Long Philosophyold Poems
Long Philosophyold Poems. Below are the most popular long Philosophyold by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Philosophyold poems by poem length and keyword.
Towering sycamores shaded the court house on the old town square,
And as usual on summer afternoons, hangers-on were gathered there.
I joined them and sat on a bench with a grizzled old man,
Wearing bib-overalls, John Deere cap, and a leathery tan.
"Son, let me tell you a few things I've learned about livin'.
Firstly, you ain't gonna git far if you ain't carin' an' forgivin'.
An' you ain't gonna weather th' storms uv this turbulent life,
'Less you have a lovin', carin', an' forgivin' wife."
"But this wife things works both ways, you understand.
Treasure her, tell her you love her, an' always offer yer hand.
Instruct yer kids an' grandkids in th' ways of th' Lord,
An' jes' 'cause ever'body does it, steer 'em away frum that horde!"
"I've labored long an' hard for whut little I've got,
Farmin' on a shoe string on a hunderd-acre plot,
Sufferin' hail, flood, th' blight an' many a killin' drought,
But I ain't never asked th' guv'ment fer no free hand-out!"
"My wife an' me skimped an' saved an' put two kids through college.
I fought in th' Great War, an' that'll sure increase yer knowledge!
Even though I've had my share of tribulations durin' my life's long span,
I thank th' good Lord ever' day, for I'm truly a very blessed man!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
The scents I remember like hand rolled cigars
Wine cask lined cellars in musty cool basements
Chocolate miniatures nestled in bright candy dishes
Tea leaves and mint steeping in dainty china cups.
Baked goods cooling on the kitchen counter
Roast with potatoes in a rich onion broth
Lilacs and roses lined on back yard fences
Channel #5 clings to grandmother’s sweater
Scents I remember from childhood spent
Fondly reminiscing with a wistful smile
In this sterile world I live in now
What will my grandchildren remember?
No leaves burnt on a cold autumn night
No carcinogens cooked over red hot coals
No second hand smoke that will cling to your clothes
No hairspray, no tea roses, no creams or colognes
No Sundays exploring my old Aunt Ruth’s farm
No chickens or guineas; no old dusty barns
No fresh moved hay or cinnamon apple pies
Just germicide, purified, Ionic fresh air.
Everyone called him Great
The Kind soaked with pride
He blew his own trumpet
Was he the God’s own child!
His subjects lived in misery
He did not bother for their plight
‘Can’t drink water, drink wine’
He shunted misery out of sight
Darkness never mattered for him
Beautiful women lighted his nights
No opponents to challenge him
He took delight at his might
‘Who is the wisest of you all?’
He made the wise men fight
Rewarded the chosen ones
The rest fled out of sight
The king strode over a desert once
The Sandstorms put him in a bind
Thirst overcomes him, no water at sight
His soldiers flee, left him behind
No drop of water around
The king went wild
Like an oasis, he saw a lone old man
Walking afar, nothing to hide
The Kind appealed to show the way
Promised to give back anything in kind
The old man asked for his kingdom
The angry King made him blind
The old man laughed at him
Ego made the King blind
Rains lashed over his dead body
The soul was back in humankind