Long Tender age Poems

Long Tender age Poems. Below are the most popular long Tender age by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tender age poems by poem length and keyword.


Son of Sam Lady-Killer

I can only just imagine you and Sam

Whilst working close together on
the butchery counter at your local
supermarket

At the site of both of your 1st job's at 
the tender age of just 17

1 day somehow however whilst
putting out the ham on display

Locked eye's and figured out she's 
the 1 for me as he is the 1 for me

And then you became childhood 
sweetheart's for thee foreseeable 

As unfortunately and to your cost
you found out much later 

He was in fact sadly a real lady-killer
in reality not merely just actually playing
the role of 1 as an act

Until the day you told him you were
pregnant with me and then he upped 
and left the both of us behind 

Well that all now makes perfect sense
to me 

And I am so sorry for not only just for me
my mummy but for you as well 

As he sounds like a lowdown dirty filthy pig
of a man 

But thankfully I am lucky enough to be your
son and proudly call you my mother 

As opposed to ever having to admit even
to myself

I am the Son of Sam himself


Dear Santa...

... at my tender age of 4TOne
it's dawned on me that you're the fun
never having thought to write before...
I can see now why my stockings bare...
I never sent a letter 'up there'.

So Santa if I may please... and if indeed
I please you too...
May I then send this letter on through?

I wrote my wishes just right
and I'll eat my peas at night
But Santa I must confess...
A good and proper girl
I've been the least... and
at times, I've been a beast.
But Santa I've never really known
To catch your eye was by way of pen
and then again, I guess I should have.



Pinolo's nose was a wooden craft...
old school but roughly draft and
cold in the corridor, he laughed...
So...
Having seen that Dear Santa I say
I started a fire in the hall that day
Invited him in and near the pit
The fire was hot I must admit
and
being I want to share what's true
I wrote my details in a note to you.
When you read it I'm sure you'll say...
that headed for my stocking
on that joy filled day,
is a lump of coal
for the way I've behaved.
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Luscious Lips That Others Secretly Kiss

Fairest and prettiest of all queens, you're never faithful to your king whose hands
barely touch your luscious lips that others secretly kiss;
and you meet them in an empty dungeon to satisfy your urges of lover,
not honoring those vows blessed by that priest who sprinkled Holy Water.
In the prime of your youth, you were given in marriage
for an exchange of great wealth by a father so greedy and heartless
who sought his interest, refusing to admit you were of a tender age;
and he brings his gifts to appease a king who won't demote his rank of prince.
Loyal maids know each secret and arrange your meetings with another knight,
keeping a watchful eye, and they would warn you if they heard footsteps;
naked and screaming, enjoying the ecstasy of lustful lover...wishing it would be night,
to forget the lack of everything: from sensual kisses to warm caresses.
Does guilt ever accuses your conscience of wrongdoing,? No, you seek revenge
by having continuous affairs with knights who have more sexual drive than an old king.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Inventor of Cruise Control - a True Story

As you cruise along the interstate in your ultra-sleek sedan,
You should ever keep in mind a little-known engineering man.
His name is Ralph Teetor, inventor of a device called cruise control.
Perfecting the auto for the comfort of the public was his lifetime goal!

At the tender age of twelve, the budding genius built a full-sized car!
He graduated from the University of Pennsylvania as an engineering star!
He moved to Hagerstown, Indiana, which is my old hometown as well.
There, he founded Perfect Circle Piston Ring Company for many years to dwell.

Ralph was annoyed by the auto's lurching, gas guzzling driving habits.
It reminded him of the hopping, loping attributes of irrational rabbits!
In the basement of his home he spent hours tinkering with his invention.
Cadillac first installed cruise control when it was brought to their attention!

He received numerous honors and patents during his creative lifetime,
Making driving for the traveling public more pleasurable and sublime.
'Twas truly remarkable the many accomplishments he was to contrive,
Since he was blinded due to an unfortunate accident at the age of five!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Received
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Annmarie

Shimmered gold thin hair, heart
shaped face,
innocent look with love’s trace.
She was petite and tanned from
the summery sun-
ivory lace dress past her knees,
how beauteous youth can be.

Those July afternoons of chilled
iced tea,
she gave birth in the years to three.
The Long Island queen,
is it a dream-
that I see you fair again so carefree,
in the days of the pretty Annmarie.

When we’re in the tender age,
we don’t think that will change,
til the thief ancient and gray
took her memory away.

I’ve wept for what you lost,
it came at such a cost.
I know you’ve had some joy
in life,
my brother’s wife.
I recall the days of the pretty Annmarie,
sparkled eyes of depth and brave,
once the color of the Fire Island waves.
I remember the melodious Annmarie,
walking with her children by the sea. ~
Form: Rhyme


A Shangri-La In Hell

A SHANGRI-LA  IN  HELL.

I feel at peace with the roll at hand.
At a place of bliss, whenever I take a puff.
My mum call it beast.
My wife call it monster.
My sweet cigar.

At a tender age, lured by a friend.
A little puff good for you, he persuaded.
Another puff friend, he coaxed.
I was manipulated to it.
My sweet cigar.


A packet and a lighter, my best friends.
Accompanying me to every corner.
The paraphernalia that has taught me generosity.
I can't stand a friend suffering.
My sweet cigar.

My kids at home,can go without milk.
Their tea sugarless.
As I spare a coin for my comforter.
A sweet burden in me.
The bondage I brought myself into.
My sweet cigar.

My sweet wife keeps complaining.
I have promised to abstain.
To do away with smoking.
Times without number I have promised
But it's clear that I can't do without.
My sweet cigar.

?@Kipngeno Robin.
Tha Formidable Cheru.
#themonk

Great Uncle Sam

I was a child, yes, even little old me, 
curious and happy, my smile wild with glee. 
But at the tender age of seven, 
I learnt that family go to heaven. 

My aunt, a distant, great, great one, 
who I'm told baked Welsh cakes second to none, 
passed on by in her sleep, 
no sickness, no hospital stay or cardiac bleep. 

Too young to mourn my mother said, 
too far to go for distant dead. 
To be honest, it wasn't until that time, 
that I learnt about my family's line. 

My grandad had two sisters see, 
each as unique as one could be. 
One died some time before my birth, 
now sadly this aunt was laid in earth. 

Yet, along came a parcel, a letter, a note, 
'To Charlotte' , from 'Uncle Sam' it wrote. 
The parcel, I opened, like any young child, 
ripping at the packaging, like kid gone wild. 

Inside was a teddy bear, my aunt had owned, 
given at the same age as me, seven years old. 
The letter was written in cursive, neat, aligned, 
with a twenty pound note, how beyond kind? 

It said 'use on something you will treasure, 
please write me a letter, at your leisure'.
Who would have known that I'd do just that,
buying a fishing rod, a reel, tackle and hat. 

And sooner than later we visited, on my request, 
he greeted us, in wellies, lumberjack shirt and vest. 
Such a marvellous man, such stories he told, 
from sheep stealing dinners to finding lost gold. 

A friendship of two, age didn't matter, 
we were both unique, quirky, mad as a hatter.
Fast forward ten years, he is so gravely ill,
me at his beside, in the hospital on the hill. 

I speak of stories, now tales of my own, 
a distraction from his internal body groan. 
I hug, I smile, bless him for his love, 
and that next morning he was called above. 

Through bereavement and loss, I gained a friend, 
we remained close right until the end. 
Love like that, so unique, and so raw, 
changed my whole outlook down to the core. 
My heart still skips, like I was seven, 
when I reminisce about my uncle, now in heaven. 

06.05.2021

Tender moment as a child contest
Sponsored by: Malabika Ray Choudhury

Used and Abused

I took the force of it again today
A curled formed fist from powerful limb
Planted on cheek in full fledged force
Rendered with frustrated frenzy
And me the punch bag

I took the torrent of ugly words today
Aimed just for me like poisonous arrows
That infiltrate and destroy the soul
And humiliate my tortured mind
I took it all without a word

I took the weight of unwanted lust today
Upon my meagre violated body
Forced against will to serve base needs
Instilling hurt and sanguine pain
Contaminated and used

I bore the agony of excised pain today
That went beyond the barrier of suffering
Of no desire and mutilation
Taken without assent and free will
Now void of feeling and of worth

I had to marry an old fat man today
And take glib vows at tender age
Lost now the age of child-like innocence
No time to play, no time to feel free
Just subjected and servile

I carry the marks of abuse today
Of contusion and mental confusion
Of pain, depression and low self esteem
Of humiliating indignity
And permanent scar

Premium Member Still a Bit of Bark- not much Bite !!!

I met a man some time ago
who late in age had a very healthy body
But when he opened up his mouth 
his teeth looked rather shoddy

At tender age of five his face was adorned with many bumpy warts
Prescriptions such as creams covered with a nightly full face cotton mask
It would twist around his face, he often felt a long way out of sorts

Finally to a city consultation
prescribing facial radiation
Six weeks in total applied to his dial
mercurochrome a facial paint daily rubbed on
Not much in those days to really make him smile

So many years later probably sixty or so
he discovered radiation affects emerging adult teeth
causes them to crumble it's now what he has to show

A radiographer confirmed what he had read these are the side effects for sure
Arising from this most unnatural cure

Many comments from family and friends alike
about the sight of his unfortunate dental state
Not much affordable able to be done
it's now many years too late

Hope there's not too many more derogatory statements about this mans north and south
That refer once again to the visual components in his mouth

And what is so amazing his teeth don't give him any trouble
no aching no bouts of unwanted pain
If he had his time over could make his own decisions with his knowledge of radiation
it would never happen again

Footnote: this man has recently learnt that the radiation has most likely killed off the nerves hence no pain
Form: Rhyme

Introduction To a Novel

‘April’s Fools’. 
Set in the 1950’s with poverty and slum housing still prevalent, to gain money, a father decides to sell his six children, never realising his plan which was really to re-house them, would place them in untold dangers.

   A young couple, both single parents, find themselves later burdened with many children but with few means to look after them.  Already hated by his mother-in-law, penniless and out of work, with a strong desire to be on the stage, Michael, does not let on he was divorced at the tender age of 21, he is already a father by his ex-wife and his lover; and now a child on the way by his fiancée.  As the family grows the money dwindles on drink. To gain money and a new home, Michael decides he must sell his six children and offers them for sale in a local newspaper, causing uproar.  This results in him being offered a job and cottage, away from the city.
Form: Narrative

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