before the break,
Leaving burst bubbles in your wake.
What great act earns its worth,
And a lasting mark upon the earth?
Is that mark worth the grind,
Should your labor be realigned?
The train of life rolls on rails of time,
And travel stops at the end of the line.
When that ending word is writ,
The final one that you submit.
When there is no more yet-to-be,
You close the cover on volume three.
The tome is closed. Where do you go?
To the place you were taught?
To some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You are not.
Your Book of Life, a mere spark,
Bounded by bookends of eternal dark.
Where were you so long ago?
All those eons before a tot.
In some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You were not.
On a shelf of surplus stock,
A soul dressed up in heavenly frock.
Perhaps a spirit not yet wrought,
No. Not there. You were not.
Then began your book of life,
It’s made in volumes three.
The past, the present,
And the yet to be.
Will you write only pleasant,
As you pen volume present?
Avoiding matters to disavow,
Parting life’s waves by your prow.
Crashing the crest before the break,
Leaving burst bubbles in your wake.
What great act earns its worth,
And a lasting mark upon the earth?
Is that mark worth the grind,
Should your labor be realigned?
The train of life rolls on rails of time,
And travel stops at the end of the line.
When that ending word is writ,
The final one that you submit.
When there is no more yet-to-be,
You close the cover on volume three.
The tome is closed. Where do you go?
To the place you were taught?
To some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You are not.
Your Book of Life, a mere spark,
Bounded by bookends of eternal dark.
Water flows from the dam of life,
Not easy, but not all strife.
There is a point at which we die,
Lest we forget, not all goes awry.
Often, we denounce and scold,
As we pass from young to old.
Friends and family are to adore,
Before you or they are no more.
Love is like a pane of glass.
Held by two, it can endure.
If by one, too heavy a mass,
Alone not too sure.
Always in motion, never stable,
Never static, ever brittle.
Held a moment, barely able,
To withstand the noncommital.
Words you utter, tone of voice,
A grimace, smile, or rolling eye.
Words and deeds are your choice,
Be they honey or some lye.
Every thought or smile,
Frown or furrow can beguile,
And must pass first this test:
Is it really for the best?
If the pane glass should drop,
It will chip, crack or shatter.
Damage you cannot stop,
Lasting memory does matter.
Each cycle does grow short,
The glass ever more frail.
Until that one last retort,
You’ve had the final rail.
You get no second chance,
To name what really mattered.
Gone forever, that romance,
The pane of glass, has shattered.
Emergency over,
crisis resolved,
body mended in part.
The quiet time allows reflection,
a mirror held to my eyes to see
What is really important?
Career? Ego? Self?
Inventions of man,
all puffed up
but empty inside
The walls
come down
crushing the old
And allowing
The new to unfold
The new is actually
the old renewed
Love, family, friends,
relationships, compassion...
To care for others with golden rule
A new life unfolds
before these eyes,
new vision,
a fresh paradigm
to chart my fresh course for life
I've been blessed
with a chance
for new beginning,
laced with hope
and wonder anew.
TLR 7-31-17
It’s funny how a simple question…a group of words…when combined
can set off a flurry of activity within the recesses of your mind.
I was taste testing another batch of Deborah’s famous chocolate chip cookies
(Yes, my epicurean cookie skills are vast)
after giving her the thumbs up…she smiled, looked at me, and asked:
“I wonder how many of these cookies I’ve made for everyone over all these years?”
Which set my mind to wondering past cookies to all the moments we’ve shared..
all the laughter…all the tears.
How many moments did we have when everything in life seemed just right?
How many times have we hugged our children and grandchildren?
How many times have we kissed goodnight?
How many times have he held hands or looked into each other’s eyes?
How many times have we watched the sun set?
How many times have we seen her rise?
In all our travels…in all our walks…I had to wonder…how many miles?
How many loud and happy moments have we shared?
How many silent moments? How many smiles?
How many times have we said, ‘I love you’?…I can’t even guess at the amounts.
Suffice it to say…in a lifetime together…we long ago lost count.
I imagine what’s important in life…is that these moments…we create them!
We don’t need to keep track of every moment…there’s no need to calculate them.
There’s no need to keep a tally…
no need to discover the exact amount.
What’s important is knowing tomorrow…
if we’re blessed…
we’ll be adding to the count.
Back before the world knew of
Computers, cell phones and compact discs
There lived a little girl who loved grandma
In a way that could be said was fanatical
She followed grandma through her garden
Naming vegetables and flowers, listening
To the bird sing a beautiful sonnet
While her heart raced on with love so honest
Grandma became her greatest fan
Laughing at her antics with such pleasure
Her heart was filled with love unconditional
Love that erased all worry, fear or dread
With her grandma, the little girl felt
Like light reflected all around her heart
Inside her thoughts, wherever she went
And there was light to capture her warmth
As she learned more and more about her grandma
There came a moment in time when she realized
Grandma often lay on the couch, closing her eyes
But wasn’t always sleeping, only taking a hiatus
“Grandma, are you sleeping?’ the girl would ask
“No, I’m only resting my eyes, dear one,” she would say then
The little girl would watch her face as she rested
Wondering if she could hope to interrupt her hiatus
Soon, Grandma would rise from her afternoon rest
And give the girl a smile, a laugh and a caress
Whispering to her of all the love and joy she expressed
Through kindness, gentleness and that giving spirit
Back before the world knew of
Dreaded heartbreak, dying dreams and the sigh of death
This little girl found solace in her grandma’s arms
Where there were only smiles and laughter with no harm
Hiatus Poetry Contest, sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
January 27, 2021
He’s not sure exactly when it formed…can anyone ever be?
but they had a special bond…his grandmother and he.
She used to tell him he was her favorite grandson…that he was the most fun
even though, as they both knew, he was her only one.
And when his parents died…in an accident…unexpectedly
they were the only two people in the world…
his grandmother…and he.
“Try not to worry too much.” she said…as into his hand her hand slid.
“I promise I’ll take care of you.”…and that’s just what she did!
She became his mom and dad…and when all is said and done
he went from being her only grandson…to being her only son.
As age began to envelop her…one day to his surprise
she said, “Promise me you will be here the last time I close my eyes.”
“Of that you never have to worry.” he said as into her hand his hand slid.
“I promise I will be here.”…and that’s exactly what he did!
He was far away when he got the call…the doctor said she wouldn’t last
that she was asking for him…and could he get there…fast.
He drove as fast as he could…along the way…he cried
but he made it to the hospital in time…and he knelt by Grandma’s side.
“I knew you’d come she said to him.”…as a smile crossed her face
She raised up as he leaned down…and gently they embraced.
“We made a promise to each other.” he said, “when our two lives intertwined.”
“You kept your promise to me…and now I’m keeping mine. “
Grandma nodded then she whispered…”I love you son…goodbye.”
then she smiled, squeezed his hand and…for the last time…closed her eyes.
And a smile sneaked in through his tears that night…in bed…before he slept
as he marveled how two lives were made so beautiful by the two promises they kept.