Long Weddings Poems
Long Weddings Poems. Below are the most popular long Weddings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Weddings poems by poem length and keyword.
In the fifties we girls could not wear pants
Unless it was bitter cold, then a temporary grant.
We wore them under our dresses in freezing drool
But had to take them off when we got to school
If you told a girl today she had to wear a dress
She would look at you like you had a nose of watercress
Girls today wear what they want I have to confess
Many do not own a skirt, a jumper or a dress
In the fifties most of us went to church and sat in pews
We were silent knowing that to upset our parent was a lose.
We could sit through weddings and funerals silently.
No one thought to interrupt an adult in 1953.
Today’s child cannot sit silently anywhere without bedding.
Not at school, in church, in a synagogue or at a wedding
Today’s child thinks what they have to say is valuable without fault.
They believe they are on the same level as an adult
In the fifties we kids fought over who laid in the back window
When we went to grandma’s or to church in the Christmas snow.
Today’s child has to be strapped down like an inverted turtle
In the backseat, so the air bag does not “get” them, right Myrtle?
In the fifties students waited for instructions from a teacher
Today’s children interrupt and out-talk even a preacher.
When a teacher commands silence, they ignore her, not nifty.
I wish children respected adults like they did in the fifties.
Satire is a tricky thing
And won’t appeal to half
Of its potential readers,
But the other half will laugh.
The Onion is satirical
And I’m, for sure, a fan,
For it pokes fun of politics
(At least, while it still can).
Like other periodicals,
It focuses on news,
With weddings, deaths and real estate
Attracting many views.
There also is a horoscope
And lots of ads as well,
But none of it is serious,
Which anyone can tell.
It always cracks me up; at times
It makes me laugh out loud,
The humor, though, intended
For a real specific crowd.
I recommend a reading
But I would advise you that
You may not be so enamored
If you sport a MAGA hat.
Framed art and photos on the Johnsons’ wall
depict the beauty of four generations~~
awards, graduations, baptisms, weddings,
holiday scenes, birthday celebrations. . . .
One needs no explanations for these.
The image of two lovely white swans stands out.
Their gracefully curved necks form a complete heart.
Why is this artwork there for all to see?
The golden wedding anniversary reception, planned by
the Johnsons’ grateful children, was unforgettable.
Dozens came with gifts and kind words that night.
The oldest son’s comments were short and sweet.
On behalf of the family, he poetically and movingly
described how those cuddling swans symbolized
their parents, whose deep commitment, based on love,
had sustained them and their family for half a century.
...oooOOO Tears of Gold OOOooo...
Prickling hot glistening tears from the eyes above
Fall in little rivulets round the nose out of pain, thoughts or love
Hot tears roll down the cheeks cooling as they fall
Salty on the lips they pass they don’t stall.
Tears of pain, tears for the dead, tears for the dying
Tears for the newborns the weddings and tears for the sighing.
Tears that roll onto the bared chest with arms open wide
Giving comfort and strength as they try to stem the tide
Tears for the fears unrealised but real
Tears for those lost or that’s how they feel
Tears that flow for those we have not met
They need our tears but they will not know it and yet
They may feel our tears shed for them all
Tears shed out of pity or love they can fall
Tears for the free who think they are not worth it
Tears for the captives that do not deserve it
My tears are falling without knowing why
But the tears that are golden never run dry
They run for the love of all human kind
Wishing and hoping the deserving will find
Some one to bare their chest for them all
And comfort them as their own tears do fall.
One was sunny; one had rain.
One had beer and one champagne.
One had singing by a choir;
One had Dylan to inspire.
One had tender, choked-up vows;
The other, guests more used to bows.
One, a Windsor staid event;
The other had a porch and tent.
Both had salmon, garden peas,
Asparagus and meat and cheese.
For dessert, ‘twas no surprise
That one had tartlets, one had pies.
Both had music going on;
Only one had Elton John
But the other, I attest,
Played dancing songs that were the best.
Though the weddings can’t compare,
Love at both was in the air.
Gazing in each other’s eyes
Were sparks we all could recognize.
Two new couples said “I do”
And one of them was you-know-who.
The other people I do treasure
And their wedding was a pleasure.
Eleanor Rigby and Father McKenzie
Oh, so lonely -- Where do such people come from
They come from all walks of life, from the priesthood
on down to the hangers-on at village churches
And where do they all belong? -- In a desiccated church
where Father McKenzie preaches sermons that no one hears
and Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice thrown at others' weddings,
surely lamenting her own lonely, dreamlike existence...
They belong together, but Church doctrine, frustratingly, keeps them apart
this lonely woman with the happy face, concealing the ache deep inside
and the devoted priest, so determined to look ministerial, to deliver a sermon
for no audience, that no one will hear, that will save no one...
So many lonely people in society today, like Eleanor Rigby
people who come from nowhere, whose contributions go unrecognized
and who return to nowhere, buried along with their names --
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...
August 08,
Eleanor Rigby Who was she Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jerry T. Curtis
I used to hold you in my arms, now Covid says No
I used to kiss you on the lips, this I miss
I used to hold my grandchild she longs my parish arms
I used to shake and high five touchings of hands salutation
Covid doesn't give just takes breaths away
I used to fellowship with my fellow worshipers
Covid tell me now no more gathering
Tells me now how to follow my fellow humans
Government health community says now says must space ourselves
Covid doesn't give just takes breaths away
Standing/walking within 6 feet increments
You wanna be 6 feet apart standing, rather than 6 feet under
If I sneeze you use to say bless you
I guess Covid already kissed us, now you spit out on us
Covid doesn't give just takes breaths away
I used to go to sports games band concerts
I used to attend weddings and funerals
Now it's less important I don't want to dance with Covid
She's a taker away of my breath
Covid doesn't give just takes breaths away
Then after dead what's next we'll touch, embrace the arms of Jesus
You see Covid my breath you can't have it my breath comes from God
6/6/20
©2020
"Fading photographs remind me of moments, of memories,
of people, lost in time trying desperately to hold onto forever."
Quote by_Constance
inherited boxes of old photographs (among other things)
from my mom, grandma and great-grandma
some are colored ... but
a lot are in black and white of my family
and some are vintage old
yellowed, tattered and fading away
love them all
though some of the people
are unknown to me
adore all those fading babies so much
and wish that I knew their names
would love to know who those mothers were
found tons of photographs of my mom
as a baby and little girl
riding her horse and just playing
doing silly things
and some of her as a beautiful young woman
dad said she was the most beautiful girl in the world
my most treasured is mom as a mother
holding me in her arms
have framed that one
dad, gosh, he was nice looking
have none of him as a baby or child
just that handsome guy mom fell in love with
and him doing stuff as the years passed
grandma and grandpa photographs are precious to me
from both sides of my family
and all those beloved uncles and aunts in black and white
at Christmas, Thanksgivings, baby showers
and weddings ... I will never forget you
I hold to my heart images of my brothers and sisters
damaged from when our house burned down
those are footprints on my heart
forever
but, it is the vintage, fading images
that haunt me when I look at them
those smiles frozen in time
those people part of my family but unknown to me
if you are watching from heaven, my dears
my promise to you all is that I will restore
each fading photogragh no matter the cost
or how long it takes ...
To my left it stands weathered by seasons of time
Memories so many, absorbed in it's walls
Even a fire could not deny us of it's history
Ones thinks of the efforts to save this once fine structure
Now ram shackled to ruin, it brings tears to ones eyes
Built just before the Civil War, it hid many a lost soul
Many a storm caressed her wooden frame
Whilst sheltering beasts remained safe from nature's anger
Summertime's were so joyous with barn dances
Even weddings were celebrated within these walls
Sadly economics became it's downfall
My great grandfathers red barn, a shadow of it's former
As you travel through the mid west
There are many eyes like mine, viewing and sharing similar memories
Heirloom events are often solemn occasions
Weddings, high school or college graduations
Grandfathers take sons or grandsons aside
To bequeath his pocket watch with pride
Slowly he'll raise the timepiece to his ear
Pause and listen to the ticking gears
He'll dangle the chain, click cover to open
Reverently hold the beloved token
Peering at crystal face with serious affects
Both mentally count second hand’s ticks
With nod of head, grandfather might relay
Special words of wisdom in his own way
I remember with fondness my own ceremony
Granddad’s advice more valuable than money
“Thing about time sure to help you through...
Is be where you are whatever you do”
Thanking my Granddad, we shook hands
In hindsight I know I did not fully understand
Years swiftly passed with many tick tocks
Today I give my son Granddad’s pocket watch
Original Written Jan. 17, 2016
Revised April 20, 2018
Early Childhood Memory Contest -
By Line Gauthier - Any Rhyme Form - April 24, 2018
First Place