Long Old Poems
Long Old Poems. Below are the most popular long Old by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Old poems by poem length and keyword.
We proudly salute Old Glory! Our honorable national flag!
Let high our star spangled banner high and wide.
And let us pledge our allegiance to our national
sovereignty. In order for us to continue to be,
"the land of the free and the home of the brave."
"One nation under God let us always be."
So all of God's people continue to be free.
With glorious victory unto victory!
United together as one people,
throughout our land.
We will stand. But divided we will fall.
Let us come to arms and answer
our nation's call. With true liberty
and justice for all our people!
The price of freedom did not come free.
Our founding fathers and founding mothers
Paid the ultimate sacrifice to guarantee our
national sovereignty.
And the higher price of freedom and
liberty came at the ultimate cost
and did not come for free. We must
not take our freedom for granted.
Forces we face today want to
deprive our people of their
liberty, justice and freedom.
United we can defeat them.
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
July 03, 2020
Fehu bestoweth golden hope
Uruz doth endure battles through strength
Thurisaz provoketh strife and guardeth my rose
Whilst Anuz communicates with divine length
Raidho pursueth journeys of measured rhythm
Kenaz illuminates creative spiritual knowledge
Gebo granteth gifts as infinitum
As Wunjo doth harness harmony in a college
Hagalaz transformeth with tempests and chaos
Nauthiz, by resistance, takes constraint
Isa blossoms in stillness, as iciness plays on
Yet, Jera rewardeth cycles of harvest in haste
Eihwaz endureth death, resilience, and rebirth
Perthro revealeth mystery and knowledge
Algiz defendeth with steadfast and mighty girth
So, Sowilo shineth in sunny sparks of voltage
Tiwaz upholdeth justice, making a leader
Berkano bringeth fertility with new beginnings
Ehwaz uniteth partners and team seekers
For Mannaz exalteth communal incentives
Laguz floweth as a stream to raise intuition
Ingwaz concealeth fertile power and energy
Dagaz breaketh visions from night imprisoned
Whilst Othala preserveth heritage in memories
"ALL RISE! THIS HONORABLE COURT IS NOW OPEN AND IN SESSION!"
Th' court room wuz his domain, bailiffin' wuz his profession!
No one dared hornswoggle him in that hallowed room.
Should any nonsense occur, he'd surely lower th' boom!
Usin' th' butts uv his forty-fours, he'd gavel th' court to order.
An' he pounded agin an' agin to quell any cheeky disorder!
The wisened old judge tolerated th' bailiff with some bemusement.
His antics provided folks with local lore an' amusement!
He'd served th' venerable judge fer years on th' western frontier.
His steely-eyed glare filled grovelin' scalawags with fear!
Hoss thieves, cattle rustlers an' drunks he'd seen galore,
An' desperadoes, train an' bank robbers by th' score!
Warn't no guns er bowie knives 'lowed thro' th' front door,
An ya better aim fer th' spittoon an' not mess up his floor!
B'fore enterin' his sacred realm ya'd better wipe off yer boots.
He didn't take no guff frum any of them hell-raisin' galoots!
Adjournment wuz gaveled fer th' old feller an' is talked uv today.
He met th' Big Judge In The Sky, on th' cold floor where he lay.
Seems he vigorously gaveled his rods, a stray slug hit his head!
Th' judge couldn't cope with that an' he too keeled over dead!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
“to hold, as ‘twere, the mirror up to nature” William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1601
+++++
The house seemed smaller, seen with older eyes...
The street seemed narrower, the trees taller..
Where once were open fields across the road
New construction had bloomed
The small fruit orchard had disappeared
But somehow we knew it would still be there....
Strangely different, ...yet the same
There was an unfamiliar small red tricycle
On the flagstone path that we laid...
In front of this little house that lies
Beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...
Suddenly, thirty years faded into that autumn day
And quickly had become a springtime of our lives.....
...of first Christmas trees,..of first anniversaries...
...a place where I cried night after night when mother died...
...and spent long, starry nights holding newborn babes....
Yes....it is all still there, in the little yellow house
Funny, but I'm glad they kept the yellow...
It has the same white shutters...
The little yellow house, with a flagstone pathway that we laid
That sits beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...
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4/20/11 Submitted for Constance La'France's Contest "The Tree"
By Carrie Richards
Have you ever seen a grizzly... bare?
And told him to put on some clothes
I did that once, but it must have upset him
Because he reared back on his toes
Well this guy's no freaking big hero
So I started to take off like a shot
But before I could, he grabs me and says
“I'm your friend... like it or not!”
Mr. Grizzly must surely have noticed
Sweat pouring down from my brow
He started to laugh like big bears do
Scared the poop out of me... holy cow!
As he held me, I calmed down a little
He seemed like a right friendly chap
But those teeth of his were really big
He was drooling from his cavernous yap
All in all, seemed like a kindly old soul
Neither nasty, nor scary, nor mean
I asked if he'd like to come home for honey
But I insisted he wear some jeans
The reason is because of the wee kiddies
Not nice to go showing your parts
It's just a matter of common decency
Wanted to get that straight from the start
So off we go, Mr. Grizzly and me
I'm feeling warm and fuzzy all over
Another new friend to share some laughs
Along with my old dog Rover
©Jack Ellison 2012
It is a ritual the old man has observed since he was a little boy…
a ritual that fills his heart with love and fills his mind with joy…
Every morning…the moment he rises from his bed…as he thinks about his yesterday…and about today…what lies ahead.
He turns to the east and prays for the respect that will help him to behave…then he turns to the north and prays for the courage and strength it will take to be brave.
Next he turns to the west and prays for wisdom and truth…then to the south for kindness and honesty…then he turns his gaze to the Earth and prays for humility.
Next he pauses for a moment before turning to the sky above
and to whomever is up there listening…he begins to pray for love.
For he knows if even one direction of his prayers is answered…
when he walks out his front door…
he will be a better person
than he was the day before.
Our little dog is getting old,
a poodle black as night
or so he was when just a lad
but now he’s almost white.
He follows Joan around the house
he’s not the one to roam,
if she goes out and leaves him there,
he cries ‘til she gets home.
He is a sprightly little dog
’though age has made its call,
he’s nearly deaf and almost blind
so now runs into walls.
I hope when I’m as old as he,
in ‘human terms’ I mean,
I’ll still be bouncing full of joy
as our dogs always been.
So take a moral from our dog
however old you get,
if you let old age slow you down
it’s you who needs the vet!
Ivor G Davies
This house was part-founded by the nobles
Who counseled the monarchs of our land
Then strengthened by the Magna Carter
Signed by King Johns’ royal hand
At first its foundations were rocky
As house and monarchs just couldn’t agree
On decisions, and who had the final say
From time to time, it would end violently
As in the 17th century with civil unrest
Between the Kings’ Cavaliers and the roundheads
The house, led by Cromwell, won the war
King Charles alas, ended up dead
The clash between house and Kings ended
With the ‘Glorious Revolution’,
And the passing of ‘the Bill of Rights’
Giving rise to our Constitution
The house since then has seen changes
At the passing of each new decade,
With the Constitution amended
As each new bill has been made
Today the house has elected officials,
The peoples ‘voices’ to represent
Standing proud in the name of democracy
This old house that is our Parliament.
Lord! Why is it some folks consider it their solemn obligation,
To render unto me the details of their every operation?
No matter whence I go, I go with the expectation,
That about someone's operation I'll suffer an explanation!
Ah! To relax at the club for some stimulating conversation.
To enjoy an exquisite cigar and imbibe in a little libation!
But, invariably some feller launches an interminable dissertation,
Giving a blow-by-blow description of his latest operation!
I always ask for a window seat when making a plane reservation,
For a little solitude, for some musing and quiet meditation.
Usually, the little old lady next to me begins a long narration,
Describing more than I care to know about her delicate operation!
I enjoy walking and marveling at the beauty of God's Creation,
And along the way to sit awhile for some quiet contemplation.
Univited, some old geezer sits and begins a detailed oration,
Babbling on and on about his recent hernia operation!
Thought provoking tete-a-tetes fill me with exhilaration,
And I gain from such encounters insightful information.
But dad-gum it! Consarn it! And holy thunderation!
Please spare me the details of your every operation!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Growing old, things loved and cherished come and go.
Phone calls- text messages thinning.
Tossed aside in a world of folly and thickening frost-
Growing old in a world that keeps getting colder.
Hard faces-hovering over graying steps.
Cobwebs in the corner of an empty nest.
Growing old, another funeral procession -one friend less.
Life becoming an endless blue eulogy-nothing more, nothing less.
Layers of experiences - wisdom making very little difference
Growing old, what am I to leave behind...
A fistful of photos- memories forgotten
A few half-assed poems
a small sack of dirty dimes.
Where does time go when it's tired?
Years lost to a breeze-like a willow in spring.
Hard times and regret chirp away at the mind
Like sparrows on a line-so little time.
Where did the time go,
I wish I could buy a little bit more.
To release this overdue dream from its chrysalis.
Place barbed words back in the voice box.
Pay the toll for goals unmet.
I need a bit more time for apologies.
To tether forgiveness to regret.
Where did the time go, growing old?