Long Pickard Poems
Long Pickard Poems. Below are the most popular long Pickard by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pickard poems by poem length and keyword.
Youth
When we were young, nothing worried us at all.
From spring through summer through winter and fall
We built forts from boxes some four feet high
We climbed trees like monkeys some went to the sky
We ate everything like mud cookies and chocolate swirls
Made fun of freckles on cute little girls
I was mean as a snake and happy you see
I didn't worry; big kids didn't bother me
I rode my bike for miles with my balloon muffler
Fell and chipped a tooth, but it made me tougher
One meal a day was plenty for me
A policeman, a fireman was what I would be
My brothers were taller my dad was too
They were giants, and I thought that was cool
As I grew older, more things began to shrink
As I grew older, I started to think
How nice being young and so carefree
Being that young then meant nothing to me
But now that I'm much older, I look back and see
I'm still young at heart a good ride for me
Copyright © William Pickard
Pills
We take them for energy and take them for sleep
Men take them for sex for things they can't keep
Some take them to calm their everyday lives
Some take them for sex and satisfy their wives
They make us feel up; they make us feel down
Some make us goofy we turn into clowns
Regardless of reasons, your pill for
If they make you feel better, you'll take even more
As we get older, the medicine cabinet grew
Pop a pill here, pop a pill there big bottles waiting for you
One for the daytime one for the night
One for your hearing, one for your sight
Wake up in the morning we pop a few
Our doctors tell us it's the right thing to do
Right after dinner, it's pill time again
Today I've counted this will be ten
Pills for pleasure, some medications for pain
Remedies for the weight you don't want to gain
How many tablets do you take a day
I can't remember I just won't say
Plastic bottles in cabinets on shelves and tables
My god, I don't think I'm stable
Please take these meds I want to be free
Just to be normal I want to be me.
Larry Pickard
Copyright © William Pickard
The Window
From her kitchen window, she stares through the glass
Remembering her love who has recently passed
Daydreams of times she would begin to tear
Love so strong throughout the years
The empty feeling way down inside
No longer around to stand by her side
It's hard to believe that he's suddenly gone
Not meaning to leave her here all alone
After 60 years married to a husband so dear
Loneliness is now a consuming fear
Moving through the house empty of laughter and love
Occasionally thinking of him above
No friends or family to call or to talk
Wheelchair-bound can barely walk
Loneliness and depression could fill the halls
Stained wallpaper pictures fallen from walls
This does happen in the world today
It's happening now, I unfortunately say
I've watched that stare from my neighbor's wife
Who's husband recently lost his fight for life
Military honors draped with the red, white, and blue
Hundreds of friends came to view
I've seen her stand for hours; it seems
Staring way off into the distance dreams
It's disheartening, a tearful shame
To look at her loneliness through a windowpane
Lpickard
Copyright © William Pickard |
Aging puppet
When I opened my eyes, I recall the weirdest dream
I was an aging puppet time breaking my strings
Years ago, I enjoyed a younger life
Now my strings are being cut by an age-old knife
Being young and healthy is our biggest prize
Five years ten years disappear in front of your eyes
Celebrate your youth in a healthy way
Your aging strings will wear thin someday
One string, two strings break, you lose your walk
More lines break you can barely talk
Five strings, six strings, your flat on the ground
Without the strings of speech, you utter no sound
Rows are wearing thin that made you strong
Before too much longer, your strings will be gone
The life we live will someday end
Strong strings through time will eventually thin
Some sell their souls for a new spool of strings
But it doesn't change what old age brings
The stringless puppet vanishes without making a sound
Strings break, he falls hard to the ground
He lays helpless, no movement at all
He's finally taking his life-ending fall.
Lpickard
Copyright © William Pickard
Childhood
As I close my eyes and drift back in time
The thoughts of being young come to mind
When I was four, people were as tall as trees
Looking ahead, all I saw was knuckles and knees
When I was five, my first baseball glove
Seven was holding hands with my very first love
Eight I can remember my close friends
Family gatherings with most of my kin
Ten I remember the girl of my dreams
Childhood pranks and boyhood schemes
Eleven I crashed my faithful Schwinn bike
At twelve, a black eye from my very first fight
When fifteen came around, timed passed way too slow
Sixteen, I had my license and was on the go
Seventeen came, and High School ended
Joined the military as I intended
Youth has passed, and now I'm much older
Blood is thin, and I feel much colder
But I enjoy the thoughts of my past childhood
Go back in a second if only I could
But realizing this, the thoughts bring a smile
From the time long ago when I was a child
If I wish to return to those childhood days
Only in mind to be stored away
Close your eyes and return back then
The closet of time holds within
A time you once had and will always be
Thoughts of youth are what you'll see.
Lpickard
Copyright © William Pickard
Poetry
Poetry comes from deep down within
Expressing your feelings from beginning to end
The smooth flow of words create a distinctive rhyme
Writing creative thoughts on a seamless line
You can write on paper thoughts locked in your head
Detailed reviews of what you have said
Poetry with motion poetry in the time
Random thoughts your hoping will rhyme
Poetry can make you laugh feel happy inside
Ink on paper a feeling of pride
Write on a blank sheet of paper and fill it with ink
Wanting opinions of what others may think
Is this poem good enough to read and to share
Will my witty rhymes take you there
Maybe you think now is the time
Before you forget an aging sign
Grabbing pen and paper, I begin to write
Begin in the morning and finish at night
Write down your feelings in horizontal lines
The end of each sentence should carry rhyme
Until the ball of the pen bleeds dark black ink
Continue to write of what you may think
Let your expressions flow with an open heart
Sometimes thinking where do I start
Then read each line read thoughts within
A good poem is written from beginning to end.
Copyright © William Pickard
First Love
I thought about my very first love last night
I dreamed I kissed and squeezed her so tight
On several occasions, she still comes to mind
The love she gave was so soft and kind
She still rents a place in my heart.
Though time and distance has kept us apart
I know when I think of her, it's a romantic sin
Then I realize I will never see her again
She was my first love, that burning love you see
The love she gave stole the boyhood from me
So many years later, she's still in my dreams
I can feel her touch so soft it seems
I can't forget her regardless of time
Out of nowhere, she still comes to mind
The last time we met was many years ago
It's a simple love, and I'm sure you know
It's a gut sinking feeling sometimes for sure
Your very first love, they say there's no cure
Like I said before, she still comes to mind
The girl who I kissed for the very first time.
Copyright © William Pickard
Friends forever.
One of my best friends died today
Left me before I had the chance to say
Exactly what I always wanted to express
My favorite friend one of my best
Friends from the beginning friends to the end
Best of friends so deep within
Friends are those you'll love to remember
Regardless of who regardless of gender
The people you've shared part of your life with
Never asking of much, always willing to give.
When's the last time you called a friend
Or are you just going to wait till the end
Their life will be gone before you know
Call them or find a simple way to show
Just how much they mean to you
A friend who's been your friend so true
Or sit there like there's no end
Until you lose another friend.
I find this very hard to say
One of my best friends died today.
Copyright © William Pickard |
Memories.
Memories are thoughts stored from the past
Many are lost; others seem to last
When you think of good times way back then
Just being alone or time with a friend
You think of your first love or your first kiss
There are indeed good times you've grown to miss.
The pounding heart or a childhood smile
Feelings you haven't felt in a while
Thinking of these times, you suddenly grin
Thoughts you've kept of the way back then
Your first bike or a brand new toy
Barbie's for girls GI Joe's for boys
Gathering of friends with no time to hurry
No schedules to keep..no time to worry
We've grown older, and friends have passed
We're still here and dream of the past
Daydreaming is fun when the thoughts make you smile
So sit back and relax, think back for a while
Thoughts from a long time ago and things from the past
Dreams of youth are disappearing fast
Enjoy your imagination and think so clear
Of time from days of yesteryear.
Lpickard
Copyright © William Pickard
There is a young man who loved the sea
He could read the stars and winds by age three
He loved to venture along the Alaska shores
Leaning the ocean at the age of four
He would read of the sea and mother natures storms
How quickly, from nowhere, the clouds could form
He was ready to go at an early age
But school would be the turning page
As a small boy, he had dreams of the sea
A captain of a ship was what he would be
School work and parents were the anchors on land
His thoughts were to be a sea sailing man
At night he would dream of being at sea
Salt water in his face, his thoughts were free
His sea shells were falling from his nightstand jar
Still wearing his pajamas, he didn't get far
But this little sailor will set sail someday
He's learning to be a captain along the way
Yes, one day, he'll have his boat
But for now, in the tub, the plastic ones float
He may be small, but ideas are big
When he sets sail one day, he will control the rig
Big white sails full of wet summer breeze
This grown-up man now holds the sea.
William L Pickard
Photo provided by Carolyn Muscle
The sailor is Wallace Johnson, her grandson.