Long To my wife Poems

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Premium Member Three Score and Fifteen Years Ago

Three Score and Fifteen Years Ago
By Franklin Price
11/14/2020

Three score and fifteen years ago
I was born upon this earth
Joined a family of eight,
Was the ninth, for what it's worth

Four sisters and two brothers
A mother, father there for me
I was to be the last of them
That nevermore would be

Was brought home to my siblings
Who were shown I was a boy
They were told it was not Christmas
That I was not a little toy

Spread of ages, ten long years
 Stuart Taylor to begin
Then, Nancy Ruth and Shirley Lou
Stopping then, would be a sin

 Earl Joseph, Laura Gertrude
Were the next ones in the game
Judith Carol just before me
Franklin Arthur is my name

Brought home to Merritt Island
Yes,  the one of lunar lore
Was then a growing citrus place
Barely had a country store

We had no city water
No AC then, you know
No TV there for watching
Listened to the radio

Milk brought by the milkman
Port Canaveral had no cruise
Truman was the president
The local paper brought the news

Many years have gone by
Helped shoot man to the moon
My father and my mother gone
Some siblings, way to soon

Nancy Ruth and Laura Gertrude
And myself are still around
They're now octogenarians
Five more years and I'll be crowned 

My life has been exceptional
The best wife for fifty years
In seven days it's fifty-one
Can still remember that from here

Left High School in sixty four
Sixty- eight in Vietnam 
Sixty-nine sent man off to the moon
It's great to be the who I am

Married, November, sixty-nine
To my wife and daughter too
They were the rocks within my life
For the things that I would do

Involved with start up ventures
Traveled all around the globe
Collected hotel ashtrays
Lots of shampoo and a robe

Had my own small business
A little longer than a score
Rode on Harley cycles
Three hundred thousand miles and more

Rode all the lower forty-eight
Three provinces above
A thousand miles in Africa
All  of these with my true love

So you see it's been a great life
And I'm only seven- five
I got up this fine morning
It's still great to be alive

Friends and family, who read this
And know of these things I say
Know you helped to make it great
As I traveled on the way 

Here's a toast to all of us
And the passed days since our birth
I'm sending love to all of you
For all that may be worth
Form: Rhyme


Haiku 35

1#
Brewed tea
Wife and myself
Nothing between us
2#
He was metamorphosed 
Into a frog
When his wife had left him
3#
I needed
A lonely woman
Thousand years back
4#
She shivered
In yellow sun
Struck by her coyness
5#
God travels
With three suitcases
One for me
6#
I kissed
Her frostiness 
And my lips turned icebergs
7#
The bed
Gets embarrassed
At our nakedness
8#
Her hands
Stopped me
To pick evenings
9#
We two rested
In a cave of Kundalini
Behind the waterfall
10#
The alien woman 
Travelled six moons
To deliver her baby in a burial ground 
11#
An eagle swoops
On a field –mouse
Tables of wedding
12#
The woman kissed me
I felt her hollow ribs
As if in a spring dream
13#
The woman’s hair
Struck by a gale
Made waterfalls
14#
My wife locked
Me one fine evening
In my neighbour’s hole
15#
The rats are away
When mice take in
My wife’s clammy face
16#
The summer rain
In exasperation
Took wings to raid the moon
17#
Lolo my wife
Her green sleek steps
Thundered an innocent fly
18#
In the dead of night
God made two wives
One for me one for my neighbour
19#
My neighbour’s wife
Delivered a child
When I was asleep
20#
The woman said goodbye
And I took a fish for dinner
I mistook it for my wife
21#
My wife is a canvas
Where I paint
My forebodings
22#
A painter’s apprentice
In sheer foolishness
daubed in red my wife’s rear-view
23#
A squirrel saw my wife
And in haste
Lost her guava 
24#
I was caught in neighbour’s bedroom
By my wife last summer
I lost my glasses
25#
A wolf entered the graveyard 
Unannounced
And annoyed my wife
26#
Sarah my wife
Lumbering
Dizzy commuters
27#
Sarah wed me
And in brief forgetfulness
Greeted my neighbour
28#
A tiger ate Sarah my wife
It happened by accident
The tiger knows
29#
Morning bell
Wake up call
I want to sleep
30#
Pola my pet fly
Fouled things up
She ate my wife’s breakfast
31#
My dog Pintu
Hydrophobia
I set him free on my wife’s posterior
32#
Eons ago a butterfly
Gave birth to my wife
Now, a caterpillar 
33#
A hard slap
Stammering 
Hurricane Sarah will win 
34#
You have gathered enough winters 
Woman sighs
Leave one for me
35#
The woman flapped her wings
To clouded mountaintops
Silky as white

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Form: Haiku

An Ode To the Magnificent Mother

By: Sashi.Prabhu (zeauoxian)
 Mother's Day is a celebration honoring mothers and celebrating motherhood, maternal bonds and the influence of mothers in society.

The moon, the stars, the sunny skies, so beautiful they seem,
All mankind can sense and appreciate what it means,
Their beauty and the beauty of others,
Are in no way a comparison to our mothers.

Mothers are God’s gift to us,
Least appreciated and most worked without a fuss.
Mothers are there to help teach and guide,
And through thick and thin stay by your side.

Mother loves us right from the start,
From the moments she fondly holds us close to her heart.
These moments forever seem to her like only yesterday,
But we all know they were a few eons away.

Mother is there right through our troubles, conflicts and strife,
And every endeavor she undertakes to keep us afloat through pains of life.
Any time in life we can rely on her strong helping hand,
And she is there for you till you have regained the strength, alone to stand.


Mother is one we can lean on,
As deep in her heart she is very strong.
At times it is only mother who can soothe our running tears,
And calm our mind’s lurking shadows of fears.

Mother filled our days with multihued lights,
And put us to bed with lullaby and sweet dreams nights.
And on a foreign land you gave life to me,
And when I was old enough to my wife you set me free.

Whenever I needed you were there with tender care,
For advice and support you were always there.
You taught me right from wrong,
And how to the world whistle my own song.

Mother, I wonder if I could give a diamond to you,
For every tear you shed for me without much ado.
Mother, I wonder if you could accept an emerald from me,
For each truth you made me realize and see.

Mother, I wonder if I could give a ruby to you,
For every midnight coffee you did brew.
Mother, I wonder if I could give a pearl to you,
For every lesson of wisdom you have given me anew.


But I don’t have these and this you are aware,
And all I can offer you is my love devotion and care.
You are so dear to me but yet it took me so long to say,
Have a “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY”.

I know that when you think of me,
A part of you in me you will always see.
Thank you and I Love you Mom,
This is me your first born son
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Thank You India

Thank you for the culture so rich and colourful 
The silk woven fabric, tribal clothes, so wonderful

Thank you for the rice, chapati's, and street food spicy hot
It touched me the poverty though
Which showed me to appreciate how much I have got

Thank you for the cows that wander in and out of traffic 
The rickshaws, chaa wallahs, loud horns
It all feels so chaotic, but magic

Thank you for the monsoon rains, the heat and humidity
The cold northern air, but not the pollution in the cities

Thank you for the coast line and sand dust in the desert 
And the mighty Himalayas  
That rise up and remind us of a Tibetan presence

Thank you for the land it felt like my second mother
It showed me the way home to inner peace like a no other 

Thank you for the Ganges
The most spiritual river on earth
Thank you for the belief in a possible rebirth

Thank you for the North, South, East and West
India has a gift I wish to share with the rest

Thank you for the people a billion or more 
Friendly and open, spiritual hearts galore

Thank you for the religions so diverse yet the same
Thank you for showing me how to sit still again

Thank you India for giving me back my life
I never expected you to introduce me to my wife

Thank you for the knowledge of yoga and ayurvedic craft
Most of the world doesn't know everything you gave us
In the past

Thank you for the ancient places where a sacred presence lies
In the mosques, churches and temples
The burning of incense can open your third eye

Thank you for the freedom you give to walk your own path
From villages, yogis, saddhus and sages, sit and meditated 
In the smoky grass

Thank you for the knowledge of I am, I am
Thank you for Shiva, Krishna and Brahman

Thank you for meditation, musical ragas and art 
You have taught me a lesson that the ego is an illusion 
And not that smart

Thank you for showing me the light in your eyes
The street children I bless them that they will find their prize

I bless the land of India today
God bless the people because daily millions pray

For themselves, for animals, for nature and us
They know and they live with the truth
One day we will all be dust

Thank you India, you inspire me on
I will hold you in my heart 
Until my words are long gone.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Nick and Mat, a Thanksgiving Story

Hello. My name is Nicholas, and you can call me Nick. I also must tell you about Matthew, and you can call him Mat. I once despised Mat and others like him, but now he has become my best friend. I am the Pharisee and Nick is the Publican about whom Jesus gave a parable. There was an occasion when Mat and I went to the temple to pray at the same time.  I'm sure you would agree that my thanksgiving prayer left no doubt about what I was most grateful for. My prayer described a 'righteous' person who despised others unlike himself. I was thankful for that.  Jesus used me as a perfect example of a person who is 'thankfully righteous' in his own eyes and with those same eyes, look down on other people.

Listen if you will to a short prayer I once prayed that I would never utter again because my life has been completely changed. "OH GOD, I THANK YOU that I am not like other people-robbers, crooks, adulterers, or, heaven forbid, like this tax man. I fast twice a week and tithe on all my income. Now, listen to Mat's prayer. He had no pride nor anything to boast about. "God, give mercy. Forgive me, a sinner." *                                                               

It was as if I had a Thanksgiving Holiday Spread filled with everything for my personal satisfaction.  i.e.  I had an overflowing POT of "I'm not like other people". I had a larger than normal BOWL of "I fast two times a week". I had a commercial-sized PAN of "I give tithes of all I possess". I had a big PLATTER of "I am a just man". I had a PLATE full of "I'm faithful to my wife". My dining table was overflowing with things I feasted on. I was full of it; full of myself. Yet, after feasting on all that I had, I was still hungry and empty, unjustified, abased, and unacceptable by God. On the other hand, the tax collector came hungry and empty but left filled, fulfilled, forgiven, and justified by God.                             

I later met Jesus and became born again. Now, I despise none and love everyone. And now, like my best friend Mat, I know how to pray, and I understand the true meaning of Thanksgiving. 

11122018PoSoup                                                                                                                                                       *Message Bible


The Waiter and the Wife

I once met a waiter in Berlin.
A tall man with blonde hair, 
a long scar above his eye,
I knew his name only to be Jurgen.

Following coffee one fine day I asked this man, 
“Do you know where I can go to find a splash of life?”
He replied with a smile, 
“I'm sorry I'm not the best for that, perhaps you should speak to my wife.”

And with that he called over a very pretty lady, 
as he summoned her he told me that her name was Sadie.
I looked at her and said, 
“Oh my gosh miss but you are quite amazing...
please excuse me for my amount of gazing.”

She told me not to worry, 
it was neither here nor there.
But that I should find my way to the edge of town, 
practically to the brink of nowhere.
I looked at her confused and I said, 
“What miss should I travel so far to see?”
She looked at Jurgen, then back my way, and simply said, 
“I guess you'll just have to trust me.”

So I paid for my coffee, 
then I started out.  
Not knowing where I was going, 
my head full of doubt.
I walked past the stores, 
and the city shops.  
I reached the country farms, 
their lands brimming with crops.

I walked so far in fact my legs began to falter, 
I cursed Sadie and her cryptic words 
as I traveled halfway to Gibraltar.

Then just as the sun was about to tuck itself behind the horizon for this night, 
I saw what I believed to be the most awe-inspiring sight.
Maybe it was the glister of her blue eyes against the stony mountains behind her en masse, 
or perhaps it was the shade of her beautiful auburn hair atop the chartreuse grass.  
Whatever it was I was smitten from the start.  
I knew it to be true, 
I knew it deep within my heart.

She smiled at me with all her warmth and said, 
“Well hi there handsome, what brings you way out here?”
I said, 
“You know, at first I wasn't sure, but now it's very clear.”

It's been twenty years since I married her, 
that little splash of mine.  
We moved to the city and I became a waiter, 
not always, 
but just from time to time.

Now on days when patrons ask me 
just where should they begin.  
I smile and say, 
“It starts by speaking to my wife, 
instead of drinking coffee in the cafes of Berlin.” 


January 7, 2016

Sing a Thong of Seafood

What could be better than sitting in a restaurant together you and me,
And starring into the crystal sky above the deep blue sea?

We ordered up some seafood dinners we didn’t want to order steaks,
And then for an appetizer I got a pair of their crab cakes.

They were the best that I’ve ever eaten, even when visiting the south,
They were large, tender and delicious and they melted in my mouth.

Nothing could make this dinner better it was the greatest thing by far,
Until a blond wearing see-through stretch pants seated herself at the bar.

OK it got a little bit better then, but still I knew that it was wrong,
Because her stretch pants were so transparent you could clearly see her thong.

And I don’t mean a faint outline where you might think you saw something red,
It was right there on her bare derriere and while I’m old, I’m still far from dead.

It might have helped if she wasn’t cute or if she wasn’t built the way she was,
But she was cute and built and that would explain just exactly why because,

Like me, every guy in the place was thinking exactly the same thing,
How long can I get away with staring until I get a slap that’ll sting?

So I took the lead and pointed her out to my wife and she just rolled her eyes,
“Good luck getting a refill of iced tea now I bet our waiter never even tries.”

It was true that every waiter in the place called this girl by name,
She was a popular regular and they were moths drawn to her flame.

What was it that has brought this child down to this lowly state?
Why can’t she afford clothing that covers her up why didn’t she have a date?

“I bet that I know,” I said to my wife, “why she came here dressed that way,
Why it is she feels the need to be noticed and put herself on display.”

I pointed out that as each waiter passed by her they brought her a little dish,
Just a sampling of something good to eat whether, shrimp, crab cakes or fish.

“The only way that this meal would be better is if you didn’t have to pay,
I believe that was her intention and I think that she’s discovered the way.”

So if you would like to dine on a meal of fresh fish from the sea,
Make them believe that you’re the dish and then you can dine for free.
© Tony Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Judgment

Bang the gavel. Bang it again. 
   It's Judgment Day for my children.
Bang the gavel. Bang it again.
   I sit on my Throne, a figure on High
To pronounce Judgment from my seat in the sky.  

It's Judgment Day for my children. They tremble before me.
   I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.
Three sons and a daughter down on their knees. Begging for mercy.
   It's Judgment Day. Bang the gavel. Bang it again. 

The first defendant arises. My only daughter.  
   She kneels before me, head bowed, hands clasped. Begging for mercy.
She recites her litany of offenses against me. 
   Should I cut off her head or merely sever her knee?  

Now my first son, a strongman, comes to his feet
   Massive muscles trembling before me
He cut me off hard at age thirty-six
   Not a phone call or test, not even a card

I ponder whether I should burn him to death in a tub of pig lard.
   Let him beg for mercy. 

My last two sons stand up together.  They're good boys, respectful,
   kind to me and kind to my wife.
There's no doubt in my mind that I'll be sparing their life
 
It's Judgment Day for my children.  They tremble before Me. 
   I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.  

I call my daugher to the bench: "What do you have to say
   in your defense, miserable wench?"
She breaks down in tears that melt down her years.  Before me stands
   a mere lass of nine.
"I'm so sorry, Dad," she whimpers. "I treated you like dirt," she simpers.

"Off with her head," I shout, proclaiming her sentence. 
   I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.

                       ******************

But I am not God.  I have no gavel to bang nor Throne to sit on
   Neither am I any figure on High.
My judgment is flawed, as are my decisions
   All of them models of judicial imprecision
  
Only one thing I know and I know that thing only: 
   God, the True Judge, requires us only
To act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before Him.

So, my just action will be 
   to love mercy and walk humbly:    
    "Come back, my daughter. 
     Return, my son. 
     I forgive you completely!
     ~ Can you forgive me?" 

                            June 28, 2018
Form: Rhyme

The Live-in -- Part 2 of 3

She here elbowed past me stomping, pausing not (although me whomping
With her wildly swinging handbag – five kilograms, if not more).
Cackling brusquely in a lather, that I should her baggage gather,
She then made a beeline rather straight through to the bathroom door.
Bathrobe clad and I mouth gaping, a liquidesque and turgid score –
		Heard I come from ‘hind said door.

Faculties mine then regaining, to the muffled sounds of straining,
Luggage lugged I by the armful ‘til it half covered the floor.
Having purged demons internal, emerged she with a stench infernal,
And disturbed wife’s rest nocturnal – sensed she had her mother’s spoor –
Thus awakened, hair disheveled, she exclaim-ed, “Oh my Lor-”
(At which point she saw Lenore).						
Here, dear reader, I’ll acknowledge that I met my wife in college.
We did wed with an alacrity that left our families sore.
With them mostly, we’ve fence-mended, olive branches we’ve extended,
And with all have soreness ended, with th’exception of Lenore –
Impromptu Vegas nuptials ours ne’er pardoned she us for.
		Forgiveness? She’d said, “Nevermore.”
	
Subsequently, every meeting, whether days in length or fleeting
Ever marred was by the vitriol that from her mouth did pour.
Our presence thus disdaining, we content were then remaining
Distant from her foul complaining – contact with her we forswore.
No truck had we had with her for nigh on twelve years, maybe more –
		Hence the shock of her at door.	

Standing there in hallway fuming, scent of ordure ‘round perfuming,
An entitled air assuming, my wife’s mother took the floor.
She in voice like squealy quacking, peppered with some phlegmy hacking,
Every dulcet tone it lacking, sounding like a wounded boar,
Claimed she an Ikean sofa that her ample rearguard bore –
		“I’ve come to visit,” croaked Lenore.

Looked I to my wife in query (bad side hers on of being leery),
Wincing at what could be sheer emoted outrage and furore,
Said wife, “What drugs are you taking that would lead you then to making
The mistake you are mistaking in appearing at our door?
What dark, unholy, nasty, wretched reason came you for,
		That you so defile our door?”
Form: Rhyme

The Silky Smooth Stones At Heavens Door

Invasion, the death, the agony so
                                                      I fire my gun
                                                    against my foe

                                     Watching my friends, my brothers
                                                             go
                                                  Fear in my heart
                                                   Tensions grow

                                             I push along the shore
                                             With all the might I had
                                                   For my family
                                          I Suffer this D-Day agony

                                         Then in the blink of an eye
                                              I feel a sharp pain 
                                               peircing my heart
                                               stiffening my viens
                                         
                                            I remember my Anny,
                                             Prayers to my wife
                                          Longing her in the last
                                             Seconds in my life
                                
                  ......then a light, the light surrounds me at every angle......

                                             I see my gaurdian angel
                                                    walk up to me
                                               guiding me calmly
                                             on the cotton cloud grove

                                            I feel the warmth my place
                                                          In life
                                           ....as I walk up the stairs....
                                           getting closer, wanting more
                                                     walking upon 
                                           The silky smooth stones
                                                at heavens door
Form:

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