Long Sweet sixteen Poems
Long Sweet sixteen Poems. Below are the most popular long Sweet sixteen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sweet sixteen poems by poem length and keyword.
My Bonnie lass is sixteen now
Her birthday is today.
And for a husky that is old
I’ve heard our young vet say.
My dear old dog, we love her so
And glad that she’s still here.
Her routine every day is set
She’s trained us well each year.
A pup who loved to go for walks
I’d let her off the lead.
She’d run about, and proved to be
An independent breed.
We’ve watched her grow, she has great style
A husky through and through.
She loves to have our company
We spoil her, that is true.
A better friend could never have
Such joy to us she brings.
Although she’s old, still has her life
That pulls on our heart’s strings.
The years have flown, her time is near
No longer can she play.
But now she’s turned sweet sixteen,
“Bonnie Happy Birthday”.
MIRROR MIRROR
Mirror, mirror, what do you see?
Yes you, fine lady looking back at me,
So, you're not the young woman
in the magazine,
Losing sight of her true reflection
on a beautiful scene.
You’re the best authentication,
of the image of new,
Makeup should not be a plaster
making you other than you.
Close the book and take a look
at what doesn't demean.
Picture perfect isn’t perfect
showing whats not meant to be seen.
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
It's not easy being green,
Being jealous of someone else,
If you know what I mean.
The other side is always
appearing a shade more green,
You are meant to truly discover,
the you you haven't yet seen.
Step aside, mirror mirror,
give it all a rest,
Put the fine lady to a reality test,
Sweet sixteen ain't twenty twenty nine,
And 29 ain't 40,
Look your best in your dress,
whether formal or sporty.
Mirror, mirror,
now reflecting a fading rose,
Love the story more than loving
how the story goes.
There's beauty in every stage
of the human's life.
If you're a husband reading this poem,
Please encourage your wife.
Your smiling face
lit up a room
Your charm
won a thousand hearts
At sweet sixteen
Naive and shy
With tresses of auburn hair
A penchant for my locks of red
They turned your head
You stole my heart
As two we made a life
When I became your wife
With ups and downs
We always knew
Whatever we faced
We faced as two
We were blessed with a beautiful son
He was our only one
So many happy memories
To treasure ~ and I do
But life without you darling
can be lonely
makes me sad
Then I recall the words you spoke
as we sat reminiscing
Declaring such deep love for me
Much deeper than before
Now I recall your loving words
To me they mean so much
Your words of love are feeling
almost like a gentle touch
Today’s the anniversary
when you left your love behind
eleven years now passed
yet, in my heart you’re still alive
your deepest love ~ helps me survive
27th December 2019
For my soulmate 1944 - 2008 on the 27th December
Contest Strand Select 7
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st Place
Moonstruck Josette
There's a sad tale told of moonstruck Josette
Who's love turned into ashes of regret
She found romance when only sweet sixteen
With the most handsome man she'd ever seen.
Though he treated her unkindly at times
Josette overlooked those menacing signs
She adored him despite his cruel trait
Then came the day he decided her fate.
He took her to a wood where no one goes
Josette felt he was well nigh to propose
He said to close her eyes and count to ten
Poor Josette never opened them again.
Down in the woods lies a silent Josette
Her demise so tragic one can't forget.
*+*
13th November 2022
William (Billy) Avery mailman extraordinaire for ten years
His beautiful loving wife, Irene, Loved beyond this World
I remember the day Billy was skipping down the sidewalks
Hey Billy ,what’s up You seem exuberantly Happy today
After ten years Irene is no longer barren, I’m going to be a father
It’s a Girl ,a gift from heaven , a Princess, a heavenly Angel
This is my daughter, my existence, my future Angel Maria Avery
The whole town watched the proudest Papa carrying his Angel
Door to door ; Here’s your mail this is my daughter Angel Maria
The years went on : Angel an Angel growing in Daddy’s heart
Sweet sixteen, Learner’s Permit in hand “Daddy can I drive?”
How could he say no ; To the Supermarket and right back home
Check your mirrors, adjust your seat , Seatbelt; and let’s go slowly
How am I doing Daddy, suddenly a thud, Daddy I hit a dog, panic
She hit’s the gas instead of the brakes: the oak tree didn’t move
Billy woke up ;something warm running in his eyes; ANGEL
She lay there covered in blood, Her cell phone; 981 Damn
My fingers are to big for these tiny numbers 911 Dispatch
What is Your emergency, My daughter and I have been in an accident
Is she conscious, No: Is she breathing :I don’t know I can’t move my legs
The Ambulance is on the way. ANGEL, ANGEL, A N G E L!!
Inspired by Gareth James Contest "Leave Me Hanging"
A girl's first date; she's sixteen.
The older boy is a prize.
He flutters hearts with green eyes -
so suave and worldly-wise
The young Adonis picks up
Sweet Sixteen; he has a plan -
they go to the county fair.
Thrills are guaranteed!
After a few scary rides,
She trembles with excitement.
Soon in the chill of the night,
he will make his move.
When atop the ferris wheel,
he wraps one arm around her.
As she snuggles into him,
her heart is racing.
For a moment the wheel stops,
and their lips meet in a kiss.
Oh, the thrill of youth's passion!
Nothing else compares.
Written Dec. 8, 2015
Sunsphere
Sunsphere, purple to orange,
yellow in the middle,
setting at the rear.
Behind the wheel, gripping the steel,
Apollo, anxious, scans for falling flowers
along the roadside.
My petal scent
permeates the Lumina —
maroon in colour,
interior tone matching.
It is his ride,
our style.
I will never leave, even if we wreck
at breakneck speed.
I’ve got the need;
he’s got the deed.
My own Jimmy Dean —
flashing red and green,
amber
and lean,
colours of the scene,
of the chase.
The urban heart paces
its own race to the climax,
where it might end,
where it might dissolve away
in a state of perfect pink bliss.
The body’s calibrated systems all lined up
for twenty seconds of elation.
I tune the station.
He smiles at the recognition.
This song carried us along —
all the pit stops, all the speed bumps.
It first played eons past:
sweet sixteen, neon skies blast
green wonder overhead.
He was not there; we had not met.
A song that touched the loneliness inside.
I realized I was not like everyone else;
I excommunicated myself.
And when I found him, I denied this song existed.
It reminded me of that time before my heart enlisted
in the endless dream.
I pretended I had never experienced sadness.
I was in pure spirit —
not doctored by my own health
or chemistry.
I was strong,
untouched by the dirty empires.
But it was false.
I had already fallen in the mud.
Music was the rope
holding me close.
No one offered their arms,
no one offered their charms
to save me from dismay.
I clung to whole notes
and registers —
treble and bass.
I only had theory to seal my edges.
I was not restrained, not in feeling
nor in the larynx.
I was fixated on expression,
the lexicon of my wounded soul.
He smiles at the remembrance
as the song plays again —
not because the lyrics are happy
or because it calls back pleasant polaroids.
We are still here,
cohabiting the vessel of our escapade,
together,
rolling through the hills of sonic recollection.
And here, in the passenger seat of an old Chevy,
I can finally name my sorrow
I can let the tears rise
if they wanted to break the levy of my eyes —
forest-coloured iris —
if I had reason to cry
Born in nineteen forty four
We met when I was sweet sixteen
We found true love forevermore
My precious love ~ my soulmate
Spending our whole life together
With precious son ~ our only one
Then creeping like inclement weather
The Big C came it knew your name
You were so strong you were so brave
You fought just like a warrior
But in the end the evil stayed
It drained you and it claimed you
When on that day you went away
December two thousand and eight
My heart it almost broke in two
Life alone ~ no life without you
Born today St Patrick's Day
You will be seventy seven
And I am sure behind that door
They’ll be partying in heaven
I raise a glass of your favourite red
Chateauneuf du Pape
Thank you for your endless love
My darling
My soulmate
My sweetest chap
Written 17th March 2021
Happy Birthday to my dear husband Frank who left this world too soon...
Contest All Yours (Mar 17)
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Contest Name A Poem to your spouse on his-her birthday.
Sponsor Funom Makama
I noticed just yesterday
while glowering about something else
now already
once again
forgotten...
I seem to have lost my good-sensed humor
along my stumbling
isolating internal say
Toward this red STOP! sign
searching for a different way
To find a new Earth center
for healing active hope,
To sing new scales of joyful
sad sharp focus
Performed more locally
and possibly reformed less reflectively
mesmerized by fame's monopolistic grope.
This new reselective time
Less silently reserved
Less anxiously depressed
Less repressively suppressed.
Each morning's dawn warning
to worship at new altars
Renewing robust octaves of communion
encompassing organic green nutrition
To redesign all creatures here below
more positive above
good-humored love
with timeless passions
hilariously sensed together
yet tragically shoved
apart.
If I were not so sweet sixteen
prepared to restart home's immigration scene
again for my first time,
what would I rechoose to do
becoming compassion's singing rally
with rainbow hearted allies?
If I were thirty-three,
my age of messianic crossfire
for all to red angry
horrifying see,
what would I choose to resurrect again?
And why would this revoiced
rechoiced healthier community
support potentiating integrity
with more robust good humor
this well-timed passed over
and back around
on sacred wellbeing
more interfaith
as multiculturally safe
and healthy ground?
If I were twice
my god's reflective age
revived,
what would we joyously choose
to re-member
as half-life good golden sense
for revolving salvation's climate humor?
For this tragic comedy
of tumorous migration
anxiously anticipating
integrity's full ZeroScores
restoring just right species
may not be mine
next time back around
multiculturing herstory
All together one predation
praying for exterior relations
more integral summations
than humorless,
silent rumorless
quiet aging absence
of eternal sad-paced
barely surviving mercy
At least sufficient for noticing,
just yesteryear
while glowering about something else
now already strange sadly *****
once again forgotten.
Walking through the door of my childhood home
brought back tsunami of wisdom overture.
Tastes and colours in décor change with culture;
varied pallet of history in lands roam’.
My children had turned out to be a challenge
as they had early on displayed my talent
for examining and questioning latent
defects papered over; now seeking balance.
We’d a small, intimate wedding reception.
The wallpaper in the lounge is instantly
recognisable (like kin related distantly),
from the photos. No inkling of deception.
My parents had asked this sweet sixteen to voice
her preference for bedroom to replace staid
pattern reminiscent of a fabric plaid.
But they had vetoed black and white Op Art choice.
The celebrations of the many milestones,
spanning the blessed years of three generations
firmly recorded in the decorations;
layers of peeling wallpaper to bare bones.