Long Middle age Poems
Long Middle age Poems. Below are the most popular long Middle age by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Middle age poems by poem length and keyword.
Everything You Ever Loved Will Die Like It Was never There To Begin With. This is what was gifted to us at birth. That and we all get to die to someday. What the is this? Why? No one will remember me after six months. I need to be immortal.
Here's the poem.
My parents passed away ten years apart,
and both of them knew I was an alcoholic when they died.
I wish they could see me now—
happy, sober, accomplishing more in months
than I once could in years.
I’m grateful for the strength others lend me every day,
but still, a quiet sadness lingers.
A part of me will always feel I failed them.
Now, in middle age,
I finally have the chance to begin again.
I want to listen—really listen—
to make others feel seen,
to make them glad they took a moment
to share their day with me.
I want to love my brothers and sisters,
to make them feel safe and welcome
in my presence.
These are simple things,
ordinary moments of kindness and connection—
but they’re treasures I never knew
until I got sober.
Tell all the worlds about the treasures found
Renaissance trace spellbound in the ancient form,
Tender and haunting; an era of time curves around
Past the present to a future beset with tech charm.
Historical pages cling romantically to our eyes,
Each epoch defines a sparkling gem of surprise,
Their fluttered rebirth is like stars changing sizes
Release by time flown from the damp demise.
That dip their limbs to bow unto gloss modernity
Like the artist and sculpture, they paint a world.
Of aesthetic peculiarities and lofty discovery,
Longing to find a place soaring free in the soul.
A vault of citadels says much; then said no more
Deep within, ancient wonders rise from the ashes
Talented beauty weaves from centuries we adore,
The time and place asleep in a waste wilderness.
The plague of colors survives in medieval triumph,
England, a literary monument of architect literature.
Finds the noble heart to express cherished breath
Creating the etiquette claimed by French culture.
Such dept alone could not be paid by metamorphism
Humanism fading in a mist has its place in society,
Heightened with extreme lust and erotic mannerism,
Italy removes the conscious veil from bizarre reality.
Ceiling significant through music strings serenade,
Renaissance dazed; allusion lay dreaming half awake
The inquisition of fate went on pilgrimage made,
German sentence commute through the classical gate.
The Netherlands explore and navigate all the distances
Byzantine adherence goes beyond impregnable walls,
depict faces of the Tsars persist in the military hypothesis,
And labyrinths take refuge in Russian banqueting halls.
The richest measured proportion of distilled beverage,
Vodka values more than all the dull limited senses,
Spanish religion repository of the myths and rage
Set the path where new western experience commences.
Portugal selfie, the pinnacle piece that thirsts for commerce
Lisbon flourished paints and medicines with Flemish.
Poland concept and conflict gain border land dominance,
Spice trade rises high and makes indiscreet allusion flourish.
We travel far beyond renaissance to the greatest monument,
When the transition of culture from the middle age evolved
Mesmerized art is a rediscovery of an enduring cultural movement,
The monarch of the Roman Empire renaissance man inspired.
A friend you meet in middle age
Of course has his own history
Which possibly will stay imbued
With some degree of mystery.
We form our judgments from the facts
We have in our possession
And how a person looks and acts
Determines our impression.
But sometimes we may get a glimpse
Of someone’s early years
And discover that he once was not
The way he now appears.
For age and illness take their tolls
On all of us, and yet,
Within us still exists that self
New friends have never met.
A photo or a story somehow
Conjured from the past
Makes us realize that there’s so much more
Beneath the die we’ve cast.
Quote Written By Poet "In youth we can do all things. In middle age we can still dream. Seniors can only reminisce."
In middle age,
feeling grown up over the years.
A flower opening up to the world,
know where I am going.
Now standing firm and tall through many challenges,
I am enjoying what life has to give me now.
I can see this big world clearly,
I am ready to finish the run of life strong.
With each new day,
showing me how to be better.
A better wife, a mother and a friend,
letting peace show brightly.
Giving makes the world go around with joy to all,
it is fun to give away time and ideas.
I love writing for my readers,
giving them a smile or two as they read along.
Forever in youth, Last
But with time forever soon pass
One day you wake up without reason or rhyme
And realize your living on Borrowed Time
Days zoom by and night is for sleep
Suddenly it's important for promises to keep
Always right you can now be wrong
For those you love it's time to get along
Wishes and dreams are on a check list
Now you honestly try to give it your best
You go to places you vowed never to miss
Seeking ways for all to be Bless
Middle Age, "Old" you have become
But Life is just starting, your on the run
Experiencing things you long to savor
Enjoying the world with all its flavor
Repented and forgiving with love in your heart
No need for hate when you finally depart
Life is a personal experience you just have to live
When Borrowed Time is all you have left to give
The sharp suited man
With the Legal Degree
Looks back over years
To pass judgement on me.
While he was getting drunk
In student Uni bars
I was uniformed and fighting
Our country’s various wars.
The greatest impulse
Is the will to survive
To stay in one piece
To get out still alive
If you've not been there
You just can't understand
How fear and anger
Can get out of hand.
A split second’s action
In the heat of a fight
Is now being appraised
As being wrong or right.
Now we’ve both reached
Our late middle age,
Him on his thousands,
Me existing on minimum wage,
Plus the long service pension
They’ve been paying of late,
Not exactly bounteous millions
Reward for serving the state.
And he has his portfolio
Of cases, no win no fee,
And he is trying to make
A criminal of me.
In thanks for the security
For him and his ilk
That our actions earned,
Now he’s taken the Silk,
He puts our actions
Under the spotlights
As a campaigning lawyer in
The cause of Human rights.
I was a volunteer so I don’t
Expect or need his gratitude
Just maybe some compassion
To temper his attitude.
I scream in pain at the memory
Of things that I’ve done
While he waxes fat on
The fees that he’s won.
It’s a strange justice that
My efforts set him free
To harass and pursue
Combat veterans like me.
That sharp suited man
With the Legal Degree,
With the benefit of hindsight,
Passes judgement on me.
This is not about me, but the many Veterans who for years have lived under this threat. Nobody condones War Crimes, but we do ask for a level playing field and equality of treatment.
When evening red surrounds our dream
A varnished crown glosses the breeze;
To summon love's ascent, upstream
On river's bend as moist lips tease.
A varnished crown glosses the breeze
Here, stars wiggle in blazed delight;
On river's bend as moist lips tease
When embers of dusk flames the night.
Here, stars wiggle in blazed delight,
Through middle- age, we find pleasure
When embers of dusk flame the night--
As tide cradles this love, it's lure.
Through middle- age, we find pleasure
From gentle floats of a damp kiss
As tide cradles this love, it's lure--
While years ripple in fiery bliss.
Juli-Michelle's Contest
Rhyme Battle: Round 7 Written 6/17/2017
Home computers arrived out of the blue.
They had been travelling through mind-space
for many years,
Most of us older personages had not a clue.
They came with other free magical packages
these were called 'software' and 'games.'
We diligently spent many long hours
fooling abound with such electronic trickery.
When (somewhere just before middle-age),
I began to type incoherent and
semi-illiterate poetry onto a gray-blue screen
I knew that I was destined to be a genius,
but of course, I had underestimated
the power of the Internet
to both flatter and shatter
the innocence of all humankind.
Picturesque beauty - the sunrise, sunset
The rays - that hue - those shades of bronze
Beauteous - that yellowish tint or the rainbow
Way up high - after the rain! imagine that
Imagery of waterfalls - the beaches in the sands
Or the sparkles of the first fallen sparkling snow
Beauty walking the paths through the gardens of life
Sitting at docks or tossing rocks skipping in the pond
Picture the house well painted and well maintained
Imagine yourself, imagine that - no love by any chance
A drunk - lying in the ditch or on the treasured ground
The photo in your scrapbook to think about you're around
Imagine that midlfe - middle age crisis - look at you!
Imagine that! your companships - the bottles
Imagine your health - self love , self pride OH!
Feeling sorry for your own self, love your friends worldwide
We love you! Imagine that enough to tell you to detoxify
Imagine that earn a madallion - and clean up
Picturesque- the opportunity of the life you could live
Fancy that with each sunrise, wow! waking up
Look at you! You do drinketh from that cup
Beauteous be, beautiful day, carry a madallion today?
Wonder why?
In youth's frantic clutches
Addicted to vapid touches
Love children spawned in shaded hutches
Existing on euphoric highs, painless crutches
In middle age, lust morphed into longing
Spent body in static sphere now belonging
Neglected prodigy seeking shelter in availing arms
Licentious, pretentious friends fled in swarms
Sins of youth girdle my deserted gates
Promiscuous flings my esteem deflates
Rebellious children their fealty abrogate
Venal lovers rue my chaster estate
In deep morass, my withered soul equivocates
Bridging divide of self pity, butressing hope inflates
Then residual pain with due penance heart conflates
Seeking self forgiveness; from others proffering rebates
Healing balm of inner resolve soothes empty soul
To wayward children unconditional love tendered not in
part but whole
To fair weather friends only distant compassion will dole
Forthrightly, to bring uplifting, sharing friends into my
foal