Long Progenies Poems
Long Progenies Poems. Below are the most popular long Progenies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Progenies poems by poem length and keyword.
Summer speaks to me by waking me up early
Playing tunes of beautiful song bird melodies
Blowing cool breezes in early mornings
Creating chimes of rustling tree leaves
She speaks to me through marvels of elaborate spider webs
Through various trees’ dazzling green shades
Through fascinating designs on butterfly wings
Through flutters of humming birds and dances of dragonflies
She speaks to me by offering plums, peaches and numerous berries
And various melons, figs and delicious cherries
Growing scrumptious tomatoes in the garden for my luxury
Exhibiting vivacious blooms on rose bushes and crape myrtle trees
She speaks to me shining bright through brilliance of sunlight
Warming the afternoons and dehydrating grasses on hillsides
Crafting radiant sunsets and captivating afterglows of twilight skies
Generating buzzing mosquitoes in stillness of evenings’ dim lights
She speaks to me through an astonishing sight of a skunk mama and her adorable babies
Showing a watchful face of a raccoon sitting in an oak tree
Displaying an occasional slithering of a rattler or a snake native
Birthing numerous insects and active lizard progenies
Through magnificence of marvelous starry nights
Through frog croaks and cricket lullabies
Through precious waters of the lake
Summer speaks to me and I listen with gratitude in my heart……
Some children growing up in towns,
Wear sallow faces, sullen frowns.
Streetwise urchins, Jack the lads,
Reminiscent of their dads.
Guttersnipes roam nine to five,
Scrounging food banks to survive.
Toerags daily flout the rules,
Playing truant from rundown schools.
Destitutions plain to see,
With children trapped in poverty.
Urban dwellings, tumbldown,
In the poorest parts of town.
Suburban children lives are fine,
Where peevish youngsters often whine.
For pocket money, mobile phones,
Sadly lacking strong backbones.
Little lords and lady muck,
Born with silver spoons to suck.
Dolly daydreams, demand, designer dresses,
Constantly combing cioffured tresses.
Horrid Hooray Henries, haughty asses,
Pretend to be from upper classes.
Riding lessons, will, in due course,
See little madams gain their own horse.
Suburban life is plain to see,
Where children live in luxury.
Upmarket homes maintained with care,
The sweet smell of success, everywhere.
But the beating heart of any town,
Are children neither up nor down.
These children work hard to succeed,
While helping those who are in need.
Down to earth, no airs or graces,
Pleasant smiles upon their faces.
They live in solid stone abodes,
Down narrow streets and cobbled roads.
No leafy lanes for these progenies,
That are the blossoms on their family trees.
10/ 8/ 2019.
,
Life goes on past my lifetime.
Hard to believe...
Bereft!
I think I shall watch from heaven.
Better than a blockbuster movie —
the other side of nasty and nice.
Shall I turn toward those golden streets?
Greet each day at the Pearly Gates?
Or shall I look downwards to my progenies
to see the mess or mass celebration.
I hear the ecstasy of choiring cherubim.
I turn toward fruity trees releasing
color, shape and scent.
I take an unforbidden bite.
Each bite releases endorphins.
Doubting her meal will turn out right.
Burnt rice, too crispy chicken.
Oh...oh...she’s turned her face
in the right direction.
Correction of error.
Giving thanks to God Almighty.
Now I’m all ears —
she has my attention.
Does she feel my smile?
I’ll hug her for awhile.
6/12/2021
THE POSTERITY OF RUDOLPH
‘Twas the night before Christmas and the reindeers played tricks.
The twinkling eyes of the posterity of Rudolph in a riotous mix.
There was the mooning of Santa Claus, his britches on the North Pole.
The elvish-boots tied together and stuffed with chalky bits of coal.
Children’s toys were strewn about the snow, having been blown
by giant straws and how those cookie crumbles must have flown.
Those uproarious Rudolph’s progenies doubled over with ice cold tears.
Meanwhile Santa’s in a snit, not at all jolly nor filled with holiday cheer.
Red noses, beeping and blaring, poking out, jumping, scaring
on this Winter-white night when the sled should be ready and raring
to leap to each home, slide down chimneys or their substitute holes
and put smiles on cherubic faces but for naughty reindeer out of control!
11/26/2018
The Night Before Poetry Contest/Joseph May
Don't you remember the summer when we first woo each other, and, that same summer we made out?
We were so pure to the ways of life, my love, don't you remember?
Don't you remember my love, the day we laid hidden in a vast cornfield, hobnobbing with the true armyworms?
The smell of rotten flesh from the highway, a mile away was cruel to our nostrils, but soon became accustomed. Nothing could disperse our rhapsody.
Our bodies were on fire, as we scramble to remove our clothes. With great peremptory measures, we tried to swallow each other tongue. It was glorious .
I felt your hot hands all over me, and I traveled to the sun and back Our minds were one, and our bodies became one as we pleasure each other to the rhythmic, and repeated patterns of that of a gusty drum.
Let your mind, my love, travel back to the time when; we were still crazy in love through all the hard and treacherous times, and we sang not one sorrowful song. our love stood bravely against this ruinous world.
Squeeze my hand, dear love, if you remember how the divine sparks of our love created beautiful progenies to leave this musical legacy of our love.
Now that the light of the eve of our years are fading, the musical splendor of our love is everlasting, and ever sounding like Beethoven Moonlight Sonata
Sleep deep and soundless my love, in confident that the music of our love is so tender and eternal.
copyright under Labyrinth of Life
Yellow, red, blue, orange, magenta, purple, and green
are the colors of a perfect rainbow.
These hues flicker like a beautiful bow.
Yes, this is the valley of castles, riches and dreams.
Knights with shields and armor protect this terrain
No one may enter or leave the valley unknown.
Those who cross the river will be rightfully known.
The magic of the rainbow guards all who are not sane.
One day two children displeased the palaces folk
and went away from the land of rainbow
They trekked over the waters high and low,
both progenies searched for gold and playful foe.
When the cavaliers held the children on kingly property
they took them to the palace for penance.
It was a sorry moment for these two adolescents
there young remorseful grins granted them sympathy.
The country of colorful rainbows and circumstance
beckon all who enter with stories of treasures.
Those who leave have memories of great adventures,
But the power of the rainbow brightens only the prominence.
In Battery Point, two centuries stayed
Settlers’ cottage, compact, sandstone stoic
Paired attic windows see civility made
From grim past pioneering treachery awoke
Piston motion push n pull combustion
Cloudy tea cups cultivate cow cud, churn
Tangible treaties are carved, thrusting
Structure schools crops convened return
Stood in a line, life dictates we press
Our progenies - dominoes, foretell demise
Dots identify, dark remains nameless
Two sided story - twists a spritely surprise
Federation funds finds plenty plausible
Bundled under blankets, cash in chest reserve
Heritage heirloom has relic resourceful
Epic ends agony against environment of verve
18th April
Ate what our ancestors Sprinkled
Spring Sonnet
The microscopic lifeforms in my soil
Sense the rising in degrees Celsius.
Old Summer’s red wiggler worms now uncoil,
While hungry birds look down most odious.
Most showers now done, the weeds envelope
The surviving herbs, flowers, plus veggies.
Like the weeds, slimy molluscs interlope,
Quitting the shadows with their progenies.
Scooping composted chicken & steer
Into my orange Home Depot buckets;
Troweling in costly mineral grit -
Then turning the soils, crushing silt nuggets.
The difficult tasks done, seeds in the grounds –
October pumpkins will surround the mounds.