Long Warmers Poems

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


Premium Member Where True Worship Lies

WHERE TRUE WORSHIP LIES

Listen carefully incline thine ear,
For those with inner ears to hear,

It is not a saying deep or dark,
But even the simple can embark,

A Word to both the aged, and youth,
True worship is in Spirit, and in Truth. 

True worship, is not to be confused,
With faithful warmers of the pews.

Fellowship with the brethren is good and right,
Right living in God’s unfailing sight.

Not in whose service is left right at the door,
though he is rich in giving; his spirit is poor.

Not the one praying skillfully, bold and loud,
Nor the one whose self boasting, arrogant and proud.

But the man within, although unseen,
A man of conscience and conviction, living clean.

He has a gentle heart of love, by which his faith is fueled,
And by God’s Holy Word his spirit ruled.

His work is not for praise, recognition or advance,
His gifts only known by given chance.

This worshipper’s life, often judged and despised,
He wishes he were loved as much as criticized.

Not at all complicated, a simple woman, simple man,
Hard to figure to the world, they just don’t understand.

Suffers in quiet unknowingly, amongst his friends,
He’s the last to even ask, for a hand to lend.

He looks to God to raise him up, from being low to the ground,
Seeks daily to only hear the appointed trumpet sound.

Seeks not his own, always bearing his own shame,
But boldly proclaims the rugged cross, in God’s Holy name.

True worship lies herewith, in the heart and soul within,
God seeks such hearts of true wordhippers to worship Him.

Where true worship lies, is in Spirit and Truth,
The love of God is the true worshipper’s living proof.

John 4:23
But a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth, for the Father is seeking such as these to worship Him.
 Where True Worship Lies

Copyright © Lovie Divine | Year Posted 2023
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Remembering the 80's

I was a young mother of three darling little girls in the 1980’s, but thanks to TV, and a new invention called a video recorder, these are things that stand out in my mind:

Thriller by Michael Jackson, especially the music video, as none of us had ever seen a music video yet. I do believe, this man was the first to think along this line.

Tina Turner turned out Private Dancer, and What’s Love Got To Do With It? And I readily got it.
Footloose released Dancing in the Streets, and we all sang it in the car, it reduced many a baby fit.

I had a red 1980’s Mustang with T-tops, so the rest of the world got to hear my babies singing it too.
No movies in the car, but we were on our way home to watch Pretty Pony, in blue.

Christmas was awful, as women and men were pushing, slapping, and stamping each other at the mall.
All fighting over which one would adopt the yarn-haired, plain, kind of ugly Cabbage Patch doll.

The saving grace was the movie “A Christmas Story” with the kid who looked silly as a big round rabbit.
Remember “You’ll shoot your eye out?”  Watching that movie has become al Christmas habit.

Leg warmers came out in the spring, and a term we had never heard called workout clothes.
Exercise guru Jane Fonda’s videos were sold for millions, making Vietnam Veterans act out in droves.

Barbie was sporting the sluttiest length dresses, glitzy jewelry, and thigh-high leather boots.
Her hair was spiked into the biggest fattest curls ever combed out by a beautician in cahoots.

The men were wearing jewelry and sometimes an earring in one ear, even Ken had one.
The Ghost Busters, Jem, Transformers, Prince, and Michael Jackson’s Thriller made the 80’s rather fun!


Written 10-14-2018 	    Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner  	Contest:  Remembering the 80’s
Form: Rhyme

Bench Warmer

The Bench Warmers! 

I Always confused 
About the ladders we called 
I wonder, where things went wrong 
I'm thinking thinking 
I keep asking myself 
Where are the sensitive young adults? 
So saddened the future leaders Are now the future robbers
If I could asked
Where does it started? 
All around it is from the grassroots 
Our class Reps are the yam beetles
Our school and departmental presidents
Are now the maize weevils 
Our so called honourables
Are just the bench warmers 
They are not 
Ambassadors of this nation 
They just destroy layers
The so called senators
Are just the noise makers 
They are termites that destroyed treasures. 

® © 20/7/17. Abdul Wakeel "Young Writer"  All right reserved..     I'm a writer of progress..
Form:

Premium Member Experienced Female Mechanic Goes On a Man Hunt

I'm searching for a new man.
			(My lemon quit on me.)
			I'm a discerning seeker.
			(The smallest dent, I'll see!)

			I want a younger fellow;
			(Low mileage is a must.)
			Required is great get-up-and-go
			(an engine with no rust).

			He should desire me in his lap.
			(Seat warmers feel so good.)
			He's gotta be in tiptop shape.
			(I'll know what's under the hood!)

			Low-maintenance, I value.
			(oil changes quarterly)
			He must look good and make me proud.
			(Buffed shine, I love to see.)
					
			Trustworthiness, I so desire.
			(Don't like those tow truck calls!)
			He must always keep pace with me.
			(Don't want a thing that stalls.)

April 1, 2017--entered in Brian Strand's April 2017 Premier Contest
Form: Quatrain

Bells and Whistles

We mostly stick with basics
When we make a major buy,
So recommended bells and whistles
Seem to pass us by.

Yet today we took possession
Of our brand-new Subaru
And to get new safety features,
We were forced to upgrade, too.

For the first time, we’ve a moon roof
We can open for some air,
Which I think I will enjoy, although
I didn’t think I’d care.

We have fog lights and a camera
To provide a view behind
And both seat and wiper warmers, 
Which in winter I won’t mind.

There are sensors that start beeping
If you drift from here to there
And the visors have extenders
To reduce the threat of glare.

So I wonder if to basics
This will make me bid farewells
For I think I can get used to
All these whistles and these bells!
car
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member A Girls View of the 1980's

I will go back in time to the 1980's when I was still a young girl,
         loved watching the movie Flash dance;
                 then, leaping in a Footloose trance,
                          and with hope took a hip hop chance.
Yes, even back then although much was happening I took a twirl,
        brother just played his PacMan game;
                John Lennon was murdered- oh shame,
                         and Michael Jackson was the name.
In my room-  with leg warmers and a boombox blaring I would whirl,
         oh, the challenger and crew lost;
                Mount Helen erupts with a cost,
                           wore ray sunglasses in the frost.
ET, Thriller and then moon walking with My Little Pony-   I swirl
         oh, Rubik's Cube my brother's thing;
                 to my childhood I wished to cling,
                          and with Whitney Houston to sing.

________________________________
November 5, 2018


Poetry/Rhyme/A Girls View of the 1980's
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1082-891-01
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the contest, Remembering the 1980's
sponsor, Michelle Faulkner

Third Place
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Not Hand In Glove

I love Mittens; they're so warm and cosy.
When harsh winds blow, that makes cheeks rosy
Thick woollen mittens do the trick
These are the hand warmers my hands pick.

Just slip your hand inside the mitt
The opening is like a slit
With a thumb at the side
Which your thumb will comfortably slide.

Mittens are so easy to wear
No way fussy gloves can compare,
Fingers can freely wiggle,
In mittens, you do not have to jiggle

Your fingers, one by one,
Like some,
Who's hands prefer gloves.

My hands like to feel free,
Gloves are too restricting for me,
It takes time to take them off
Gloves are worn mainly by toffs.

Hands of toffs are not smitten
Wearing casual, cosy mittens,
We use our hands every day
So they're entitled to have their say,

Mittens, Mittens, every time
Hands think mittens are divine,
Casual, warm, and so cosy,
When harsh winds blow, that makes
Cheeks rosy




31.12.2022
Form: Rhyme

Just the Usual

Spring has long taken off
its Bermuda shorts.
Hawaiian shirts are left
on tree-lines to fade
under a red-faced sun.
If there are worms in the dry earth
the Robins cannot reach them,
and now scramble after
bugs on baking walls.
No one complains
except the English
and polar bears.
Hardship in America
is just called climate.
In Gentlemen's Clubs
strippers
have turned-off the stage lights,
sweat flop
cannot hold a slippery dollar.
Motel ice-machines
have succumbed to heatstroke
and only dispense
a crunchy tepid drool.
Global warmers pant
for cold beers.
Armageddon is near,
but in pats of Alaska, 
summer
is just called
a milder shade of winter.

Premium Member Must Be A Carnival

I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.
—Groucho Marx

Adventure is just bad planning.
—Roald Amundsen

Must Be A Carnival

Lady, what did you see
advertised? Boat leaves the dock.
Your apparel, a shock. 

Going cruis’n…cruis’n you say.
No time
to be lose’n.

Lady, did you pack light? …for
romantic nights. Take a peek
out the window. It’s after dark.

Tourists, look a bit screwy,
you’re near. Must be a Carnival,
it’s not.

This ship is a swing’n.
Everyone’s going out
for some drink’n.

You weren’t expecting
hot chocolate. Your Summer dress
blow’n in Alaskan winds.

The cold wrapping your legs
sans warmers. Your sandals
flopping upon the deck.

Lady, people are staring.
Have you beamed aboard?
Did someone blindfold you?

Were you buffaloed? Petunia,
are you dense? Pretense,
that you are at ease.

“I meant to dress this way.”
or perhaps it was a dare.
Daring for sure.

Lady, the ship looks a bit
lopsided,
with you.

Premium Member Stevie's Song

This is not a desirable write but an unforgettable narrative.
When I first heard Stevie Wonder's song about being born in
Little Rock and having a childhood sweetheart, I immediately
thought about my own childhood sweetheart. The song title
was,  'I was made to love her'.

I was born in a little community called Mattson.
She was born in the big city of Memphis.
Our relationship was not like Stevie's.

I do not recall ever holding her hand, and
the possibilities were hard to understand.
Sweetheart doesn't always mean
satisfying, touching, and mutuality.

From start to finish, it seemed we were always
worlds apart. We met because she occasionally visited
her grandparents who lived near me and my folks.
Some childhood heart warmers are just that, and
are never meant to proceed beyond into adulthood.

Stevie's song title, "I Was Made To Love Her",
could not apply to my childhood sweetheart.
Destiny often calls for a different drum beat.
We went our separate ways both emotionally and
physically, and I found the real love of my life.  I'm
happy to say that our hearts have been sweet toward
each other for more than 50 years.
Form: Narrative

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