Long Mews Poems
Long Mews Poems. Below are the most popular long Mews by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mews poems by poem length and keyword.
Was he passing a baton my way that Friday, his last dawn, last day
in flesh that felt? The poet in me thinks that’s so, for barely had I
gained the door of Carol’s home (addressed my chair) when Bingsley made his pres-
ence known. I’d been warned not to hope for much, but taking stock, nosed agent,
the extended hand I’d offered him and got ears rubbed! ‘Guys’ struck a deal!
An animal that’s loved gives love that doesn’t scheme, anticipate meal.
Bingsley met approach and then averted gaze from family, turned back
(sprawled out on floor) as if to say, “I know it’s bad, but please don’t worry.
It’s just life!” as we discussed the vet’s planned visit we had scheduled. Cat
respect was soul intention as, in Carol’s lap - time’s arrow (1) hit ground!
Like a prince, whole life, he reigned - so free! No cat mews for democracy.
You want to rub their ears. Most game! Attention’s gone – cat’s off! Should they cry?
Ring-tailed, two-tone mottled cat, distinguished ‘lad,’ one ‘stone’ (2) plus some, dark fez-
crowned head, white body, splashed burnt-orange (tail and back), not blank (some parchment
God has trashed). A cat, dyed whole in can, needs something, a spark! Truth is such!
Though Bingsley liked ‘world seen through glass,’ in Carol’s home was warmth one could touch!
‘Freedom cats enjoy’ is what man envies most (when prejudice lacks track).
A cat skates by as if immune. ‘Truth Is,’ it is! Cat dreams are blurry,
not that focused - opportune. What feels good’s fine! (Are we OK with that?)
Though fools on a hill watching sun’s arc grok that their world spins round and round. (3)
For my dear friend Carol Clarke
Brian Johnston
24th of September in 2022
Poet’s Notes:
A color-coded poem where red syllables are accented as in ‘Beary Tales’ and blue and green coded syllables are softer. Each line has seventeen syllables with the poem’s strict meter of “/---" repeating exactly in both of its two stanzas.
(1) Time’s Arrow – Time flows only in one direction, like an arrow!
(2) One “Stone” – British measure of weight (about 14 pounds)!
(3) “The fool on the hill…” A paraphrase of the famous Beatle’s song!
Joyous Day At The Train Station
A most absurd thing happened while I made my way
to meet my morning train one sunny, summer day.
While walking on the path I saw the engineer
I see most every day when traveling, but near
him was a box of sorts all covered with a sheet.
He quickly called to me and said, "please come to meet
this stray, a golden-orange tabby cat I caught
along the tracks. A little irritable and fraught
but genial, and he emits the sweetest mews.
His fur is smooth and excellent; bright eyes diffuse
green glows of iris; he's a beauty with no home."
I bent and peered inside, he looked so all alone,
but kindly met my eyes with such a generous
meow and then moved over close to where I was.
Not minding one iota when I picked him up,
he fit so sweetly in my arms which I did cup
and did appreciate my holding him so near.
He tucked his head beneath my chin, and it was clear
in order to make him my own, there was a kink...
a costly act...skip work today. Then, in a wink,
I called my boss, and 'knock on wood', he said okay.
An unplanned meeting with my new-found pet this day
gave me a special joy, and with a hug sincere,
"an admirable kindness," said the engineer.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Make A Poem
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 07/12/2016
Couplet Form using Iambic Hexameter: 12 syllables and 6 feet per line
21 Required Words to Include in Poem:
Absurd, appreciate, admirable, cat, caught, costly, emits,
engineer, excellent golden, generous, genial, iris, iota,
irritable, kindly, knock, kink, orange, over, order
My poem took about 3 hours to
compose between two writing sessions:
evening of July 2 and morning of July 3.
My Sullivano photographed bad
He was a simian ghost so sad
He was dispirited
Now he posed for an ad
" Uncle Sully goes to nuptial bed"
Meenie stands erect in the mews
This morning she has heard a news
Sully has gone to hell
To collect a bombshell
Safe for a ghost? she has to muse
My pet ghost Sullivan was quite beyond the pale
He smoked my tobacco pipe and sipped my ale
He danced before my wife
Who was a squid in real life
She Kicked his butt and he started chasing her tail
Sully kissed Meenie on the spur of the moment
She was nursing her ass a cute boil to foment
Love really ached
The cute boil was baked
Meenie screeched like a ***** Sully made no comment
Cubism or impressionism
Wife Laura looked through her prism
She saw the open sea
Made her eternal plea
God give me back my squidism
Sullivan/Sully/ Sullivano= my pet ghost
Meenie= my female tabby cat
Laura= my wife a squid
My sweet sojourn has sung the hum
of song in wind....
For all the forest sings, beauteous ring
most melodious on the wings
of 'poor' creatures, feathered beings;
thy speckled chatter to shade
the dappled moss-bank,
(so) silt on the fringes of bubbling brook,
Always glory to the pledges of earth,
with little nest-homes on the dimples of life....
how full the fields of melody-manna,
the gossamer fattened worm, in early morn,
grubs abound for fledgling mouths;
To feed the future with tender sound,
quick cries, chirp-warble proud;
the robin clucks and red wing blackbird
singer atop the boughs
(prima-donna of sky)
warble-wind chimes ----
and shooting 'pews!" (what kind news!)
and often: 'mews!'
The clouds shall lift and sun will come
and fly to warmer climes;
children upon the bright winds,
as feathered Lords wide with diadem hymns,
Perched on the cottage banks,
the hills at thy back sing with new-earthy hues;
the rainbow has found a home one mount to each,
how gold glitters in the folds of lilting noon.....
the lilies upon the land sway,
The day is windswept from a lofty angel breath,
to tether new-life ripe with melodies met;
I have come in my druid garb,
and meshed in the weave of worlds
filled with God's smile;
prophet of the wood.....
(to fulfill as Wordsworth would)
I welcome all to my school....
in the easy cool, and sit in shade -----
observe the warmth of the world,
Christ has made me -----
a hope to smile with all of you;
My strength is only as long as you all
(shall sing with me!)
A herald announced the joyous news that a king was to visit my hometown!
Jerusalem was abuzz anticipating seeing a royal king wearing a regal crown!
I could visualize his majesty arriving on a prancing Arabian steed,
Or being borne upon a lavishly bespangled camel of exceptional breed!
I'd also heard that kings were borne in magnificent coaches gilt with gold,
And that with great pomp and blare of trumpets their procession was foretold!
This I wanted to see so I joined the milling throng and got a curbside seat!
Thousands of jubilant celebrants lined both sides of the city's dusty street!
"Here He comes!" shouted the mob! "Hosanna In the Highest!", they cried!
I strained my neck to see a real king in purple robes, the nation's pride!
The exultant crowd spread their cloaks and waved palm fronds along the mews,
Shouting, "Hosanna To Christ The King! The promised Messiah of Good News!"
This king, this King of Kings, rode a lowly donkey as His means of transportation!
I was told that a prophet Zecharia said He'd ride one for His triumphal celebration!
As He passed by I fell to my knees! He looked directly AT ME!, smiled and waved!
From that moment I became His disciple - straight paths for me He hath paved!
The man next to me said this man, this King, was born in a stable cave,
And that of His power to heal the ailing, blind and lame He freely gave!
Unlike earthly kings, He even promised eternal life for a sinner like me!
From this day forward I'll forever follow that good man from Galilee!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
A boy King was born in Bethlehem piquing the interest of three very wise guys.
They came from the East guided by a mysterious Star streaming from the skies!
They got a fix on the Star with their GPS and with AAA aid, planned their route,
To make the trek to that unlikely place to see what the hoopla was all about!
They mounted their royal camels named Chrysler, Lincoln and Cadillax.
(Lesser breeds named Chevy, Honda, Kia and VW toted MREs and packs!)
Reservations were made to stay at Oases Embassy Suites along the way,
Ensuring they provided swimming pools and golf courses on which to play!
They took along a generous supply of gold, frankincense and myrrh,
And platoons of Green Berets as guards should any funny stuff occur!
Their route took them o'er mount and vale and through dunes of shifting sand.
Sans their GPS and I-pods they would've become lost in that desolate land!
As they neared Bethlehem, they enquired, "Where is this King of the Jews?"
They were told, "Take a left on Palm Mews, then a right to Holy Mews!
There you'll find Him wrapped in swaddling cloths in a modest shed.
There was no room for Him at Holiday Inn so He was born there instead!"
They paid their respects and presented their gifts as they knelt in adoration.
Learning in a dream of Herod's plan, they high-tailed it East in a new direction!
Herod tried to find where the sweet Babe lay and his innocent life destroy,
But he lived to become King of Kings regardless of Herod's nefarious ploy!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
This is written in acknowledgement to the lovely sweet men and wonderful Poets on Poetry Soup who have supported and encouraged me since I first joined. PSST! I’m certain they all have a sweet-tooth.
Demetrius Trifiatis, Silent One, Paul Callus, Victor Buhagiar, Chris Green, Peter Duggan and Darren White, Robert Lindley and George V - A big thank you to all you fine Poets.
I wade to you through peppermint streams
While thoughts of sugar plums dance in my head
And when on land I mark my way
With bright colored jelly beans of green and red
There are lollipop signs with delicious swirls
Atop red and white posts like candy canes
With delectable names like Chocolate Fudge Mews
Caramel Road and Honey Dew Lanes
Sweet Avenues and Streets - a mouth-watering choice
This yellow brick road looks so like Honey comb
Oh did you tell me to turn right or left?
Might take a bit longer to get to your home!
These bushes of delicious coconut cream kisses
And lolly golly bliss bombs ever so blue
Might tarry a bit while I sample these sweet treats
Don’t mind if I do - You won’t mind if I do?
Luscious flowers on that tree just like fairy floss
Oh my! Now this I cannot resist
Just another mouthful for along the way
Then lunch at 12 - you did insist
The ginger bread house that’s just up ahead
With a sweet fence surround like licorice twists
Its then that I see you waving to me
With a large box of chocolates - Oh what bliss!!
By The Glasser Sound Orchestra - Sugar Sugar
POTD 15th June 2017
A herald announced the joyous news that a king was to visit my hometown!
Jerusalem was abuzz anticipating seeing a royal king wearing a regal crown!
I could visualize his majesty arriving on a prancing Arabian steed,
Or being borne upon a lavishly bespangled camel of exceptional breed!
I'd also heard that kings were borne in magnificent coaches gilt with gold,
And that with great pomp and blaring trumpets their procession was foretold!
This I wanted to see so I joined the milling throng and got a curbside seat.
Thousands of jubilant celebrants lined both sides of the city's dusty street!
"Here He comes!" shouted the crowd! "Hosanna In The Highest!" they cried!
I strained my neck hoping to see a king clad in purple robes, a nations pride!
The crowd spread their cloaks and waved palm fronds along the mews.
Shouting "Hosanna To Christ The King! The promised Messiah of Good News!"
This king wore a simple gown and rode a donkey for His transportation!
(A prophet, Zecharia, said He'd ride one for this triumphal celebration!)
As he passed I fell to my knees! He looked directly at ME, smiled and waved!
From that moment I became His disciple; straight paths for me He has paved!
The man next to me said, "This Man, this King, was born in a stable cave,
And that of His power to heal the ailing, blind and lame He freely gave!"
Unlike earthly kings He even promised eternal life for a sinner like me!
From this day forward I will forever follow that Good Man from Galilee!
Robert L. Hinshaw
You chance upon her
in the far reaches of the backyard
a place you never go
and there she trembles a tiny tiger in a blurred world
secreted in shadows below blackthorn shrubs
faint mews draw you closer
the power of her vulnerability
fills your veins with a pulse rising
brimming you with a nectar needed
like a dry stream bed restored by remedy rains
how helpless she is with eyes just opened
her eyes like skylights —translucent
and filled with new wild blue innocence
neglected yet beautiful
you see the phenomenon of her will to live —
her outsized feistiness
belying such a petite package of need
with teeny needle claws and protests the wisp of a hiss
...and you recall when you felt small and voiceless
born a feral
her mother likely lost to speed-wheels of a car
or snap-jaws of coyotes whose throats float howls
above black tree lines with autumn mist and moon
it will never be known for sure
and you wonder if she wonders
if the sweet-milk-purrs with soft belly fur
will ever return to snuggle her
she’s been cold and alone for far too long
so you gather her in the hug of your hands
curl your chest around her littleness
a shield formed against her loneness
—a long-ago-child abandoned a silent
child lost amid foster care noise is heard—
and you decide not to let Nature take its course
instead you sit with her swaddle her love her
nourish her with eye dropper milk—
embers linger in brick-warm-hearth
as you heal the orphan within
I am trying to sleep here; can someone let the world know?
Somewhere the pressure cooker whistles,
Rises in the night air, the smell of pulao rice.
The peddler selling eggs on his final tour,
The ringing of his cycle bell and paddle distinctly heard,
Elsewhere a cat mews, finding a safe spot to rest,
Or mayhap from hunger, I shall know never,
Dogs bark at a ragged man pacing fast,
His sole hanging slippers chatter away against tar,
As he glances at the canines from the corner of his eye.
A weak twig falls off the peepal tree nearby,
On the asbestos, creating a cracking noise,
Unendearing to his ears, the toddler wails,
A rickshaw shifts gears, as I shift sides
The sound of acceleration arrives at my eardrums,
A pillow atop my ears I rest,
An attempt feeble in decibel-arrest,
I am trying to sleep here; can someone let the world know?
I sense the creator is perhaps
The conduit in this conspiracy,
A gentle wind blows,
A pair of unshut windows rattle,
A metal latch dangling beats out-of-rhythm,
The jamun trees rustle, sounding
Like sand falling on tin-sheet,
The sound of roaring cheers
From a cricket match on TV otherwhere,
Triggering the flow of my curse on technology,
At the apartment gate,
A bunch of teens giggle away,
To a cunning joke or a murder mystery,
I wonder in utter dismay.
A medley of noises, of all kinds and creed,
Can someone let the world know, I am desperately trying to sleep.