Long Retire Poems
Long Retire Poems. Below are the most popular long Retire by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Retire poems by poem length and keyword.
My father and his father were Farmers. It wasn't told to me,
but I suspect that my Great Grandfather was also a Farmer.
My wife's father was also a hard-working and successful Farmer.
However, in my family line, farming ended with my father.
From my second-story window, it's a beautiful sight.
Presently, having chosen to retire in the rural, I am
surrounded on three sides by fields of corn, and on the
fourth side, beans greet me every day with a smile.
I don't see a Farmer, but his workmanship is on display.
I can't imagine a Farmer who doesn't know how to pray.
When his work is done, whether by choice or otherwise,
he must wait and trust his God for rain lest there be pain.
It's now late June, and in this Dixie Delta Region, there have
been very generous out-pours of rain that have treated the plants
and soil. Corn stalks, embraced with soft grains of corn, cover each
cob of corn. Golden, yellowish tassels grace the tops of corn stalks,
and the farmers are happy as they wait for the corn to harden.
Sometime in August when the corn has finally hardened, it will be
time for the harvest. One would assume that harvest is the final
test for the Farmer. In these parts, the Farmers are also dependent
upon the river. In the harvest season, it is good to be dry but not
for long. The river's depth must be adequate for the cargo ships
to float. If the rains are not just right, the Farmer must wait and pray.
063023PS
Now, as I retire after 50 years and look back on my life amid the well wishes from friends and the realization that this old body can no longer handle what my brain still yearns of me, I have no regrets for I have won this race. I have won because my adventure bucket list decanted from a fast pace to a slower pace of painting, writing, hunting, and fishing, taking the place of horses and playing cowboy leaving only the motorcycle to soothe the rush. My focus has drawn more to Jesus and sharing with others his abundant grace and love. He really is the Prince of Peace. It is the peace of knowing that the God, who encompasses all the universe, knows me by name, hears my prayers though a sea of humanity is issuing prayers also. He sent the Christ to shed his blood for me and the Holy Spirit to live in me, though I’ve battled him to go my own way. His name is written on creation, is seen in the stars and his image lives in mankind and nature on this earth. He is the first and the last, he is the Alpha and Omega he is the Godhead which is mentioned three times in the Bible and verifies John 5:7 “For there is three that bear witness in heaven, The Father, the Word, and the Holy Spirit and these three are one. and there are three that bear witness on earth, the Spirit, and the water and the blood.”
Jesus told Peter that He would send a comforter [ the Holy Spirit.] to them. Only God could do that.
It was Yahweh, though I fail him, that let me survive those stumbling steps of my life. It is Christ that
Is truth in his glory and atonement, through his blood, he is the perfect lamb of God.
Romans 1:21 Because that when they knew God, [ Jesus] they knew him not as God, they glorified him not as God; but became vain in their imaginations and their hearts were darkened. Romans 1:22. professing themselves to be wise they became fools.” This reminds me of what we see now in America.
John17:4 I have glorified thee on earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do.
John 17:5 And now, O father, glorify me with thine own self with the glory which I had with thee
before the world was. [A witness to the Deity of Jesus.]
Do not take my word for any scripture I defend, judge for yourself.
When winter comes it brings a special charm
With holidays and decorated trees
With guests and firesides to keep us warm
Despite the icy chill of winter's freeze
That torments us with plummeting degrees
And snow to depths that's well above our knees
But silver frosting’s on the window pane
The sentimental smells of cider’s spice
With laughter and the joy are shared again
And all the world’s a cheerful paradise
(With gifts beneath the tree just to entice
The children to be mannerly and nice)
Then turkey’s gone, the cakes and pies devoured
This day is done, the children all worn out
The pots and pans and dishes all are scoured
The guests must go though no one’s gone without
And from the drive a last farewell they’ll shout
Then soon to bed they’ll all retire, no doubt
And while we both agree it’s been worthwhile
We’ve nothing left to share … except a smile
December 3, 2018 Winter Wonderland Poetry Contest "Urban Sonnet" Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
THANKING GOD REMEMBERING SENATOR BOB GRAHAM AFTER MY I BECAME DISABLED AT WORK FOR THE DEFENSE DEPARTMENT MACDILL AIRFORCE BASE I SPENT MY CAREER SERVING WORKING ON BASE I ALSO WORKED FOR THE BASE EXCHANGE BUT I RETIRED WITH A DISABILITY FOR THE DEFENSE DEPARTMENT MANY MILITARY WIVES WORKED FOR THE BX MY CALLING WAS FOR THE DEFENSE DEPARTMENT SO I LEFT THE BX AND CONTINUED MY EMPLOYMENT ON BASE FOR THE DEFENSE DEPARTMENT WHERE I HAD HANDS ON WITH RETIREES AND MILITARY FAMILIES I WAS SO HAPPY SO BLESSED UNTIL THEE ULTIMATE INJURY RESULTED IN A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN SENATOR BOB GRAHAM EEOC AND THE SUPREME COURT MERIT BOARD ALL ASSISTING ME BUT IT WAS BOB GRAHAM WHO FAUGHT FOR ME AS A DISABLED MOTHER OF 8HE WAS TRULY A GOD SEND I NEVER FORGOT SOME PEOPLE ARE CONFUSED THE BX IS A TOTALLY DIFFERENT SECTOR ON BASE IT HAD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH MY RETIRMENT I WASN'T WORKING FOR THE BX WHEN I WAS INJURY THESE RUMORS ARE FROM PETER GARGANO SENDING MEXICAN CARTEL TO RIP PAGES IN MY DIARY HACKING INTO MY DISABILITY MY SOCIAL SECURITY DISABILITY ATTEMPTING TO PERPUTRTATE FRAUD UPON.ME SENATOR BOB GRAHAM WAS RIGHT THEM LIKE I WAS HIS OWN DAUGHTER ALTHOUGH I ADORE THE BX BUT I DIDN'T RETIRE FROM THE BX I RETIRED FROM THE DEFENSE DEPARTMENT IT IS SAD THAT THE GARGANO FAMILY TRIED TO MARKET MY EMPLOYMENT MY DISABILITY MY PPETRY MY HUSBAND PURPLE HEART HONOR MY GRANDDAUGHTER HIGH HONORS A CENTRAL AEROSPACE ACADEMY WHERE MY HUSBAND AND AND HELPED ON THE SUN N FUN PROJECT HATRED ENVY RAGE FROM GARGANO AND HIS JHORES OF JAMAICA ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS PERPUTRATING FRAUD UPON ME AND MY FAMILY
GOD BLESS AMERICA HE CARED ABOUT THE AMERICAN PEOPLE
Snapdragons (edit)
One is a serpent on the wing, the other a butterfly.
Each belongs to species created from
tissue paper, water, and light.
When half-awake I can hear the droning
of their nocturnal flights,
amber engines rattle cut-glass hangers
as they lift off to carpet bomb our dreams.
Some are more wolf than dragon,
they form packs of loup-garou,
and snap at the heavy-handed
and too fleshy fingered florists.
Those not employed in directing
disbelievers toward dragon lore
retire to flower as urban myths,
their chiffon wings and origami faces
masking many a peppery passion.
We are not kept in this world to be test run,
Discarded and thrown away if considered unfit,
We are not experimental beings
kept in a controlled facility,
Taken out of the system due
to inherent unwanted flaws,
We are not puppets pulled by strings,
Dancing and acting to the dictates of their master,
We are not hopeless beings kept in a troubled world,
Though there are so many things beyond our view,
There are so many things kept in the dark,
He has not left us all by ourselves,
He has not made and abandoned us,
Fed up and wearied by our pitfalls,
He walks with us still,
He may not be visibly seen,
Our day to day activities
attest to His preeminence,
He shuffles our day for us if invited,
We retire to bed and switch off,
Helpless and out of control,
We sojourn in an unconceived world,
He calls us back when the time is due,
We don’t know why troubles
are an integral part of human existence,
We accept this with equanimity of mind,
We don’t understand why life is a battlefield,
With varying degrees of intensity,
We hold on believing an end will soon come,
Even though it might seem an endless road,
It's a true saying that
He can't allow on us more than we can bear,
Though we might seem crushed by its weight,
We still see ourselves going through each day,
Living each day as it unwraps itself to us,
We don’t know why some
questions are unanswered,
We don’t know
why some mysteries can’t be unravelled,
We see hope mirrored in His word.
February 25, 2022
Inspirational Christian Poetry Contest
Regina McIntosh
Is Nature adding to me
or taking away from me
Am I, or am I just
a small part, a tiny part
of all the beauty that I see.
All is so magnificent
The fresh air that I breathe
And I find myself thinking quite often
Will there ever be a day...any days
Much lovelier than these?
When I rose to greet this sunrise
Traveled through its heavy morning mist
I found myself thinking
Will there ever be a day...any days
Much lovelier than these?
I have explored both woods and valleys
I have sang the songs of the woodland birds
I have seen my mottled reflection
In the waterways of my small piece of earth.
I have followed the red of a woodpecker
until I could follow it no more
A farmer's fence blocked my passage
I had reached the edge of my tiny universe.
I have found myself in silence
Contemplating the greens of forest floors
And I remember asking myself in rhythm
Will there ever be a day...any days
Much lovelier than these?
After sixteen hours in the forest
The daylight starts to fade
The golden hour quickly approaches
The sun's bed will soon be made.
Lunar hours come sliding in
And with them my heart's desire
To have many more days like this one
To have many more days like these.
And if I don't ever see a day,
a day like this again
I know that my life has been so blessed
by the day that just has been.
This day will be remembered in my future years
This day that just has been
Whose fullness filled its minutes
Whose hours will never be forgotten.
Its been made fuller by its minutes
By its minutes that just have been
Whose hours won't ever be forgotten
If I would, it would be a sin.
And so as I go home to retire
To sleep and get my rest
I find myself thinking about the day
The day that just has been...
And then as I drift off to another place
I ask myself just one more time...
Will there ever be a day...any days
Much lovelier than these?
(January 22, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
PILLOW TALK ABUSE (collaboration)
by~ Andrea Dietrich
Again you’re droning on and on and on.
Yada, yada, yada, yada, yada.
My time for beauty sleep will soon be gone.
Why can’t you close your eyes? You know you oughta.
Just press those lips together tight and zip!
My lids are getting heavy as you talk.
So now I offer you this little tip.
Why don’t you go outside and take a walk?
The clear night air might open up your mind
before you kill the bush you’re beating round.
You’re killing ME; I hate to be unkind,
but when I start to doze, I hear that sound . . .
Yakety, yakety, yakety, yakety, yak. . .
Please shut your trap. We’ve long since hit the sack!
by~ Poet Destroyer
Congratulations for thinking your work is done.
You may be tired but you’re not the only one.
I sure hope you like spending your time all alone
All the young ones are grown and away from home.
So, I have no choice to yap yap yap' when you're around.
But, I do this to annoy, before my other annoying snoring sound.
Ever since I remember the beauty line is to late.
Don't forget my yapping mouth is what brings dinner to your plate?
But think of the funny way you want me to zip my lips tight.
My yakety yak is what gets me going through the night.
Retire your eyes else where, if you can't hear me out!
Wouldn't you rather me beat the bush, than to hear me shout.
Your ungrateful ways are like a sleeping pill.
Talking to you is like talking to a wall~ " oh! What a thrill!"
Maybe if you say a word or two, your mouth would put me to sleep
So my dear, talking to you is better than counting sheep.
Hope PD won't mind me showing me this one again!
I believed politicians were elected to protect our Constitution
But I was wrong.
I believed we welcome all immigrants
But I was wrong.
I believed our Presidents were elected to protect all our citizens
But I was wrong.
I believed when we work hard all our lives we would retire with dignity
But I was wrong.
I believed our country was the envy of the world.
But I was wrong.
I believed our soldiers would be rewarded and treaded like heroes
But I was wrong.
I believed our military was to protect us against outside aggression
But I was wrong.
I believed the military would never hurt our citizens
But I was wrong.
I believed we would never elect a criminal President
But I was wrong.
I don’t know what to tell my children about our
beloved country.
How beautiful is sky of setting dusk!
Why then the setting old age seems to tire?
Eve inspires to conclude unfinished dreams,
If so, why should the setting old age tire?
The setting sun inspires the search of self,
If only setting old age should not tire.
Gone dusk and dark night, there’s the light of dawn!
And still, why setting old age seems to tire?
From lifelong journey dawns dawn of wisdom,
Why still, the setting age should so much tire?
Joy and grief, two eternal truths of life!
Leave both aside and live and still retire.
Let flesh feel fatigued, never let your mind,
And tell me if the setting age still tires.
________________________________________
Musings | 05.09.2022 | Couplets
Poet’s note: You are as old as you think. Age is only a number… and with so many such homilies people try to soothe the old and aged. And still, one does feel old even after being careful nourishing body with good food, keeping it agile with exercises and games. And yet, perhaps the old fail to do enough for the mind.