Long Safety Poems
Long Safety Poems. Below are the most popular long Safety by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Safety poems by poem length and keyword.
They marched along courage-dominion
Heralded as heroes, defying cowardice opinion
Soldiers of the country midst freedom companion
Deserving "Super Warrior" medallion.
They fought along peace-advocacy platform
Striving, in the name of safety, for miracle reform
Obeying lawfully with “Keep Calm and Carry On” to conform
In fulfilling their protective guardianship roles, they did perform.
We salute them for their diligent, determined, dedicated might
As stalwarts in their duty to country first against personal plight
Always ready in their offensive attacking flight
Defending fellowmen with allegiance-light.
We honor them for their great legacy of vibrant glow
Leaving us liberated from conquerors' woe
Now, we are enjoying their sacrifices with serenity flow
Marked by gracious hope for every tomorrow.
Remembering their valor midst memorial history
We thank them, grateful to God* for His enabling victory
Now, we can retell their valuable story
Fortunate that we are now basking in their hard-earned glory.
*1 Corinthians 15:57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
May 17, 2025
2nd place, "Memorial Day" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Oliver Mckeithan; judged on 5/19/2025
I cannot stop grieving this loss
A line of healing, I must cross
Nature has highlighted my life
Wildlife has fled and caused such strife
I never knew what it was like
Empty skies without birds, now strike
Squirrel are not around at all here
Walnuts untouched, I shed a tear
Silence, no songs, an empty yard
My friends are gone and I feel scarred
I can’t find the words to explain it
I’ve never seen such a thing hit
A toxic catastrophe now
Will be seen by all at some point
When repercussions are conjoint
Pardon me for having to write
To maintain courage in my plight
Everything goes way beyond me
I pray for all in tragedy
Grounding safety, peace to be found
On this earth let healing abound
Heidi Sands
2/23/23
Theme: Grief
8 Syllables
Placed 2nd in the Writing challenge – G Words Poetry Contest. Sponsor: Constance La France
The wounded sigh of a father,
Tells his concern for his child
Whose actions seem stupid and wild.
The wounded sigh of a teacher,
Reflects his worry for his pupil
His progress, if he can’t quadruple.
The wounded sigh of a wife,
Shows her anxiety for her better half
As she senses a threat for her marriage graph.
The wounded sigh of a doctor,
Denotes his apprehension for his sick person
Whose health does progressively worsen.
The wounded sigh of an emperor,
Is the sign of bother for the safety of his nation
As he sees his warriors’ gradual elimination.
The wounded sigh of an environmentalist,
Is the signal of his distress against pollution
And his search for the ways of its solution.
The wounded sigh of a peace lover,
Is the symbol of his hostility towards wars
As they destroy the lives of crores.
Take away the safety net
What remains
only the weak kill and call themselves men
A coward hides in the mountain of who they are
behind their own curse justifying wrongs
Tears falling each and every single day
suffering innocence weep
Self inflicted forged inside darkness
Mortal sin
The day will arrive
when you have to come out of your shell facing reality
Evil deeds done dirt cheap begging soul forgiveness
Blinding pure is the eyes of our Saviour
Salvation enslaved by guilt
poor is the heart where poison seeps
Rich forgiving pride the Lords prayer I say
Please God open their eyes to your peaceful presence
Make them aware of your goodness morally within
Open their souls to the truth
such deeds hold an ugly sin
Mercy on your damned soul
Such actions
destiny crumbles
inside their castle walls bleed burning with fire
Angry all their lives at everyone but themselves
Articles of faith strips them bare
I tip my eyes to the Lord
Blessing myself in the name of our Father the Holy trinity
Begging their forgiveness
One third of Man
blind faceless spill blood
cursing peace and His Holiness in the end days
Imagine a world if they made it first
Their want to dominate would continue to thirst
Heavy Water to be their goal
More innocent lives, more lost souls
The German want for Nuclear Arms
Brought them to, Telemark's charms
A county in scenic south Norway
If they achieve the world will pray
1942, at Vemork Power Station
Scientist boffins on the road to creation
Allied forces, intelligence heard
Sabotage on the tongue is the word
November 1942 Operation Freshman starts
The 1st British Airborne
From Wick, Scotland they part
Destination Møsvatn - frozen lake
Where hero's will land
For the worlds sake
But tragedy hits, the gliders crash land
Soldiers captured, now with German command
Gestapo interrogate these fathers and sons
On Hitlers Order
Machine gunned
Operation Swallow and Gunnerside
Norwegian and British commando pride
Take on this mission to destroy this plant
If they fail, they face German rant
Production impeded as they make their escape
To Ski to safety and dodge their drape
A decision is made to bomb the plant
143 B-17's, as many bombs grant
Many fail, to hit their mark
This Heavy Water terror in Telemark
Damage is little as the Germans act
Shipped back to Germany by boat and rail track
On February 20th 1944
The ferry ship SF Hydro is at the fore
Her laid-en cargo in railed tanks
By the grace of god, about to be sunk
Plastic explosive, alarm clocks
Ignite together as the Hydro rocks
As her Stern sinks, the tanks roll
Into the fjord, jeopardise German goal
All hero's they are to risk their lives
As this conflict of history
Is told from their eyes
To sabotage this plant and its Holy Water
And saved the world from Ultimate Slaughter
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
in faces lined like glaciers
sometimes there's loneliness
that cuts a tow line to safety
air of flux and hostility
over dazed eyes
turbulent modernity
sometimes we yearn for elegance
like a warm shoulder
its edge of acceptance
fitted with precision
yearn to heal a heart in straight jacket pain
to know motivation that punches above the weight
of a fragile frame
to relish the faith of a welcoming hand
to find a community
that bends the bar of one's cage into bracelets
shuffled like a deck of cards
lives seldom remain still
yearning to break an existence slurred by off color jokes
reaching for an unseeable light
a homeward wish
smothering woe
When the Shepherd Slept
There was a tired shepherd who fell asleep
With no one else who could tend to his sheep
The sheep were delighted, freedom in reach
Followed the leader and away they sneaked.
Frolicking sheep, each having fun galore
Walking for miles over fields, hills and moors
Then came the sunset and night became dim
Slowly they realised freedom was grim.
They grew hungry and went in search of food
But couldn't find forage and became subdued
It was difficult and the sheep couldn’t sleep
As they were pursued by some ghastly beasts.
So tired and weary they wished hopefully
To be back in the sheep fold of safety
They realised they need their shepherd's care
For love, food and shelter that's always there.
When the sheep had almost lost every hope
A familiar face came over the slopes
It was their shepherd and all ran with glee
Euphoric he’d shown eventually.
They vowed they'd never run away again
It wasn’t worth the havoc, sorrow or pain
Then the tired hungry sheep with baa baa bleats
Thanked God for shepherds who watch o'er their sheep.
*+*+*
24th February 2023
Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
If we get a few minutes of relief from open fire
To my bed of sand I'll retire
Bullets whizzing over our heads
Makes the safety of the sand bed not a dread
Needing a bath and fresh clean clothes
Well we won't get these today we suppose
Our comrade was killed by mortar fire today
We wept as dying in my arms he lay
Silence is golden so they say
But silence can be scary as hell, where we stay
But this is just one more day
Hoping we live to get away
To home
(Inspired by photos sent to me in an email from a friend. The photo showed soldiers
surrounded by army trucks, jeeps, and tanks in the middle they had dug out beds in the sand.
A Father Clock chimes from a wall in the dining room, refreshing the idle couple that waited.
It was not as if they were reminded of some pressing appointment or some devoted chores that was delegated.
The furniture in the room where they sat idle was ancient and concealed with cryptic scratches stimulating memories of a once lively lifestyle.
An arrowhead seat, brown and sagging occupied one corner of the room making an impression on the carpet conceding that it's been there a while.
In other parts of the room, the faded blue cut pile carpet flaunted gummy substances and foot tracks that were desperately in need of a broom.
Chopin's Nocturne, (seeking their memories of the days of wine and roses), smoothly flowed evenly from the highly varnished Philco console radio and turntable, graced the room.
He sat in a high wing chair opposite her steeped in an art and literature magazine.
Occasionally his deep brown eyes circle with a gray arc would give into a burning need to close and he would nod off, which was a daily routine.
In the highlights of his years, he was a successful entrepreneur, delightful, sophisticated, a celebrated man among his race.
That was more than two decades ago, and although he still hungers for those days he knew that he has grown miserably slow and not able to keep up in a modern-day virtual place.
She sat in her favorite chair that had conformed to her weight over the years.
In her lap was a start of a colorful throw, knitting needles, and shears.
Her honey color skin was slightly creased with tiny folds around her lips and neck.
The imagery of her once sleek body and beauty she deeply reflects.
Her curly snow-white hair rests on her curved shoulders.
She wished that she had not lived her entire life crippled to vanity.
Yet she would think that the fact is, that on the days and nights when love was a cold memory she was grateful for the memories that realistically were a safety net for her sanity,
They both were adrift on a calm sea of tedium.
Boredom breeds contempt and the closeness they once shared disappeared unobtrusively and conjointly with the years
All was left was the bitterness between them along with the tears.
copyright 2016 Looking At The Light At The Bottom of The Lake.
Pain rains down on us sometimes.
That rain goes on and on and on.
You may feel as if you’re on a boat
filling up with water. It might sink
in waters of despair.
But friends, there are people in this world-
people who truly want to help us.
They carry umbrellas of compassion
and with their buckets of aid,
they’ll bail you out of trouble
as much as they are able.
Such selfless people can be found
at shelters for the homeless or
at safe houses for victims of domestic abuse.
Some man hot-lines for suicidal people.
There are ministers of churches
who also want to offer their help.
Organizations exist in which
groups are formed according to
the particular trial faced by each group.
In these groups, people can hear stories
similar to their own, and share their own woes.
Talking sometimes is all people need.
Sometimes the winds of hopelessness
blow stronger than people can handle.
Before wind storms turn into tsunamis,
we should seek out those willing to offer
us a harbor of safety.
If friends or loved ones happen to be
unfortunately absent in your life,
seek shelter where you can.
Help is everywhere as long as there exist
people with compassion.