Long Old adage Poems
Long Old adage Poems. Below are the most popular long Old adage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Old adage poems by poem length and keyword.
Buoyed over waves of elation
Marvel at favourable sights of creation
Prospect for attainment visible
Within glossy bastion, even trials seems agreeable
Mollusk of endearing devotion, grumbling for denied favours seem so easy
How progenitors of our existence purse their frustrations makes one feel lousy
Reeking of corrupted souls, makes tastebuds sour to elixir
Grafted as second skin blends to exude a new color
Aversion so easily discerned when everything awash
How chameleon spirit avulsed everything from one in a stroke of whiplash
Hooters perched on the demise of accrued inheritance
Consternation that needs to be shackled for their malefactor dance
When plunder acknowledged for their vantage
Stipends bequeathed as morsels to owner of the heritage
When the bubble finally bursts
Lesson that even if one's dominion life is not always just
Monitoring in anticipation stranger's and dear ones alike by holter
Affirms the old adage that blood is thicker than water
*Image of Sundial Lawn Landscape by Pixabay.
What is a sundial in the shade?
"What is a sundial in the shade?"
use your gifts and be not afraid,
let your light so shine before men,
and share to all your waking ken,
all simple minds can see the hill,
yet, few whose beacon shines their skill,
ignorance ain't so much a shame,
to be well-learned you should proclaim,
the skilled will test the watery deep,
knowing fully ne'er use both feet,
slip of the foot you'll recover,
slip of the tongue you'll ne'er get o'er,
no one should be their own teacher,
lest a fool will be their master,
an old adage; with age comes wisdom,
although, age comes alone for some.
2021 September 23
*4th Place*
Motto Matters
~~Natasha L Scragg: Judged 2021 September 30
He visits the coffee shop every week
On Thursday, his personal treat
Buys skinny latte, with biscotti
Then takes his regular seat
In the alcove, by the window
Sits to watch the world go past,
With book taken from his ‘man-bag’
Settles, to enjoy his repast
He used to come in with his ‘Mrs’
Now he frequents on his own,
Looking out of the window, and reading
He’s content with sitting alone
Odd times, when the shop is busy
Someone will take up the opposite chair
Some, if inclined, he’ll talk to
Most, he won’t notice are there
He’s happy in his own world
Simply, just getting by
At times, he looks so lonely
It breaks my heart, and I could cry
There must be others, in the world like him
Widowed, divorced, estranged,
Who keep on going through the ‘old routine’,
Living in fear of change
Acting out the old adage of ‘life goes on’
When they lose husband, partner or wife,
Sticking with the same day to day regimes
To help them muddle through life
Maintaining the familiar,
Can help you to stay strong,
Until the day you find yourself ready for change;
You’ll feel the time’s right to move on
Until that day for ‘The Man in the Window’ arrives
He’ll keep visiting every week,
Persisting in his habitual routine
To find the solace he seeks
For now, he sips the last of his coffee,
Neatly packs away his tome;
With a nod of farewell to the barista’s
Solitarily, leaves, to head home.
Indeed old is gold
and so's I'm told
Don't be in a hurry
to have all antiques sold
For this old adage
Todate water it holds.
Indeed the good old days
had some good old ways.
So I'd rather not
exchange
old lamps for new
lest I suffer as in
Aladdin's tale
and lose everything of
value.
For if I lose my old lamps
I haven't a genie to
restore my loss
Thus beware of
modernism's shams
Don't let 'change' be
your boss.
We should know what
best be preserved
So olden values are
granted the respect they
deserved.
For some 'olds' are such
pure golds
that like gold they never
fade nor catch moulds
Likewise some golden
traditions are real
treasures
that can't be left behind
to the past generation
in exchange for surface
new pleasures
For that would be soil,
oops nooh, soul and
culture erosion
Pray keep some olden
golden customs from
such corrosion!
Ah the old mores
they might seem such
bores
but it's they who make
the best folklores!
Change for the better,
not for the worst
Always assess and
analyze any new thing
first.
(my religion has time-
tested valuable time-old
values too.)
gold is old
and old is gold.
There is an adage…a belief…I’ve heard some people say…
how every day may not be magical…but there is magic in every day.
And wondering if the people who use this aphorism really do know best
Here in North Carolina…we put this adage to the test.
We spent a day in Asheville…and before the day came to and end
we had the opportunity to meet with or talk to some of our family members and friends.
We had lunch with our great-granddaughter and her parents.
A great lunch where we couldn’t finish every bite
Then sat in the grass at the Biltmore Estate
and watched it light up at night.
We spent the night in a hotel…and soon after we closed our eyelids
our dreams were filled with the magic of everything we did.
Looking back without pretension…I would have to say…
with all the magic we experienced…It was a truly magical day.
But…we’ve also been blessed in our life…for we’ve developed a flair..
of finding little bits of magic everyday and everywhere.
In waking up together, enjoying flowers, sharing a walk
where sometimes we are silent…and other times…we talk.
Listening to the birds…smelling grass that’s newly mowed
eating lunch out on the porch…sharing ice cream…Rocky Road.
Which means when it comes to that old adage…
I have a different way to spin it…
Because I think any day can be thought of as magical…
if it has a whiff of magic in it.
~ The Ways of the Forest ~
Beckons the forest
Come follow me
My winding trail
will sure delight thee
Through bush and brambles
thickets and clearings
The sun unnoticed
Earth's horizon nearing
Of a sudden, a chill
raced down the girl's spine
At the howl of the wolf
and the fox's whine
She lay herself down
close by a river
Darkness her blanket
affrighted, she shivered
*****
They say that the ways
of the forest are cruel
To that hoary old adage
this tale may add fuel
August 14, 2020
Strand Completely New (22) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
I grew up holding a dear man in high esteem,
And as strange to you as it may seem,
Though there was a plethora of heroes to be had,
My all time hero was and is my dear old Dad!
He led his family by setting a Godly example.
His loving kindness was more than ample.
Struggling through the Great Depression,
Supporting his family was his only obsession!
He was a devout believer in God and his nation,
And was always active in his congregation.
Dad was a firm believer in the Golden Rule,
Espousing that old adage teaching Sunday School!
Though he has been gone for many years,
I still think of him and shed rueful tears,
As I recall the greatest hero I know of.
Care of his family and others was a labor of love.
He made no ripples as he traveled life's rocky road,
And with many burdens his back was bowed.
Just an ordinary factory worker in the local town,
No doubt in Heaven he wears a many-starred crown!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
A tribute to my father, William John Hinshaw
DO I HAVE TOMORROW
I could have done It Yesterday
that task that need be performed.
Sometime before the clouds had formed
Early in the morn.
I could have started.
And maybe finished.
I could have had a swift farewell
With all the time left in the world.
Will tomorrow come, praytell?
As the old adage goes;
"Tomorrow is not promised"
What it holds nobody knows.
Yes, I could have done It all today;
But I bought my self some time.
I should have written, how much I needed to see your face once more;
How I could have followed you to wherever it was you wanted to go.
But I was saving all that for the next day.
There is always tomorrow, didn't want to crowd out your day.
If I had known that the things that happened,
we're going to happen; I would have answered
the question that your eyes asked of me.
I could have said something that made sense.
Done something to make a difference.
I do not believe in tomorrow anymore.
I only know of the now.
Not certain about two minutes from now.
Tomorrow, I know will come for someone'
Tomorrow, left me stranded on the road waiting.
She took her last induced breath, an all my tomorrow's
are now empty. This place I occupy called earth.
This flesh, this life, This certain death.
I find has left me bereft.
Even If tomorrow comes for me, and promises me more of the same,
I would trade them for three of yesterday's most painful days.
If I could only hear my daughters laugh again.
I'd speak of tomorrow no more.
Today, I care nothing for tomorrow.
I only wish to relive three days before that day
As I dwell on yesterday.
We’ve reached a turning point,
Possibly a point of no return
Where trust and accommodation
Has reached a limit.
For the past 120 years, especially the last 60,
Men have been accommodating
The cause of women’s equality.
But now it’s clear to all, women are not equal
On the basis of biology alone.
Men are wired for leadership
And women for nurturing.
So long ago women
With their child rearing roles were protected.
To the point of infantilization sometimes,
And sometimes deservedly so
Which surely pissed off the majority
Who could clearly handle their own.
And so the past century has unfolded
With the rise of women to all levels of power.
And men have mostly just rolled over,
Because, you know, women certainly
Have something men want.
The Clancy mistrial and near acquittal
Has exposed the lie in all this,
And has set the cause of feminism back
At least a century, despite a perceived victory.
Men think and women feel
(The two making a superb compliment),
But the lack of reason in this case
Is making men wonder if too much hasn’t been lost.
Maybe women shouldn’t be in positions
Of highest authority and power
Let alone left unsupervised with children…
Maybe there are limits to how far
The game of make believe equality can be played.
Like an inversion of Franklin’s old adage,
Better to let ten criminals go free
Than convict one innocent man,
The ten sane and stable women will be punished
To let the weaker one go free.
In the name of protecting the one
They have pulled back all
To the position of once again
Being treated as half children themselves.
If I was a woman I’d be furious.
And if I was a man
I’d say, fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
(9/8/26)
“A true friendship is a lifetime treasure” – Quote by Poet
Looking at the perennially full valley of river,
its ebullient water not stopping to flow ever,
I remembered the age-old adage,
a reality, the true friends are forever.
Ages ago on a summer dusk we had met
on the river front, the sun was sinking to set,
I saw trust glisten in colors in your intense eyes,
knew, its lasting hues our friendship would get.
Way out of distress in dark times I couldn’t find,
I found you like my second shadow right behind,
your supporting hands strongly clasping mine,
guided me to light, I followed you like a blind.
The sky fell, I was buried in the ruins of sorrow,
how to rise from debris of destiny I didn’t know.
You came to my wreck fleeting like a butterfly,
I learned to fly on wings of hope I could then grow.
The full moon made sequined stream for me to adore,
and I felt the ecstasy of life flow through my heart's core.
We swam together till dulcet dawn under starry sky,
knew, you’d be by my side, in my mind, forevermore.