Long Niece Poems
Long Niece Poems. Below are the most popular long Niece by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Niece poems by poem length and keyword.
We attended a candle-lit concert…with joy and wonder already built in.
It was the music of Adele…performed by 1 cello and 3 violins.
For a little while that evening…if was our aim…our intention…our goal
to allow the candles to light up our hearts…while the music soothed our souls.
Because we needed to be mesmerize, to be enchanted and enthralled…
to put on hold…for a moment…the horrible things our government is doing
to people outside the concert hall.
As we waited to enter we met and talked to a young couple…
they liked Adele but their favorite artist is Coldplay…
This couple was from London, England…(we could listen to them talk all day).
We met another couple and the group we were standing with let out a cheer
when we discovered it was their anniversary…they’ve been married for seven years.
With the aid of Google we helped another couple…who were on the edges of despairing…
by reading to them the correct way to get lip gloss out of the clothes that they were wearing.
Once inside…(we showed up early…we hate to arrive late)
we met up with our niece…attending the concert with her date.
Then we all sat down to listen to the music of Adele played by 1 cello and 3 violins…
and let the music lift us up…and take us to places we’ve never been.
Every now and then I’d close my eyes…then open them before the song was done
only to see a thousand notes floating in the air…landing on everyone.
When I described the people we met that night …the ones listening to 1 cello and 3 violins…
I deliberately omitted any information about what they looked like…
their sexual preference, their gender…the color of their skin.
Because it didn’t matter to the notes onto whose shoulders they were landing
or to the music…into whose ears it flew….
and if it didn’t matter to the notes or the music…why should it matter to you.
Music sees us as humans…it does not see our sex, gender color or name…
to the notes that emanated from 1 cello and 3 violins…we all look the same.
When the concert ended we did feel mesmerized, enchanted and enthralled…
and we wished this feeling of togetherness and unity…would extend outside the concert hall.
Perhaps that’s what our government…every government needs…before any session begins…
to take a moment…close their eyes and listen…to the music of 1 cello and 3 violins.
At Christmas, by the fire's gentle glow,
The secrets shared, a whispered, silent flow.
My nephews, bright, with eyes so full of glee,
And my sweet niece, a sight for all to see.
The firelight dances on their youthful faces,
As sticky marshmallows leave their sticky traces.
The scent of chocolate, warm and sweet and deep,
A tapestry of memories to keep.
We toast our smores, a sticky, sweet delight,
As secrets bloom in the warm, festive light.
Of wishes whispered to the falling snow,
And dreams that only Christmas can bestow.
The world outside is sleeping, hushed and white,
But here, within, the fire burns so bright.
And in this haven, safe and warm and low,
The seeds of future secrets start to grow.
So let the embers flicker, red and gold,
As tales of wonder, young and new, unfold.
For in this moment, simple, pure, and true,
A family's bond is born anew.
King Solomon and I will fly a kite
On this historical Good Friday,
we seek justice for the young lady
Her father made her act as if she were his niece.
To deceive his new wife, so that she could live with them
His wife found out about the plot and hell would break loose.
On social media, who is in fault,
The father or the new wife,
for sure not the innocent child
A lie can bring down an empire, a lie can be engraved in history
Chioma, Chioma, anger are secondary emotions
Would love and devotion once again intertwined?
As the wise King stood beside my fingertips today
Just prayer, for kindness and forgiveness
Love conquerors all, love can lead to forgiveness,
Acid corrodes a tongue that speaks falsely
Will one day become un-Godly?
We will hold on to this kite before we release it
Time will tell in ten years,
While the innocent will endure the most suffering. (Amen)
All children should reside under their father’s roof
According to the biblical time:
Blood is thicker than water,
Acid corrodes a tongue that speaks falsely
Will one day become un-godly.
I went to visit her on the morning of Tuesday, March 14, 2017. Her name was still assigned to her room; so I went inside. There were bags on her bed, but no sign of my friend Beth. I questioned a nurse that was attending another patient, and she directed me to the front desk to make further inquiry. It was at that point I was informed that Beth had passed on.
Beth had departed for heaven, and I was four days late. About three years prior, after being informed by her niece of her whereabouts, I began visiting her. She was 95 when she passed away at the nursing home, having been in very poor health. She had deep longings for heaven.
There were many visits, and I was able to dialogue, sing, or read scripture with her. Although we had met some 30 years prior, she never really knew who I was when I came to visit. Her memory was gradually fading. However, when I came to visit, she always had a great smile, as if to say, "I don't really know him, but I'm loving these visits".
There were memorable visits with her, but none expressed her longings greater than her statement about a twin sister who preceded her in death. I observed a picture on the wall of Beth and her identical twin sister. I told Beth that I could distinguish her from her sister, and did so successfully. She then said in a very strong and serious tone that she was upset with her sister for going to heaven and leaving her here.
A memory barrier existed; the aging process and her health issues were breaking her body down; but I felt that the bond of friendship needed to be honored.
Within moments of being informed of Beth's passing, I was reminded of her comment about her sister and the 'longing' that I knew was so deep inside of her. As I turned and walked away, I quietly whispered, "She got her wish". 03232017cj PS
(Dedication: For my niece, Joan Chong)
Art as you see in ideas grand;
Reach for the moon as stars align;
Trust in beauty in your own blend;
Ink your own noon in tints that sign.
See with sure style a certain flair;
Touch a new thrill that fosters feel;
Indulge fond smiles that fronts sure airs;
Charm stakes fine will to touch and heal.
Truth has a say in tale and tact;
Allow your soul to create stuff;
Love comes to stay in art and pact;
Emote one whole that feels enough;
Note inspired play in thoughts that act;
Touch reveals pole as change now puffs.
Joy has a name in glimpse and sight;
Opt to bring cheer in visions spawned;
Allow the same to show fine light;
Now let thought steer grandeur that dawns.
Choose your own say in art and grace;
Hone your fine skills as image sings;
Own line art play as colours trace;
Niche fond goodwill with pictured flings;
Greet each array in time and space.
Hope wears a smile with easy feel;
Urge knows a touch that creates thought;
Reap a bold style that comes to heal;
Live more and much in each new plot;
See art worthwhile that now reveals.
Leon Enriquez
08 May 2014
Singapore
I know my cat, Ziggy, and my cat Ziggy, knows me
See, I can’t keep him away from my Christmas tree
So, this year, just wait for it, what I brought home
A Christmas tree, for Ziggy, one of his very own
I decked it out, while Ziggy watched from outside
Ziggy got in, slid across the wooden floor, to hide
I made sure it is a miniature tree, that looks like mine
It has everything on it, I’m pretty good with design
I caught Ziggy peeking at me, while licking his paws,
He turned around back to his post, to sharpen his claws
All except for lights, Ziggy’s mini tree looked great
Just like the tree my niece and I shall decorate
There are tassels, elves, and plenty of bulbs that glisten
Melodic bells will be chiming, Christmas tunes if you listen
Presents tied up in bows, and the stockings are hanging
Cranberries and popcorn strung around are dangling
Like a lovely Christmas card, our place looks swell
When you just get to thinking that all is going well
That’s when you begin to notice that it isn’t so,
Toys are missing and the glow bulbs don’t glow
My kitty, the destroyer, is impossible, he is the worst
I’ve dealt with him before, this disaster, it’s not the first
What I thought was Ziggy massaging his sequin pillow,
Was a designer Kate Spade, handbag, a gift, I still owe
He was chewing the purse, I laughed, then I cried
Oh, Ziggy silly kitty, I waited, until my tears dried
He’s my pet, doing what cats do, and so I'll let him be
What’s a cat supposed to do, a Christmas tree's just a tree!
The owls were the last to arrive to the oak.
Selfish ebony ravens refused to scoot over.
Are all ravens the same then? I asked the storyteller.
She is my niece, and I discovered does not like interruptions.
She nodded her head. All of them, she said firmly. Exactly alike.
So none of them have minds of their own? She glared at me.
Turned her back and continued to tell her tale. Witches flew in from the north.
All of them? I asked. Every single one came from the same direction?
She stomped off.
I could hear her offer to tell a story to her daddy.
They will get along famously.
They both like to generalize all ghosts, all owls, all witches.
SHE IS GONE, THEY ARE GONE
I am at a lost within myself and going out of my head.
No, I am not depressed or anything, I fully know what
depression is like for I had it a few times and I do not
see darkness, the old friend who went away for good.
My best friend, she is gone and the thought of never
seeing her again hit me, like a boulder knocking a part
of my mind that all memories of death just flooded me.
All these deaths this year that did not really hit me hard
to crumble, fall apart or be out of my mind are hitting me.
My niece, my brother and my mother in January and my
two cousins and aunt thousands of miles away in February,
in March and on May six, respectively and now my best friend.
All the deaths in my family in yesteryear just hit me, like
they were only yesterday or recently and I’m just going out
of my mind and thinking what my grandmother used to say,
“We don’t know when we are going to die, where and how”.
My best friend is gone, they are gone and I really don’t
understand why I feel so wistful at this time, was it because
I never grieved or never grieved long enough, getting over
them quickly and moving on for thinking death is a part of life?
Or is it because of the Corona Virus restricting us to see them
and spend time with them before they passed on giving us those
last precious moments of touching them, expressing our love
and saying our goodbyes that we are not even able to do at all.
Ahh… she is gone… they are gone… their time came… all right.
She is gone… they are gone… I am here… I will be all right!!!
6/3/21 All Yours (Jun 4) Poetry
Brian Strand
KINDNESS SQUEEZE
Evolving darkness cocoons Mother Earth . . .
Apathy¬ rampant chronic mob disease;
Still, I believe etch to flesh a kindness worth.
An embryos growth waiting ¬ needing ease.
Sun rays choir with wind conceives hope that seize,
Beckons me, I smile to cheer the world in need.
Sprinkling a wilted plant waving back rebirth.
Nameless, unremembered kindness is love seed...
One leisure walk inside boulevard girth,
I say hello to someone named Louise,
Who ask the beautiful spots here in Perth.
Louise says: "It's my first time overseas..."
Conversing slow under cool autumn breeze.
I slowly strew breadcrumbs, I brought, to feed
Flocks of hungry teased birds from seven seas.
Nameless, unremembered kindness is love seed...
Offering calls if she needs anything as I set forth.
I jog while extending my hands and knees.
Heading then to my home near highway North,
I stop, thank God, for the rainbow quilt from trees.
for my niece, I bought the best bagel with cheese.
Not her birthday but because she's nice indeed!
Light ¬dark; good ¬bad her patience a trapeze.
Nameless, unremembered kindness is love seed...
Locked ~ drooping hearts balm is a kindness squeeze.
Tieing strangers shoelace, a kindness head deed.
Sharing a meal with a beggar without fees.
Nameless, unremembered kindness is love seed...
(c)Olive Eloisa
5:20 PM
July 13, 2014
The 5 Stages of grief
Step 1
Denial surely that couldn't have been me
That just reversed over and killed you my Boomer
Step 2
Deny as I may did I just hear my 10 year old Niece actually say
Sorry Uncky Chris the Vet has had to put him down
Step 3
Everyone trying to make me feel better
Saying at least it was you
Can you imagine if it was someone else who did it ?
Step 4
NO !
How in any way would that make me feel better
I just killed the only thing in this life
I actually LOVED
Above myself, Above Anything
I would rather have killed Myself
Step 5
Dear Heart
You are dead to me
For you have taken all I hold dear and worthy to me
And you ask of me Denial ?
I choose neither to deny or fieign Denial
For my part and what i have done
I have to live with this
And so I should
No Denial nothing to deny here
Just guilt and a broken heart
On behalf of my part
But that won't make me whole again
Or bring you back to express just how sorry I am my 1 true friend
The only thing I can't deny
Or am in Denial of
Is just how much I loved you
And what you meant to me
Rest in Peace
My furry 4 legged friend
I miss you more than you will ever know