Long Married couple Poems
Long Married couple Poems. Below are the most popular long Married couple by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Married couple poems by poem length and keyword.
He is the darling of her heart;
A pathway shall not part;
Everlasting always tart;
Delilah’s “bright-fame”
Her treasured flame;
And we proclaim, all is well, all is well ;
Her companionship, her passion mate, her soul purpose
Duly married
There sweets at heart, truly sweet hearts
Aged but shall never stop
Her mate she (we) claims be healthy haled robust and sound;
And we proclaim, all is well, all is well ;
We seek, we see in the spirit well sound and wholesome
Full of vigor wellness this we professes
Asking God evermore now Dear Lord please bless
“Bright fame”
Beraht Hrod
Beraht Hrod
O’ Delilah be encourage
God has given you your extrovert
In wellness he is bless and not cursed
Dear, dear friends we wish upon you both longevity of life and love
O’ Delilah amorous delight meant for only him
Your spouse
Fret not your bright fame
Is blessed at naught He’s you companion, your passion your purpose
A holy covenant not mistaken
And we proclaim, all is well, all is well ;
You are well twain together we are (they are)
Woven in a God covenant
Husband and wife spiritual emotional physical union
Your covenant real and you’re not fooling;
God has and shall bless His union;
He is the darling of her heart, a pathway shall not part;
Everlasting always tart;
And we proclaim, all is well, all is well ;
Delilah’s “bright-fame”, her treasured flame
Her companionship, her passion mate, her soul purpose
Duly married
There sweets at heart
Truly sweet hearts
And we proclaim, all is well, all is well;
Aged but shall never stop
This be the Ole of Delilah and Robert Meyer
Be of good cheer young at heart
You are healed for (cause-Why-How)
God not finished with you yet
This is a dedicated jot, and we proclaim, all is well, all is well;
A poem for my friends married couple
Delilah and Robert Meyer
And we proclaim, all is well, all is well;
Blessed and Sweet old friends we proclaim in sickness and in health
We proclaim all is well, all is well ;
A Dedicated verse to my friends
Delilah and Robert Meyer
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
The best advice I ever received about growing old…I offer now to you:
It came from an old married couple…She had just turned 80…he was 82
You are going to love this couple… before I met them I was told
and that was true as their energy and their love was a wonder to behold.
They would drive across the country to see their children and grandchildren for they could think of nothing greater…
The young 80 year old did all the driving while the old man was the navigator.
She pictured herself a race car driver…for her…speed was all the rage…
“When I get on the highway,” she’d say, “I like to drive my age.”
She was proud of her driving accomplishments…how she was always early…never late…and she bragged how’d she’d gotten a speeding ticket in almost every state.
One day they stopped long enough for me to ask, “Hey, you two…what’s your secret…won’t you help me see…the mystery to all your energy…the key to your vitality?”
They smiled at one another and immediately I was caught by the way they gave me this advice by finishing each other’s thought.
“Life is precious.” He said. “We plan to enjoy it or as long as we can.”
We figure at our age.” She continued. “If we stop we might not get started again.”
Eventually, as Emily Dickinson wrote, (just one of her many gems)
‘Because they would not stop for death…it kindly stopped for them.’
But not until they blessed me with the advice I follow every time my two feet meet the road….
given to me by an older couple
long ago…
who in their many years together…
always loved and never slowed.
It was the Eve before Christmas, every tree covered in snow,
Bonnie was walking Plato her poodle, conscious to keep to the road,
As she nonchalantly walked, she thought of Derrick her Danish beau,
He was the one that she wished to be by her side as they grew old.
.
Imagine if he proposed tonight, she thought as she strolled,
He is the moon and the stars if she should become
Lost in the dark, and her warmth if she shivered when she was cold,
Her compass in life. Although she wore gloves her hands felt numb.
Bonnie quickened her pace back, her dad said in a low tone, a guest has arrived,
Her adrenaline pumped and her palpitations went into over-drive.
She rushed upstairs, straight into the arms of her love, Derrick she cried,
He sat her down on the bed, suddenly she was full of life.
Derrick presented Bonnie with an open box, her adrenaline went crazy again,
Will you marry me he asked, yes yes, you are the love of my life Derrick,
Bonnie rushed downstairs to tell her parents, and tried to somehow regain
Her composure. Congratulations were said and accepted; Bonnie’s joy was magnetic.
They went to a popular pub in the village, Bonnie flashing her ring,
She walked over to the juke box sensually, with poise, which accentuated
Her sensuous figure, and a tantalizing cleavage, her raven black shimmering
Hair, she swept off her face and seductively Derrick she beckoned.
The engaged to be married couple swayed to the music as if they were one,
Derrick looked at his watch. It’s late , so they left the pub somewhat tipsy,
Feather like snow fell on their faces sobering them up, tonight was fun,
They agreed and exhausted, fell into each other’s arms so delightfully.
Their heightened passionate and undulating love continued till dawn arrived
And so they awoke to a fairy-tale Christmas Morn, within soaked satin sheets,
Breakfasts aromas wafted upstairs, bacon, coffee, freshly baked bread, they grabbed
Their carefully selected gifts, and donned their gowns, there were even chocolate treats.
Wow exclaimed Derrick, Happy Christmas everyone
We are a married couple
Loving the married life.
We’ve had our share of kids,
And we share a wonderful life.
We are older than you think,
And younger than you feel.
Tabitha is such a great cook
I have never missed a meal.
Now that we’re both retired,
and we take care of family to.
We are really enjoying life,
with a few house chores to do.
I love my wonderful wife
for she is trouble enough,
she takes her time with me
because...
I don’t like it rough.
We live in a nice house
we have her own cars to.
Tabitha likes helps me
write poetry
When she has a mind too.
We write poetry
from our own point of view,
if you take your time
and add a bit of heart ,
you can write poetry to.
Most salient benefit
anorexia nervosa wrought
excerpt, qua gut tease
burg address er...
four decades and seven years ago
plus countless hours, days, weeks...
elapsed with nary morsel
passing between two lips
starving lovely bones
dedicated grueling proposition
suicide knows no equal,
where puny pubescent (me)
engaged with self
consuming civil war
testing whether that
psychologically afflicted lad
willingly conceived during
heated passionate lovemaking
'tween young married couple
copulated, created and begat
one scrawny son
flailing his spindly limbs
arm n ham heard skinny legs
still generates risible outbursts
analogous to firearms bursting
nearly met his demise
wit dem dim eyes of his,
though nursed courtesy mother
licensed practical medical practitioner
livingsocial severely undermined,
even presenting disunion
at this moment
peudo soldier of misfortune,
though quasi silver lining
stitched into corporeal being
nsync with coaxing
increased devotion to curry
lame literary accomplishments
until gratefully dead.
No meal taken until task
witnesses completed writing assignment
usually poetically kindled
flummery accomplished
hungry artist hyper aware
literary creativity bubbles forth
accentuated, buttressed pronounced
attempt crafting epistle,
endeavor to write heightened,
when sustenance withheld
body electric induces nattering nabob,
(yours truly) thwarts appetite
digestion process consumes energy
buzzfeeding grumbling beast
within mine belly
predictably, immediately, automatically
satiatiation consummated
to appease nagging wife
induces without fail mine glorious
eyes blink shut tight.
loud laughter echoes through the pitch black sky
the usually dark street seems to lighten up
as I walk in it with you like we're going home
to a place we own
we laugh and laugh until our stomachs hurt
echoing through the neighborhood
late at night until it dissipates with our breath
in my bedroom, we close the door
snuggling together like an old married couple
talking about the silliest moments of our life
and all random things there is until it bores
I saw it, at the top of your head
a bright orange hairpin
clinging onto your hair not wanting to fall
you left it on my table under the yellow lighted lamp
you washed your hair and let me dry it
combing it until you feel sleepy
leaving the hairpin on my table illuminated
by the dim light making it stand out best
out of all the things that sits on the table
days later you left to go home
it was there on my table
an orange hairpin
barely noticeable despite it's bright color
that hairpin reminded me of you
your laugh and your breath
your hair and your scent
of all the things we do and
on how we talk about tomorrow
as if the world is ending that night
how we laugh while we eat
how I make silly moves while we walk
that hairpin is you
a reminder that I once loved a person
a gentle remnant of your presence
I call it you
you who knew me so well
you who knows my everything.
you.
and I cry over it.
I cry over you.
I cry, over a hairpin
Invisible hands will thaw the frozen year
If only sun could do the same
For the silent pair who sit in stilted air...
The two, who ride the transit bus,
Going here and there....
Sadly,... who knows where?.....And sadder still, is do they care?
With a winter's chill between them, stripped and bare
She wears a cloak of tweed to keep her warm
He braves the cold hunched in a coat of brown
I see them there and wonder how it came to this
How silence breeds, while they have passed through years..
They board as two, a married couple, yes
But winter chills their very depth
Their eyes are vacant, nothing left
Of spring, of love, togetherness
When distance looms across the room
Where love once bloomed, but now is gone
Observed among a crowded bus
Or in the small café
No words are left to say?
No hands to grasp, no questions asked
No tender glance, don’t touch… don’t touch
I wonder how it came to be?
These two who vowed to always love
Do seasons come and leave such dust
When winter’s wind turns love to rust?
And winter’s breath chill hearts to stone
They live as one, yet stare alone
It isn’t hate, it isn’t love, it isn’t care, it isn’t much….
Just the icy, slippery grip of time .....and a deadly winter's touch
I wave vaguely toward a boat in the distance, but
can't think of what I would say if they invited me on board.
"That seems excessive kindness," I say, but a voice laughs in my head,
"Yeah, but they'll never do that!" In its vacuum stare, a seagull
encourages me to think past my confusing options. I laugh pretty hard and
move on to the empty boardwalk overlooking the choppy waters, picking someone's trash as part of my civic duty, thinking "life's better in this barren habitat" and then am glued to a kite spinning wildly in the sky attached to a windsurfer riding the waves, suddenly disappearing and then resurfacing, has trouble unhooking the kite, saying to myself, "that's a good kite he should keep it" and then watch it fly like a free bird before crashing into the ocean. I walk past the sign that reads, "Sally was here today" wondering if she was blonde or brunette. I whisper in my head, "this place must do well in the Summer." Today it's silent, like our interior souls crushed by the disease. "We'll come ahead on this one. What made you look for water snake in this environment?" My father would have encouraged me that I was right, he was always delusional, always carried a small umbrella even in hot Summer days as a precaution. "You need to learn to manage your affairs better," his voice rings in my head. He loved his car and wanted to drive it to his own funeral. I see an old grill gummed up with ashes, wondering how many beachgoers it had pleased and all the stories it had to tell. "There was once a married couple who ate their burgers raw." The boardwalk turns into rocky sand, waiting to torture my bare feet, a seagull is looking purposefully at my predicament, perhaps chuckling,
"these helpless creatures."
Lend me the swiftness of your wings, so I can ride above
the foamy waves and sit on a humpback whale that lies still in
recumbent grace, sniffing you out. I am your maid and it does not take long
to try its patience. I hope you spare me your wet witching. You would have saved a squad of dolphins from their daily doldrum if you were game and
moved in their playful company.
Inaccessible solitude, I venture to conclude at random.
TESTIMONY OF A TEEN COURTSHIP TURNED TO AN ADULT MARRIED COUPLE
You came into my life some years ago
We were teens mustn't lust but there it was;
But love and trust witness;
You held your own, said you'd be mine,
if I just attend church praise the Lord with you as a couple;
Was the first time we met;
Puppylove it wasn't;
I came to pick up my cousin from your job, you both work there;
I sat in front of you in a office chair, I just stared;
Yeah!! that's odd, being goo-goo eyed on your job;
Was the week of June 8th;
You were 18 I was 17
I said that's all you want, that's it then: AMEN;
I had low self-esteem though no one would love me;
I thought every girl want someone more handsome,worldly powerful;
I'm average looking, stained yellow teeth, short in stature bunion feet;
All I could promise you is faithful;
All I can do is try;
I'm not that strong, handsome muscular guy;
Just I faithful;
And two years later we were engaged;
A total of three years we got married;
I won't share my body with no other one;
Don't like pain and shots or diseases,yet more spiritually;
I want to live on and long;
Intercoarse NOT that good to burn in hell for eternity;
So let's do it right;
Wed in Holy Matrimony;
Yes, sew is good but it's great, greatest with God's standards;
All I could promise you is faithful;
All I can do is try;
I'm not that strong, handsome muscular guy;
Just I faithful;
Yes I AM a sinner, yet I'm saved by grace;
Please allow me to reverence this;
Just know that I am...
Believe in me for I am faithful;
10/6/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2018©
National Panic Wednesday March 9th, 2022 actually... every day
Founded by Tom and Ruth Roy
solely to acknowledge hardship
of A. R. Harris
and her husband M.S. Harris,
who cope poorly
(even courtesy medication)
with anxiety attacks, especially when
violated, probed, interrogated courtesy
Highland Manor inquisition,
which traumatizing event happened
on aforementioned date
included with poem title.
J. G. and P. F.
constitute management team
under jurisdiction of Quoss
(pronounced chhath tt) and Grade,
who espouse principle laissez faire
but whose exhibited heavy handedness
pertaining to the married couple
named in the third line of this poem.
Either one or the other gals
who attend these premises
here at the Schwenksville location
(I won't mention
the state as penile solitude)
alluded to a peculiarly nasty odor
emanating from unit B44,
our man/woman cave.
We received a twenty four hour deadline
to get into shipshape the disarray
messiness even Pigpen
would find abominable,
yet upon receiving both
oral and written admonition,
me and the missus
buckled down and kickstarted
frenzied whirlwind one bedroom
apartment cleaning spree
zoned out like zombies of Sugar Hill
when the clock struck bewitching hour,
more specifically that alluded time
synonymous with midnight.
No matter we felt dead tired
whereat neither option
to acquire additional time,
nor desist existed,
and yet nearly impossible mission
to continue, but appealing
to temptation of sandman
out of the question.
Deep sleep for the weary
appeared oh so heavenly,
on par with plate
of powder milk biscuits,
our mandate (analogous to pilgrims
adults and children -
forced to fight in crusades)
forbid cessation, thus to plod
and plow onward
despite overwhelming urge to plotz,
(not the slang definition)
found yours truly
blissfully in dreamland
when me noggin hit the pillow,
Not for a minute
could yours truly
sit down and take a breather,
despite severe lower
(rightside) back pain.
Said dull throbbing ache
diagnosed as tight muscles
by Doctor (physical therapist)
John R. Mishock,
he would not countenance
(approve, comply, honor...)
I popped one Ibuprofen.