Long Tending Poems
Long Tending Poems. Below are the most popular long Tending by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tending poems by poem length and keyword.
Dragon's back! It’s Easter Time and, Yes; we’re going to church today...
Right after the Easter Egg Hunt. Ostrich eggs were perfect, for Dragon, I say…
The Trolls worked at painting them, all night. They wanted them perfect., for sure.
Psychedelic colors seemed to reign supreme. Yes… with lots of crazy bling! De Jure!
Grandpa Troll’s carrying the BIG basket that his penguins decorated in ribbons strung!
His penguins got to go on the egg hunt, too It’s their first, but each picked, only one.
They couldn't understand eating eggs so we gave them chicks, that will hatch, so…
It’s off to church we go, cowboy best for the penguins, tending their eggs as they go.
Dragon has his 'Dragon Hood' cape with yellow bib overalls, totally covered in bling!
Beside himself, till we said he could go. Now he's jumping up and down, as he sings!
He's going to church, for he needs all the help he can get, along the way, true.
We're trying to instill, ‘What Would Jesus Do’. Strengthen his character ideas, too.
But HE thinks he's already a STRONG character, and it's given him great success!
Don't think he understood, what strength of character means, so his soul, God Bless!
So what's next, he ask?... Gee! Taking the kitty down from the curtains would be nice.
You SCARED her there! Remember! When you jumped up and down, once or twice!
NO! You can't burn the curtains to get her down! Gee! I think he’s MISSING the point!
She’s going to church to light a candle for you… to help you find… a better viewpoint.
Remember, in life… Make love not War. Make Friends! After all… What would Jesus Do?
Kitty is TOO important! I'll read you a fable 'The Lion and the Mouse', after Church, too.
No! He didn't squish the mouse! Sigh! Think harder… THINK! WHAT WOULD JESUS DO!
Hope it's an up hill battle. More likely he'll fly over this hill, between, just me and you!
He LOVES church and after his last visit, they rebuilt the church, which was… assured!
They built our group our own SPECIAL section… Of that, you can definitely, be sure!
The church thought, for a very long time, but with a sigh, they knew…WWJD?!!!
Then prayed some more as they cried, at the thought, of what Dragon could do…
In the end, they built a fireproof room, for no matter what they though, to be true…
They knew Dragon is Gods little lost lamb and that’s just “What Jesus Would DO!’
Happy Easter to You!
What if you were an inhabitant of a world
Where there's no hate, greed, jealousy, envy, and pride;
And one is not enraged by the prosperity of another?
What if conceit and enmity are erased from the course of history,
And malignity is perpetually swallowed in the deepest of pits,
Sinking to rise no more?
What if your subconscious ideate a world
Filled with love, peace, and harmony?
What if Seven Billion human beings could live together under one canopy,
Tending to and upholding high esteem for one another
As benevolence becomes the ultimate act,
That reigns over all timelines?
What if we put aside the destructive comparisons and competitions,
And every individual follows his or her own path
While uplifting all others at the same time?
What if the promotion of individuality and self productivity,
Was the niche of every human —one to another—
And every gift and talent was equally consequential to society?
What if there was no lust for power
And political leaders as well as government officials,
Assume offices not to seek their own selfish interests
By misappropriating public funds, and embezzling state owned belongings to enrich themselves?
What if they had the sincere dedication
To ensure the welfare and security of the state and its citizens?
What if this world was a sanctuary of peace with the nonexistence of violence,
Where nations were aimed at building, rather than destroying one another?
What if unity becomes a compelling force
That binds the Earth to its core,
And compassion remains the lifelong element
That keeps the Universe in motion?
What if the globe was entirely void
of racism, prejudice, discrimination, and partiality;
Where each and every human was afforded equally the same opportunity
Regardless of their race, sex, ethnicity, culture or nationality?
What if we could finally dwell in a word once dreamed of by Martin Luther King Jr.,
Where "humans will no longer be judged based on the color of their skin, but by the contents of their character"?
There is an extreme power in these questions!
But what if they were a reality, can you imagine what we could all achieve?
What if you allow that imagination to create pictures of transformations?
What if you act stepwise from these unceasing questions,
And give it a chance to become a momentous action,
To make this Planet a better Creation?
They had measured on close counts,
Before they began his dismount,
All flowers and scents were left behind,
It was only mud that came to mind,
He was a log of wood that had no use,
They were about to consign him as refuse,
They had measured on close counts,
And now had finished his dismount,
They all glumly looked at the innards of earth,
Dug apart so as to be his home and hearth,
They lowered him with care,
Some cried and other shed tears,
Such care they had never shown,
When he was alive full blown,
They left him but he could not,
In years that followed he thought,
And all thoughts were about and their's,
But he lay still there,
Not able to do much,
While lower insects ate him as such,
Twenty yards under the surface,
The earth weighed on him like a mace,
He had volumes to carry,
Every moment without delay or tarry,
In peace he had the quiet,
Under the forceful mud of his burial site,
He was largely unattended,
Only heard anniversary footsteps,
When his thought subject came tending,
There was lot of din,
As one day woke abruptly in,
He could hear the rattling and banging of hammer,
His peace was disturbed and began to stammer,
It was furious and fast,
He presumed it could not be just his nest,
But also his neighbors from first to last,
It was familiar yes very much so,
All the sound and racket on the go,
It was regular and incessant,
As if it was rain rampant,
Yes, clouds up there from above,
Were pouring over his grave,
They sounded angry and irate,
And were determined to drown all gates,
He felt secure under mud,
And there suddenly was a seeping thud,
It was really bad and water had come in tones,
His grave was all definitely drowned,
Now the water had bossed over the earth,
Pressing it hard for the inner most berth,
It was invading the twenty yards,
And approaching him fast,
And he thought will the dead also meet the flood,
The seeping thud was on the first drop,
That fell on his stomach,
He churned as eating insects scurried,
Soon train followed thud after thud,
And then it was a volley of scuds,
His cavity was being filled,
And bones getting viscid and humid,
A coolness spread through rotten carrion,
And went on to turn into a bath for the skeleton,
It bathed him till it was just soaking,
Was it he who had ascended to heaven,
Or the heavens came pouring down to meet him even.
Suburban Spring
(4.15.10)
Springtime fills the air,
like laughing gas.
(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
Middle-class houses
are starting to dance.
(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
Confused and intrigued,
with a slight urge to pee.
The father cuts grass,
like a sleepwalker.
(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
A six pack later,
he starts washing his car.
(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.
The mother kneels in dirt,
tending the garden.
(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty. (Figuratively, at least.)
A sunset later,
she cooks family dinner.
(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.
The son plays war games,
dying for fun.
(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
A full pitcher later,
tweaking on sugar,
(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.
The daughter makes a picnic,
inviting her toys.
(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
After the tea time,
she's off picking flowers.
(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)
They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."
(And proceed to stuff their face.)
The dog sits by the boy -
Loyal and true.
(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
After dinner,
he offers to help with the dishes.
(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite. The dog is not surprised.
Bedtime comes soon after.
The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
After tucking them in,
the parents watch TV.
(Or maybe they just dream they do,
sleeping in its glow.)
The dog is changing channels,
looking for a better show.
Confused and intrigued,
he pees on the carpet below.
Contained within a simple poem, a few words could never describe my mother.
A child bride at seventeen; a city girl became a farmer's wife.
She never complained about tending the fields, one row after another.
My mom loved her new husband and her new way of life.
A mother at nineteen, thank goodness for my Aunt Chloe.
"No hospital for me," my young mother said. "I will not go!"
Delivered by my granny, I was told Mom kissed my head to show
she loved me though I'd caused her cries of pain and woe.
Cooking was not Mom's forte'. She burned so many meals,
but Dad loved her anyway for giving him two girls and a boy.
Times were often rough but to us it was not a big deal.
We were happy to be loved, a gift better than any game or toy.
Mom was always cheerful, except when we did something wrong.
A spanking was on the agenda, and we knew it was deserved.
A smack or two was all she delivered, then she sang us a song.
No lack of love did mom have for me, it was never reserved.
Farming was not an easy life...crops ruined by summer hail.
In just a few minutes everything was lost, but Mom wore a smile.
"Don't worry. It'll be okay. I'm getting a job delivering the mail."
She left early in the morning, walking to mail boxes mile after mile.
Bereaved as a widow, my mother cried softly upon my shoulder.
I gave her comfort as she did me for the loss of husband and dad.
Always close in times of need, I took care of Mom when I was older.
Hurricane Katrina took her house, but not the memories she had.
I moved away for several years but came home to visit in June.
Mom's hazel eyes reflected her love for me and the man I married.
Six months later, I sat on the porch gazing at the full moon.
My sister called, but her voice was sad. I knew why she tarried.
I knew what she couldn't put into words. Mom had passed away.
Oh, the agony of not being there... my tears fall as I write.
To my mom, the beautiful young wife and mother, I'd say,
I pray you knew how much I loved you...
A star fell from the sky tonight.
_______________________
December 25th, 2015
About My Mom Contest
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Next of Kin
She had never been taught the trick.
To the men such things were granted.
Air filled pelts, breath under water.
To the women was left the nest.
Near ashore she saw them panic.
Her father among them scrambling.
All overboard clutching bubbles.
With chilled heart she waded in deep.
The river rose swift over head,
but what could one see inside it?
Living shadow, curious beings.
Frightened hands did lose the surface.
Writhing desperate seeking soul,
chest bursting, inflamed with fate,
she ceased to struggle, resigning.
No more sound but mothers calling.
They heft her aboard grins forming.
Quaking limbs of wet ebony,
the Nile had delivered a jewel.
An able kick freed the water.
Eyes tight, she curled as a fetus.
Then covered with appraising hands,
in lustful chorus of strokes and jeers,
Insistent prods displayed her gifts.
A fine catch fit for the priming.
But pleasing to God, It ends there.
A word of one voice repelled them.
This voice offered hands that cradled,
and kiss moist cloth to cover dried eyes
stung red from the strain of dying.
Twice saved, survival's heart still pounds.
Her health did come in one new moon.
Put to task she oiled the wood planks.
Always watching that merry one.
Who, tending others as herself
with whispers in the others tongue,
so wild of hair and lengthily,
seemed a contradicting body.
For crew, song, frolic, constant talk;
for hers, hymns of healing murmured.
And for the newly captured prey
she talked away the crude of mind.
Why they obeyed one such as I?,
was wondered on that rolling barge.
She learned the trick and many more,
through moon and stars and sun down gold.
Schooled by her sister half in blood,
they blew new life into cub skins.
They tied them to the men waist round,
who dove in long to find lost spoils.
In want of that sustaining breath,
they pulled from bubbles left afloat.
My father's home - she’d smile at ease
when eve they rest hid from the sun.
That merry one in silence waits,
for the land is scrolling by now.
Her serenades now prayerful sighs,
as they’re rowing out for dealing.
Strong ordered hands do sever them.
Half in blood, they’d stood together.
Her eyes were full of want to tell,
but the living tells it better
Amazing Animals in Art
Next of Kin
She had never been taught the trick.
To the men such things were granted.
Air filled pelts, breath under water.
To the women was left the nest.
Near ashore she saw them panic.
Her father among them scrambling.
All overboard clutching bubbles.
With chilled heart she waded in deep.
The river rose swift over head,
but what could one see inside it?
Living shadow, curious beings.
Frightened hands did lose the surface.
Writhing desperate seeking soul,
chest bursting, inflamed with fate,
she ceased to struggle, resigning.
No more sound but mothers calling.
They heft her aboard grins forming.
Quaking limbs of wet ebony,
the Nile had delivered a jewel.
An able kick freed the water.
Eyes tight, she curled as a fetus.
Then covered with appraising hands,
in lustful chorus of strokes and jeers,
Insistent prods displayed her gifts.
A fine catch fit for the priming.
But pleasing to God, It ends there.
A word of one voice repelled them.
This voice offered hands that cradled,
and kiss moist cloth to cover dried eyes
stung red from the strain of dying.
Twice saved, survival's heart still pounds.
Her health did come in one new moon.
Put to task she oiled the wood planks.
Always watching that merry one.
Who, tending others as herself
with whispers in the others tongue,
so wild of hair and lengthily,
seemed a contradicting body.
For crew, song, frolic, constant talk;
for hers, hymns of healing murmured.
And for the newly captured prey
she talked away the crude of mind.
Why they obeyed one such as I?,
was wondered on that rolling barge.
She learned the trick and many more,
through moon and stars and sun down gold.
Schooled by her sister half in blood,
they blew new life into cub skins.
They tied them to the men waist round,
who dove in long to find lost spoils.
In want of that sustaining breath,
they pulled from bubbles left afloat.
My father's home - she’d smile at ease
when eve they rest hid from the sun.
That merry one in silence waits,
for the land is scrolling by now.
Her serenades now prayerful sighs,
as they’re rowing out for dealing.
Strong ordered hands do sever them.
Half in blood, they’d stood together.
Her eyes were full of want to tell,
but the living tells it better
Amazing Animals in Art
Next of Kin
She had never been taught the trick.
To the men such things were granted.
Air filled pelts, breath under water.
To the women was left the nest.
Near ashore she saw them panic.
Her father among them scrambling.
All overboard clutching bubbles.
With chilled heart she waded in deep.
The river rose swift over head,
but what could one see inside it?
Living shadow, curious beings.
Frightened hands did lose the surface.
Writhing desperate seeking soul,
chest bursting, inflamed with fate,
she ceased to struggle, resigning.
No more sound but mothers calling.
They heft her aboard grins forming.
Quaking limbs of wet ebony,
the Nile had delivered a jewel.
An able kick freed the water.
Eyes tight, she curled as a fetus.
Then covered with appraising hands,
in lustful chorus of strokes and jeers,
Insistent prods displayed her gifts.
A fine catch fit for the priming.
But pleasing to God, It ends there.
A word of one voice repelled them.
This voice offered hands that cradled,
and kiss moist cloth to cover dried eyes
stung red from the strain of dying.
Twice saved, survival's heart still pounds.
Her health did come in one new moon.
Put to task she oiled the wood planks.
Always watching that merry one.
Who, tending others as herself
with whispers in the others tongue,
so wild of hair and lengthily,
seemed a contradicting body.
For crew, song, frolic, constant talk;
for hers, hymns of healing murmured.
And for the newly captured prey
she talked away the crude of mind.
Why they obeyed one such as I?,
was wondered on that rolling barge.
She learned the trick and many more,
through moon and stars and sun down gold.
Schooled by her sister half in blood,
they blew new life into cub skins.
They tied them to the men waist round,
who dove in long to find lost spoils.
In want of that sustaining breath,
they pulled from bubbles left afloat.
My father's home - she’d smile at ease
when eve they rest hid from the sun.
That merry one in silence waits,
for the land is scrolling by now.
Her serenades now prayerful sighs,
as they’re rowing out for dealing.
Strong ordered hands do sever them.
Half in blood, they’d stood together.
Her eyes were full of want to tell,
but the living tells it better
Amazing Animals in Art
May 6 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Esther 5-7
Key Verse – Esther 5:2 And it was so, when the king saw Esther the queen standing in the court, that she obtained favour in his sight: and the king held out to Esther the golden sceptre that was in his hand. So Esther drew near, and touched the top of the sceptre.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY FAVOUR GRANTER
Lord God, You are my favour Granter,
touching me with Your goodness
Thank You for responding to my call’s earnestness…
Please answer me of my petition’s request by Your faithfulness
May I then find approval in Your sight’s graciousness.
Lord God, You are my favour Granter,
taking me to Your joy’s victory
Thank You for refraining me from carnal pleasure’s flurry…
Please let me advance upward toward Your holy territory
May I then refuse worldly invitations that lead to my misery.
Lord God, You are my favour Granter,
teaching me to avail of Your blessing
Thank You for welcoming me for ministerial pressing…
Please help me obey Your commandments, divinely rising
May I then lay my life to Your altar for Your daily nursing.
Lord God, You are my favour Granter,
training me in Your service of honour and dignity
Thank You for upholding me to stand upon Your truth’s certainty…
Please cause me to delight in Your perfect will’s sovereignty
May I then wear Your apparel of functional spirituality.
Lord God, You are my favour Granter,
testing me against failure and frustration
Thank You for strengthening me midst hardship and persecution…
Please cover me with Your comfort to withstand attacking desperation
May I then prevail by Your guarding compassion.
Lord God, You are my favour Granter,
treating me to Your banquet’s contentment
Thank You for enabling me to fulfill my stewardship by Your empowerment…
Please keep me abounding in my good works’ commitment
May I then abide in Your security’s settlement.
Lord God, You are my favour Granter,
tending me by Your determined assurance
Thank You for inviting me to labour with Your partnership’s endurance…
Please instruct me, correcting my arrogance as well as ignorance
May I then learn from Your Word along Your precepts’ eternal insurance.
May 6, 2023
Enlighten days have past
He comes excel in all, so he thinks
"I am greater than man,
I know what ignorant man does not.
Come to me for knowledge unsurpassed!".
He points to the blue heaven,
"Where is thy wisdom? For I know all.
Where is thy command? That makes the ground shake
And brings forth water that lives?"
At the great gatherings,
He flocks the shepherds, blind, mute and deaf
He answers to the multitude of questions
He asked the shepherds, "but what are thy questions?",
“I know not what do ask a man of your wisdom, but what is a dream?
What is life?” asked the young herdsman.
"I know not what you speak of", said the Man.
"I only know what i can feel, touch and see"
"A dream is dream that passes us by, like gentle breeze of fresh spring.
Life holds all things mystery and doubts.
Shepherd knows to flock, not life or dreams".
"The shepherds are those who are humble, noble one", said the herdsman
"The blind cannot see, the mute cannot speak and the deaf cannot hear".
"Who are you preaching to? Silent and amaze, the man looks on.
"If the blind could see you,
They would say, 'look here is the man who tried to humble the blind
For they can see what others cannot,
If the mute could speak, they would humble you!
And if the deaf could hear they would shamed your wisdom".
"Was I a fool?" said the Man "or are you not that young herdsman?
Who knows nothing of life and passes his days tending the sheep's?
What could you learn from such simpleton life?"
"Life I live is simple indeed,
No one knows that the shepherds are those who protects the weak"
"Nature is a friend of the shepherd; we sing the song of David
And rubs the olive oil to our young sheep, to keep away the flies".
Insulted, the man's fury turns over to the young herdsman
"Nature? Protect the weak? The song of David? Flies?
How can nature befriend a lonely shepherd? Protect who?
Song of David the Shepherd who became the king?
What flies would harm the young flocks?"
The young herdsman smiled at the frown face of the man,
Left without a word
The blind, the mute and deaf ignored the man.
An unyielding shame kept the man humbled
He wonders why the young herdsman smiled about.
He came about a bridge and crossed the rocky roads
On the hill top he stood
And saw the young herdsman singing the Song of David.