Long Outings Poems
Long Outings Poems. Below are the most popular long Outings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Outings poems by poem length and keyword.
I have yet to meet you, but I have always held the belief that you are a remarkable and beautiful individual. My desire is to create lasting memories with you, to compose chapters filled with love, enchanting experiences, family outings, and an overall union that would make God proud. Although I am unaware of your appearance, your physical form, or the depths of your mind and soul, I am certain that when you arrive, I will cherish you in the manner you deserve. I aspire to cultivate a relationship characterized by comfort, empathy, and unwavering support, ensuring that I remain by your side through all circumstances. My vision includes a loving home, a sanctuary of peace that our family can take pride in, one that may even astonish the outside world. I yearn to celebrate your achievements and shower you with praise, as you represent an experience I have longed for but have yet to encounter. I wish to share laughter with you, navigate the highs and lows of life together, and confront any challenges that arise, for you are truly worth it. You will be included in my prayers each morning and evening, as I express gratitude to God for your presence in my life and for the incredible woman and mother you are. I envision our love as tranquil as a flowing river and as serene as mountain air. Thus, I will patiently await your arrival, for you are deserving of every ounce of love that resides in my heart, which I have yet to share with anyone. The moment I see your face and feel your energy, I will know that I can finally close the chapter on my quest for love and the enduring desire for connection. I eagerly anticipate your presence, my source of peace.
Those we have loved and passed are never far from us, often visiting us in our dreams
and always with us in our memories.
Quote by poet.
I went for a walk in the countryside it, was a warm June day.
My wife Sue accompanied me, and we had packed a picnic.
After an hour we stopped on the top of a hill overlooking a
valley where a river flowed through it and we just stared at
its serene beauty. We loved outings like this where if only for
a short time we had the whole wide world to ourselves.
Sue picked some wildflowers to press and frame so she
could hang them on our wall at home. Suddenly I heard a
loud ringing, it was my daughter checking to see if I was okay.
I told her that I'd been having a beautiful dream and that her
mom was with me, but she had died tragically six years ago,
leaving me with dreams and only happy memories of her.
in what I believe
in the poetry I conceive
of life
of love
an mother earth
of marriage
my wife
a rebirth
soul mates
a roll in the sheets
European outings
our little trips
of friends
family
good wine
sunny days bar b ques
rainbows
summer showers
sleeping in late
with my soul mate
note’s with kisses on it
long conversations in bed
the wind on a cold winter day
morning coffee
the smell of your perfume
after you leave
and this is what I believe
The horses of life are halted
Something, most certainly, world has never wanted
Humans are locked inside their houses
They are forced to give time to their spouses
Schools closed, Factories shut, ban on outings, and open markets
This version of life has surely been long disregarded
Beaches are taking long breaths
For they are getting rid of plastic and filths
Oceans are getting clearer
Apart from marine creatures, who seems cheerer?
Lions, deers, and bears have banished their fears
And roam freely on the land which was once theirs
For humans, staying in home is just like staying behind the bars
Meanwhile, Mother Earth has started to heal her scars
Ozone layer is recovering, Pollution level is decreasing
Instead of noise of automobiles & machines, birds are twittering
They fly freely without any fear of being caught
And Milky away can be seen clearly too for she has lifted all her veils, right!
Sun laughs loudly, Moon seems to have learnt new spells
I reckon we were and we are the virus of this mother Earth
Sky has finally responded to her call, though a bit late
But he is, with all his love, making her clean and green in haste
Human beings sob and cry, thousands have died and many are dying
But mother Earth is enjoying punching, in the face pollution and Global warming
Clouds sing louder than ever
Earth inebriated by the music, dance along her loyal friends
We surely didn't see that coming...
For pose a threat to her and her friends....
Would she not be happy without us...?
(~Paghunda Zahid
15th April, 2020)
Mister Everett Wheeler Cartwright came from Burlington Vermont
All the way to Massachusetts---quite a healthy jaunt
Didn't really understand the cause the Union fought so hard for
Freedom from King George of England---far beyond his ken, and
Dying from an errant bullet, no one said to Everett Wheeler
Cartwright, "Happy Holiday!"---at his untimely end.
********
Eldridge Porter Hampton hailed from Cotton Valley Louisiana
Had no money, had no slaves, but loved his hoe and banjo
Never heard of Douglas, never heard of Lincoln; couldn't read or
write much, nothin' but his name. Yet Eldridge Porter came a runnin'
East to serve: For Johnny Rebel's legend gave him courage, gave him nerve to
face the soldier'd took his life---No 'Happy Holiday' for his wife.
********
Now the deaths are all forgotten; now the mem'ries fade away
Solders fighting wars today: mocked, reviled, e'en betrayed
"Happy Holiday" to one and all: "Memorial Weekend Super Sales"
Picnics, outings, lakeshore (or) beachside---Beer and Wine and Ale
Far removed from battles, far removed from war's numb pain
One more US Holiday---demeaned o'er tear-stained plains.
A poem in trochaic hexameter and octameter
The iridescent raven perched upon pilings
By just one lake in Friesland's beautiful wetland outings
His golden beak and orange legs with claws set off
Against black feathers that glisten and are a rain runoff
Carefully he watches the Edelhert fawn play
At the edge of the lake, close to woods, where he lives all day
He had seen the das at dusk as he watched them all
His duty as the lookout to warn them against harm's fall
Against the vas that sly thief, who comes in the night
When all sleep, even for the watchman death could be his plight
Some Of The Wildlife In The Netherlands
Edelhert:Red Deer
Das:Badger
Vas:Fox
Sponsor: Elly Wouterse
Contest: Your Ode To "My"Netherlands And/Or "My Friesland"
Written: April 22, 2014
Arthritis dictates much of what I do,
Relenting sometimes, though. Then I will be
Elated as I feel my strength renew,
Take walks pain-free and do, with energy,
Housework without completely wearing out.
Each week I see more wrinkles and gray hair.
Sometimes my mirror makes me want to shout~~
Enough complaints! At least, my head’s not bare.
My bathroom trips are more than in the past.
Young people, I know you don’t understand!
Glad my home’s small, so I can get there fast.
On outings, restrooms are in high demand.
Last year the doc increased my BP med.
Decaf might help, but caffeine’s such a good
Elixer. It clears cobwebs from my head.
NO caffeine makes folks eat more than they should!
***********************
Year’s end approaches. Thoughts of coming days
Excite me. More than ever, love of friends
And family sustains me. God, I praise.
Redeemed, I’m Heaven-bound when life here ends.
So, I conclude there’s GOLD in life’s late phase.
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth.
A viewpoint from childhood scene,
growing up at sixteen,Beech green.
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CANDLES&NIGHTLIGHTS
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth
Listen to me read this poem on youtube under name ichthyschiro