Long Salute Poems
Long Salute Poems. Below are the most popular long Salute by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Salute poems by poem length and keyword.
We commend you, beloved women*... grateful to God for your roles
Enabled as life-builders by His grace and love
Blessed to help shape grand future with His might
Privileged to lead toward enlightenment by His wisdom
Upheld to aid family needs thru His guidance!
We salute you, honourable Mrs./Miss ... deserving to receive
“Happy Women’s Day” tokens as Moms, sisters, teachers, friends
Midst family members with their satisfaction-approval
Of your community involvement causing development-ripple
In a crowd of men with jubilant mirth for your work well done!
We appreciate you, dear ladies: our mothers and lady mentors
Exemplars of genuine servant-leadership
Role-models beyond reproach by your fervent faith and testimony
Paragons of excellence in terms of sacrifice and contentment
Who walk your talk leaving a legacy, worthy of acknowledgment.
*Proverbs 31:30 “Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.”
February 16, 2019
2nd place, International Women's Day Poem for "March Poems...Part 3 of Easter Series" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire; judged on 2/19/2019.
Yesterday was Button Day;
I somehow let it slip
Or maybe I just chose instead
To button up my lip.
Begun in 1938,
This date was set aside
To celebrate the crafters
Who keep notions stores supplied.
For think about your buttons –
Not those round ones, white and plain
But the myriad varieties
That sewing sites contain.
There are endless shapes and colors
And materials as well,
Most with little holes for threading –
Look real close and you can tell.
Why, the perfect style of button
Can improve a garment’s looks
And as fasteners, they’re easier
Than zippers, snaps or hooks.
Just don’t push somebody’s buttons,
Even one who’s button cute
For on Button Day (or one day late)
We owe them a salute.
Writing in pitch-dark pitchy begin
Upon the stroke of silent pen
Touches my words across the night sky
Where me inner self meets a spirited lullaby
Silent space is a lonely place
Where altar sits in poet grace
Night sweats; pearls of sweet verse hone
As I cradle and nurture in golly forest home
An owl calls goodnight hoot
The vista of darky shadows across the woods salute
While scribbling lyrical in darkness peep
Poetic drift, rush past, looking deep
Writer man licked in night-time dew
Shedding sleep dust to the dusky view
To sound of rhymes, the scripter re-awaketh
The wellspring of motivation for the Midnight Poet
Do something nice when the weather is fine, skip and jump and hop about, raise your voice, throw your hands in the air and begin to shout; run to the top of the mountain and share the good tidings; turn to the east, the west, the north and the south and call out to the people hiding in the bushes inside the big boat to join you on top of the hill; tell them that the weather is fine and it’s time to roll the dice, you will compose a song on top of the hill and when the universe hears it, it will surrender to your will. It will be the song for the world to sing and each country will sing a piece of it, it must be soul searching and captivating and anyone that hears it will have to come out and salute it, they have to make instant peace and repent of their deeds. It will be the song of the ages that will pull people out of the dark and the world will onward march. When the weather is fine, I will tell you what is on my mind. I will take you back in time and show what is divine, I will show you how history unfold and what you can do when the mind is getting old, examine the basement gym and the thread mill in the corner and the boxing gloves hidden underneath the altar, they all have connections and tell the tales of the widow who was silenced and locked away in the convent. When the weather is fine open the curtains wide and put the old mattress outside, pull down the beds and shakeout the dust and bugs that are sucking the blood from your head. When the weather is fine, I will introduce you to my new bride, I will throw a party for everyone on the front lawn and I will bid everyone good by before the break of dawn. Do not look for me if you don’t see me; pray for me as I scale the hills and valleys in search of my destiny. When the weather is fine, we can complete the deal and rebrand the American steel. When the weather is fine we will raise our hands to the sky and bid the pain and suffering goodbye.
O Ye what are you waiting for?
Fly on the wings of hope,
This sky is waiting for you
The shadow is fed up of staying
Fly on fly on until you reach your goals
Obstacles are milestones to cross
Determination is a shield of dreams
Make courage your ally
Go past the mountains and valleys
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Start may look awkward
Initial hiccups will be pickups
You will master the art of killer instincts
Worries will evaporate with distinct
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Nothing is too big or small
Destination is giving you the call
If you fall then rise up again
Show your back to the walls
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Time is waiting to salute you
History is waiting to write for you
Books are waiting to catch your story
Your name will find place in the golden glory
You will be immortalized in everyone’s memory
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Inspiration : Our eminent poet, Krish Radhakrishnan who is also a doctor handling corona patients. Once he commented that I feel guilty when they give me leave. Another time he commented that some days we are so exhausted that we have no heart to do anything. If everyone followed rules corona cannot spread. This would give health workers much needed respite.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As you go out without worry
Without precaution, not wearing a mask...
think of the doctors out there
working hard and day and night
trying to save every life
It is not easy for them!
Frightened faces all around
so many deaths in front of them
just think of their state of mind
Covered by PPE, sweating inside
mask on face, not easy to breathe
full day handling patients with patience
life is most tough for them
Still they are doing it for us!
we are duty bound to take precautions
Please think about them before you go out
Or do any social function
Just because they are good we should not take advantage
suppose they become irresponsible
say we are tired we are going on leave
Just imagine your plight
A big salute to their sincerity and dedication
working under extreme conditions still they smile to their patients
talk with hope and faith
this has been going on for months
still they continue to serve
Being a doctor is not easy
Wear PPE for 1 hour and see
Wear mask at home for 1 hour and see
Serve a corona patient without thinking of self and family
They are doing so much
how are we ever going to repay them?
By doing our best to avoid getting corona we can help big way
If all take care, how will corona spread?
Doctors are God to me
Being a doctor is not easy
Since your passing, each day this week
TV shares more of your insights;
Tears now welling more fond with peeks,
Facts of these shores that shed more light.
The small screen shares your resolve well;
Watch tributes come from far and wide;
Viewed steadfast care your concerns dwelt;
Your lifetime sums a vivid ride.
Here as you leave our mortal shores,
Know that neither time nor tide can
Forget your gifts that leave us more
To go whither to brave all trends.
We wait by choice in drenching rain
To salute your passing cortège;
A fond last voice in random strains
To forge the hour's sad final dash.
Only we know a great soul can
Inspire a feat such fervent shouts;
Even this shows in death you can
Move and transfix crowds to come out.
We remember your days with us:
To work and weave a way of life,
With sure wonder and curious thirst,
As fond belief sustains brave strife.
So go in peace with heart at rest
For we will be a people bold
To build increase in valiant quest
For all will see grandeur unfold.
Ten eulogies speak well and good;
Your funeral in public light;
Highlights now peak to paint the mood;
Sadness feels real in this hushed sight.
We hear the strains of bugle sounds;
The time has come for the last post;
Hearts feel deep pain as loss fills grounds;
Sad music sums the final close.
Two floral wreaths for public view
Front your casket for all to see;
Then final trip for kin and dues,
A last pocket for pyre set free.
Leon Enriquez
29 March 2015
Singapore
Welcome to my mind, it's a place you will seldom see
You have to be in my peripheral to see the inside of me
For if you are ever welcomed to enter through it's door
You will be forever invited to grace your futures floor
The iconic of mans past will resonate all around
Shaped buildings like Easter Island, in our cities will so abound
Squared skyscrapers of our modern times, will disappear from our view
Statues of man in salute, below purpled skies so true
The skylines you see today, so institutional of their time
It's a place you will seldom see, unless your welcomed into my mind
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/ed-unitsky.php
They claim it legitimate
They claim it fact
But the tide has turned
There’ll be no turning back
The lines of life die under bitter, sharp dust
For here and now the do is must
The time we had sleeps in deep fond memory
The sunshine on grass, on mountain, on river,
on tree.
Clear now is not guidance from the fading light.
Through squinting eyes we must never lose sight.
Sacrifice echoes through the mists of time.
Their deeds of honour we remember and we salute
with pride
But the seeds they did sow are now abandoned,
now ash under darker skies
How can we stand in the presence of ghosts who
for our democracy died?
Will we ever see the horizon glow in the colours of
peace when human hearts overthrow for selfish needs?
Do we sit or stand on the frozen ground?
Do we laugh or cry for dreams lost in the shifting sands?
Do we eat and drink ignoring history scream in the
breaking winds?
Do we record this chapter of where cold forces broke
through our walls?
Do we write to history our memory, our justification,
our reasoning for standing in fear and watching
democracy fall?
There are those who stand, those who,
when the screams of their brethren ring in their ears,
will never submit, never falter, remain forever true –
for their country, they fight through their pain and their fears.
These champions, these guardians of our lives
cast their fates in the fray;
leave behind their husbands and wives
to serve their fellow man, keep danger at bay.
I can't imagine what it's like to kill others,
and yet they do what they must, taking that eternally final shot;
to defend those next to them, in burden their brothers –
their sacrifice cannot be for naught.
They suffer through every last circle of hell,
physical, emotional, spiritual, mental;
again and again, another's hopes, dreams, and life they quell –
the ravaging effects on their soul anything but gentle.
To these, I say, when your friends fall,
when their fight is finally over, their duty done,
we will recognize that they answered the call –
let them be in peace, at last lay down their gun.
We will sound the bugle over them, give our best salute,
and watch over them always, as is their due;
and when you likewise are finished, in need of tribute,
Taps will forever play over your final post too.