Long Mrs Poems
Long Mrs Poems. Below are the most popular long Mrs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mrs poems by poem length and keyword.
I don’t think I shall quite forget the name Camilla Martin.
She’s the teacher of me grandson at the local kindergarten.
No question she’s a lovely lady; dedicated through and through,
but the lesson that she learnt this day is one that I learnt too.
It just happened on the day I drove young ‘Gaz’ to kindergarten,
there’s a special birthday happening - it’s his teacher Mrs. Martin.
I wondered why young Gazza had this present all wrapped up,
so after telling me the reason, he whispered “It’s a cup.”
It was a special morning for all the Mums and Dads were there.
I was the only Grandpa but young Gazza didn’t seem to care.
There’s a birthday cake with candles, lollies, hats and lemonade,
and the kids all brought a present … and I’m glad I overstayed …
To see the look upon the faces of the kids who held their gift,
as Mrs. Martin stood up at the front to give these kids a lift,
by waiting to receive each offer as presented one by one,
and she really liked the cup handed to her by me grandson.
And the other little children were quite interesting as well,
as they stepped up to the podium with a similar tale to tell,
when Mrs. Martin made predications to what the wrapping held,
for she knew the parents business thinking that their gift has gelled.
She’s spot on with Jenny Damon whose family own a florist store.
Mrs. Martin beamed out “Flowers,” and Jenny smiled, “For sure.”
When the local milk bar’s Billy Cann stepped up beaming bright,
Mrs. Martin said “This must be chocolate,” and Billy nods “That’s right.”
Mrs. Martin waited patiently for ‘Ginger’ Roberts from the hotel,
who stepped forward with his gift that she thought that she could tell,
because it appeared somewhat a shoebox that did have an ominous sign;
it appeared a bottle’s leaking and she gathered it was wine.
Mrs. Martin put her finger in the liquid but the taste to her is strange,
and for a joke she said to ‘Ginge’, “Is this not Penfolds Grange?”
‘Ginge’ answered “No” so Mrs. Martin tried to guess again,
with one more taste upon her lips, she asked, “Is this champagne?”
‘Ginge’ shook his head when saying “No”, so Mrs. Martin gave a sigh,
“Well I give up,” she smiled at ‘Ginge’ “No, I’ll give it one more try.”
So on her lips goes one last taste to resolve this gift of grog
as Ginger interrupted - “Mrs. Martin … it’s a little puppy dog.”
"The Union"
You lift me up when I have no strength
When I feel things are too rough
Today tomorrow and forever you go the extra length
Because of you I've been given a chance to be tough
In your arms you show me true love
As a symbol of security you've become my dove
You've taught me in all things we will cling to hope
The reason I don't need to get scared when I feel I'm at the end of my rope
In the moments I feel things aren't fair or just
You've taught me to believe in the two of us I must
It's protection and security when we are joined together
That things go from heavy as a rock to light as a feather
You're there through the worst the unsure and the best
And united together we are a force that stands every test
Through every minute hour and second that time seems to stand still and freeze
You make the whispers of the wind give a refreshing calm breeze
I find myself assured that with you as we hold hands we are one like a strong lock
Your love I know has been my rock
I know time no longer stands still as we become united together as one
As God our heavenly Father says my children my work has been done
Joining hand in hand two hearts become one and I proudly say our lives have begun
The race to the finish line we are determined to run
As the world meets for the first time Mr. and Mrs. McGee
I'm humbled to say that lucky bride will be me
We will take this world by storm through the example of faith we walk
Through honest communication we glide like the beauty of a hawk
It's a privilege and a gift to know that you're going to be my husband
But you're more than just that you're my inspiration
And as we exchange vows that we've had since our first day together we promise
To be all that each other needs, wants, and ever could dream or imagine
Thanks to hard work discipline and remaining determined
As our prayers were heard and answered the Lord said we were forever destined
In honor of all he had in mind for us we will be strong and evolve to make our future ours for the making
In awe of everything yet to come I promise to give you all I have and all that I am
Before you God and our family we stand, joined hand in hand
Celebrating our union today tomorrow and for eternity
Congratulations to husband and wife, we are presented with a bonding kiss
Mr. and Mrs. John McGee
I love you John McGee
The young boy was pale,
He walked slowly in the alley
No. 41.His skeleton hand hold a rusted tin can.
He was in business,for him it was.
On his innocent face,
In a modern world,who really forgotten
Kids like him was also human too.His eyes
Pasted on a piece of bread on the dirty pavement.
On his side was tall buildings,on the other was a busy EDSA.
A dove whose feather blacken by the third world metropolis,
Peeped down from the lamp post,
Measuring the distance of the bread on the ground
Look at the child,inclining its head side ward,
Then,their eyes meet,resting on each other stare
Like eternity,
And it flew toward the blinding sun.
The boy saw a man approached,
Polished shoes landed on his lunch
The gold Rolex,tailored clothes,big ring,
A heavy necklace hung loosely on beefy neck.
Surprised on a sudden hand that raised on his way,
"Move out!" bellowed angrily,then scurried quickly on a green traffic
light. "Fool..."the boy sighed.
Business is business,he thought,as he reached out the crushed bread
Uttered a little prayer,ate it religiously with tears on his eyes.
Every bite he remembered his little brother he left this morning
on their cartoon box house
At Smokey Mountain outside Manila,its smoke ascend forever
Till the end of time,because of the corrupt lordship in kings palace
His little brother burned at stake alive waiting for his pancit.
His father was an inmate at Bilibid prison selda katorse (14)
His mother was a girl in the street.
Then an old woman came out at the Binondo Church.
Walked briskly as the wind swept the dusk on summer days.
Stopped,a discolored dirt hand spread for an alms.
Irritated,she rummaged her purse,and gently place the one peso
on the boys hand,made sure to slow her movement,maybe the rest
Were looking at her, she raised her brow and smile
"Of course.", she said sweetly
Father hope will see this act she thought that
Might mention her name in homily,Mrs. Cerbo was kind to the poor.
He spit the coin and swipe it on his dirty torn shirt
And say..."God Blessed Maddame."
Then he ran at the little Sari-sari store
Brought a piece of bread,break it into halves
He hid his share on his pocket
Then tossed the half on the side walk
When the boy had gone, blue wing landed
Ate with pride and thinking, "stupid boy..stupid boy..".
Santa felt all out of sorts up there in the pole,
the elves looked at each other and shook their heads.
They had tried their best to jolly Santa along
but the more they tried, the sadder he got.
Finally one asked him why he was so sad
shaking his head Santa said they no longer believe.
No more do they send me letters of what they want
and telling me how good they have been.
As he sat there the tears rolled and mingled in his beard
and his belly shook and rolled over and over in folds.
The North Pole House started to melt and fall away in chunks
what can we do to get belief back into people's hearts? one asked.
We could write letters and send them to him said one
that will not work said another he knows all their names.
WE have to find a Believer and bring them here to him
for if there is no belief the North Pole house will die.
The elves searched around the world looking for just one
any one would do as long as they still believed in Santa.
Try as they might none could they find. Until one elf heard
a child crying out his heart. Why do you cry? little man,
Santa never answers my letters he said I have sent him so many
The other children laugh at me and say he no longer exists,
that he for many years has never replied to their requests.
The elf shook his head in disbelief as he listened to the child.
He threw some Christmas dust over the child and whisked him
away to the North Pole house. The child's eyes were popping
right out of his head as he watched the elves busily working.
He does still exist he screamed in excitement. He does, he does.
As for Santa, he soon cheered up and busily got to work
loading up his sled with many brightly wrapped presents.
Why did you not answer my letters Santa the child asked?
What letters? I have had no letters for what seems like years.
This mystery puzzled the elves, where on earth could they be,
It was Mrs Santa that had the answer. That old fool she said
he tucks them away in his pocket and then forgets about them
see there are hundreds it is no wonder no one still believes.
Dear oh dear said Santa my mind is so forgetful lets get them read
that Christmas children world wide received so many presents
Once again belief returned and the North Pole house was saved
As faith in Christmas was reborn and happy faces smiled and smiled
written 11/27/2014
9904
9904
CharlaXFabels
Ninenintyfour
Autofixation
A Dialog Fabel
Mrs. Smithster: BOSS let me help you clean up your computor today the new
auto program disc is arrived in my snail mail box.
BOSS: OK just don't lose any of my contacts on the list the accounts are way too
important.
JUNE: to her self: an aside: GET HIM who does he THINK he is giving me that
guff so early in the mourning.
BOSS: Poor June is my secretary and eye love her like my sister but she is so
dense the bullits bounce off her like she is Superman, or wait no Supergirl
mabe.
Narrator Ed.Note: This is the twilight zoned for the next five minutiae you can not
understand anything but this fable you have been transported to the twilight
zone. This Lady Bosses Secretary one Mrs. June Smithster has been the
receiver of a program sent to her inside her snail mail marked as a FIXIT
program disc the entire story is now centered around what comes next let's
watch what happens…
Charlax the Narrator: June reached into the envelope slowly and opened the disc
cover reluctantly she was wondering now just where it had come from it was
compelling her to use it she could feel its message somewhere near her left toe
and the eye her left eye was twitching like a nervous wrecked her whole face was
letting go she had to she had to over and over like a ROBOT compulsion she
HAD to place the disc in the BOSSES computor NOW.
June: something is almost forcing me to use this new hardware it's an alien tech
rippoff of an image of the MOON it makes me want to dress up and wear my
cape out.
Charlax the Narrator: The Bosses Computor is slowly being eaten up by the disc
all the contacts on the every list are gone the moral of the CharlaXFabel number
9904 poor gentle reader ewe is never use a disc program to enable accounts not
meant to be edited by ewe. The computor is now gone the disc dropped to the
floor lets go back and see what happens now…
BOSS: walking in to his office to check on his computor and June Smithster: well
that is not funny did the android charlock pick up my computor for cleaning
again?
Charlax the Narrator: but there is only silence from the corner of the room where
June is laying down curled up in a ball of Supergirl costume her cape lay furled
around her like a hobo blanket cover…
My dream was to be a Jane Austen - or a Virginia Woolfe,
whose novel, "Mrs. Dalloway" rocked the world,
or Kadambari - the muse who inspired the Bard in Bengali Literature.
a few fearless women -
Debjani, and Gandhari, and Draupadi, from Indian classics,
but before anyone else,
I want to be the woman who appears in my dream!
never went to school, she was not allowed,
picked up any paper when sweeping the floor,
and read - she was warned - women became widows if they read,
she was unstoppable!
she had ten kids - two still-births,
she cooked for thirty people each day,
ate her meals after she fed everyone,
she hand-knitted blankets, to keep children warm,
prayed every day for well-being of her family,
and for the universe.
my grandmother, and many women of the world of yesteryear,
started a revolution, carried the torch,
without realizing the legacy they left for us,
the burden they lifted!
The love of learning, the spiritualism, the kindness -
we imbibed as blessings...
did they see us - the women of today
in the horizon?
the modern, liberated, emancipated women,
we are today,
we attend school and choose our path,
we decide to marry or not, who to marry,
we raise our children with confidence.
we don't ask for money, we earn money,
we lead, we invent, we do miracles.
sorry Jane Austen, I would rather be my Grandma's granddaughter,
before anyone else!
March 8, 2022
Wayland here again with another clerihew to end the year
These will probably never be famous, but that isn’t the fear
Sometimes the honesty is these may be just a little too strong
They're all done in fun, but some lines seem to go wrong
The philosopher lays the blame in the characters included
Only to what’s written here on the soup has he alluded
No outer sources does he ever interview
I say sorry to those victimized by my clerihew
Mr. Bunch, I don't remember calling myself that
Hasn’t been the one known to avoid a spat
Of what he feels and sees he likes to write
These truly are in fun, with little or no spite
Jack E I haven’t looked yet to see his new work
He has so much wit he could be a funny jerk
But he writes and really abstains from anger
If he got mad though, I’d bet there’d be intellectual danger
Good thing he’s Santa with no time to read these
If you see him, probably don’t mention them please
I don’t want to encourage him with another form
The quatrain that is what has become his norm
Advancing in age but he’s still feisty old Saint Nick
If you don’t believe me you’ll have to read his limerick
I said limerick but he’s naughty in more than one
If you want a particular Santa’s Beard is filled with pun
FJ Thomas seems to enjoy being clerihewed
Her comments leave me believing she’s no prude
An example would leave some saying I’ve a dirty mind
I’d have to say did you really read or are you blind
I’m glad Mrs. Thomas decided not to leave
She felt the affection from the comments she did receive
I try to leave affectionate comments for my part
But I know often times my a** is a little to smart
How many of these about PD could I write
If I started now I’d be here till tomorrow night
She definitely is engrained everywhere just read
I still hold that of a new nemesis she has some need
Then she could destroy her imagery is uncanny
I bet under the bullying category she has many
So sweet and innocent my first impression of her
Then I went back and found why she’s called destroyer
Yes Linda couldn’t have picked a better name
The poor souls that were the victims of her fame
I remember a specific one haven’t seen him around
If she’s looking for a new victim, tell her I can’t be found
Once again note that these are all in fun, and only 99% of this should you believe, lol. I had about 5 more but ran out of space and courage haha.
Remembering Mrs. Sully always makes my face break out into smiling mode.
Her face was as craggy as a grave, there was an aluminum tooth on the left.
When she smiled, it gleamed with pure happiness, making her stories even better.
When I first met her, her ferocious stories kept my gentle side terrified, for hours.
I thought she was the Hansel and Gretel witch, because she looked like my vision of her.
There was a unique smell around Mrs. Sully, an earthy, vegetable-type smell.
She was always in her garden, killing snakes, big black ones, with large mouths.
She relished showing us how she whacked them with her hoe, hacking them to pieces.
Although short, stooped over and old, she was a force no snake wanted to encounter.
Her stories were full of spit and vim, anger, and devilishly mean murders and such.
If you decided to share a story, she did not hear it, she did not pause if you wanted to talk.
You had to walk along beside her, acting like wearing two or three house dresses
over each other under a pair of overalls was normal, seeing the bibs and lace stick out like crazy.
Her expertise was incessant talking, not waiting for social cues or societal nonsense like that.
She knew about all the hangings that had ever happened in the county, and relished telling
About them in full-force detail, hoping to keep us on our toes, ripe with worry.
All you have to do is mention the words Mrs. Sully, and the old-timers smile, remembering
Those awful hangings, and what happened after the rope was yanked, because we all knew.
Sometimes I swear I see her in her old black hat, pulled down nearly to her eyes,
Stooped carriage, pushing a rusty brown wheelbarrow full of produce, from one farm to another.
We were lucky, our house was smack in the middle, so we would run out and hear the tale of the day.
She owned two properties, a block and a half from each other, one of them had goats.
If we were really lucky, she would have one of her mean goats on a little leash and we could walk our block with it, as it butted us with its angry head.
Rumors said the goats slept in the house with her. It did not matter to me, she was a character
I will never forget her, sometimes picturing that amazing aluminum tooth, which told excellent
Stories. Stories I do not dare tell my own sweet grandchildren, as they stay up too late already.
20FabelSEVEN
Charlexes Fabels
Gardenor
A Mexican sweat is just a teepee with a fire made hotter and a rock placed where
you can pour the water on the hot rock to make some steam come up and they
add some pine to make a smell so sweet to tired alcoholic lidded eye eye did my
time cold TURKEY and never needed one. One man who works in landscaping
as the gardenor becomes too busy to notice the other man escaping on the
sidewalk it is the thief the gardenor is using both his hands in his effort for
release the other man in shadow land appearance coinciding with the worker
there just thinking while he is walking hands in pocket just holding on to nothing
as he sort of Saunders bye? Saunders
For over 60 years Saunders Manufacturing in Readfield, Maine has made top
quality Form Holders and Clipboards for millions of customers worldwide. Now
our new Portable Desktop line continues the tradition. Just a coincidence please
Gentile reader ewe must understand the non commercial usage of this poem
business. A Random act of kindness to your senses.
Charles (surname)
Charles is a given name for males, and has its origins in Common Germanic
where it originally was used to indicate a free man, but not one belonging to the
nobility.
While eye was typing this the contact email on the link opened up into a brand
new page and never made connected to the name? please people if you put the
actual name of your email address then we the customers can copy and then
past the thing and then you could have read my fable and had a much better day
oh Mr. and the Mrs. Saunders. The Gardenor may read this missive iff eye bother
to make the translation into Spanish for the bulk males of the working force is
Mexicans.
GARDINER: From the Danish for "garden keeper." A noble profession and a vivid
name. Relatives: Gardener, Gardenor, Gardner, Gardnard, Garden, Gar.
Namesakes: Erle Stanley Gardner, John Gardner. Eye am just a Charles
derivative a CHARLAX iff ewe will of some great import a relic not a derelict of
duty a lover never a fighter a want to be husband to the ewe oh ewe please smile
as ewe aer reading this one and be sure.
Jealousy is never meant to make us harm but only to make love come back so
strong to make the other one in love return a little stronger than she was before
the Jealousy.
Love is an ocean never-ending
Drink from it
You will be delirious
When the fever of love engulfs
You will be frenzied
Coherently incoherent
At times
Love is an ocean , drink from it
It is not salty but
Luksweet
Half sweet like a peach
An apple an avocado
I think of you
When the sun peeps and yellow.ascends
I feel you your kindness and compassion
Your love your passion your tenderness
Your idiosyncrasies your temperament
Patterns your composite intricacies
I know
I think of you when the sun touches
The dews on the sleeping leaves
Photosynthesis for my soul
You
Drink from it
You will be ecstatic euphoric
Elated I promise
Love is an ocean
Love is a synonym for god
It is every where omnipresent
It is in the air
I feel it
I am in the inferno
Love is rain
Colorless odourless tasteless
It is a catalyst
Neither looses nor gain but enhances
It is given
Most complain some understands
A few enjoy
That is their
destiny.
I think of you when the sun it at its peak
When every pour in my skin secrete
The aroma of your innocence
I breathe
You swirl around like a funnel cloud
Sucking into its lure your exquisite
Touch I am at peace
Love blossoms in the winter too
Breaks the thread of your silent t beads
Love is not a mirage
Opens the locks of your camouflaged
longings
Love is cool love is blue
Yellow green pink violet purple
Love is red like blood
Excuse me but lady you needs glasses.
And so does mrs justice over there
Both you broads are blind as bats
Stumbling through the system
Justice bumped into bulbous and
Tripping on republic of plato
But stepped right over a
Killed little black ant
,I am moving to a new abode
Abode, ? what is that”
It is to dwell reside
In a particular condition attitude
Relationships frequencies
To endure to sustain in a different
Realm of infinite possibilities
“ I don’t understand
“ No comprendo,por favour
Habla des pacio,please
Speak slowly
Her eyes were brimming with
Blue tears about to fall
Down
Form: