Long Wight Poems
Long Wight Poems. Below are the most popular long Wight by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wight poems by poem length and keyword.
*Image of Tennyson Cross, Isle of Wight provided by Pixabay.
Forlorn Hope
Poetic Form: Sonnet
Divined amassed, thinly advance their scope
bloodlines warrant one soul's intended quest
persuades enhanced history, constants hope
pastoral guides sculptors essence is blessed
Readiness spurs insights, smoothing passion
unforeseen tests that fool-hearted, not them
their unbidden stare on death's face, cash in
pushed e'er determined, tensing a rose stem
Unchecked horses, intrepid horsemen burst
barrage relents as foe feared those affirmed
lurked rears castle shadows most accursed
chance lights an afront darken all confirmed
Bold few opinions charged submits warlords
fruition won swords gained Heaven rewards
2021 May 08
*1st Place*
ALL YOURS (May 18): Judged 2021 May 18
~~Brian Strand
*2nd Place*
This or That, Vol 2
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2021 May 13
*HMS checked 10 syllables x 14 lines.
Tee-hee, I'm here again, jus' meef
Wit' dimples shining, chub-chub cheeks
Yous gotsta see my two new teef
(Dough dey be dwibblin' lotsa leaks)
Me hasn't got no udders yet
But dese is purrfect side-by-side
Dey always shiny, white and wet
(And sometimes get my tungy tied)
My bib is stain, dey make me dwizzle
Fwum learnin' how to use 'em wight
And when I talk my essez wizzle
(Toof Fairy brung 'em late one night)
Fer sher can't wait to really use 'em
Cuz mama says dey shine my chin
How I gotsta bite and chew some
Grow more dandies for my gwin
Oh how I wuv dese bwight new tings
And mama wuvs 'em, I can tell
She always waffs and always sings
When I bite daddy ... make him yell!
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Baby Face What's You Thinkin' 2" Poetry Contest, James Edward Lee, Sr, Judge & Sponsor.
(I used photograph number three)
(Revised with new homophone added in. Thanks for the catch, Becca!)
*Wants upon **uh thyme inn uh would, uh vary gneiss prints named Hairy
met inn the missed, hi awn the bow of uh tree- uh ferry named Tarry.
The ferry felt lo, fore he was week, and he was inn knead of sum meet.
He bald, “Whoa is me. Eye cant even stand hear awn my own too feat!
My pour hart is braking, and I’m inn pane. The last thyme that eye eight
was daze ago. Ewe sea, I’m inn uh hays and due naught feel sow grate.
Eye parish and long fore whine and ham. Even bettor wood bee lam!
Butt eye wood settle four uh peace of bred with sum suite bury jam!”
Prints Hairy new he had sum mince, sum Tick Tax that **whir inn the pear
of gnu read genes he war. He took them out and waived them inn the heir.
*“Lickerish to, eye halve write hear!” Prints Hairy tolled the ferry.
“Its naught much, butt pleas dew eat. Later awn, wheel dyne and make marry.”
Prints Hairy placed the ferry Tarry aun his pail ***wight hoarse.
Then aweigh the roil with the ferry hastened aun his homeward coarse.
Awl day long they road and road. ***Wen the ferry started to grown.
Suddenly, from the hoarse, both the man and ferry whir throne.
Hungrily they paste beneath the setting son and threw the knight.
They pressed awn until mourning. Hairy’s residents came inn cite!
Prints Hairy’s wife had supper ready, and she’d maid uh pi.
From udder happiness, the ferry thought that he mite dye!
She *heeded up they’re food four them. They both had groan sew pail!
She listened as the ferry Tarry tolled his tragic tail . . .
of how heed lost his weigh and, four food, had knot won crumb
until her deer spouse rescued hymn. At last, his prints had come!
Written April 10, 2015, using homophones from various lists.
Note: I did not use letters, for example, U for “you” ; they were not on the lists I found.
Neither was “hee” which I was going to use for “he.”
The main list used was The HOMOPHONES LIST of John F Troutman and Joy A Miller
* these are a few more homophones I found on Wikipedia’s list.
** these homophones appear on Homophones.com, perhaps the most comprehensive one.
*** These homophones, perhaps antiquated, are from Suber & Thorpe British English
First came Storm Ciara
On Sunday the ninth of February
She caused total havoc throughout the UK
Heavy rain brought serious flooding
Her gales so strong brought buildings tumbling
Whilst on the Isle of Wight
The most southerly tip of England
Gusts of ninety seven miles per hour
Uncovered a fossil upon earth’s core
A Dinosaur footprint from a Therapod
Who had strolled along this beach
one hundred and thirty million years before
Now in the throes of wind and rain
Another storm
Another name
He’s called Storm Dennis
Another menace
And he has just arrived
Brings heavy rain and gale force winds
I truly hope we all survive
his havoc and devastation
But like Storm Ciara he may unearth
never before seen hidden treasure
Showing even storms leave positive gifts
for us all to enjoy and explore at our leisure
Written 15th February 2020
Contest Strand No 680
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Inspired by Jan Allison's brilliant "Eye Rowed My Hoarse",
top winner of the July 2021 Word Play contest.
I'm knew to this language; it baffles me sew!
With so many mysteries I wish too no -
I came to this country wile seeking warm climb
but I get awl flustered when righting a rime.
Sea, homophones throe me, they drive me inn seine
each weak I fined gnu ones, their such a big pane.
That last couplet had maybe seven ore ate
(I red it allowed butt I cant keep them strait!)
Eyed herd that this language can be vary crewel,
two words sound alike but there meanings are duel.
They say it’s the most daunting language yule find -
two solve this wood take a reel lode off my mined.
If a rose is arose, then wheel call spayed a spade,
let a male be a mail, and a maid be a made.
A horse is a hoarse, but of course, but of coarse,
though the rules of rite spelling are hard to in force.
I've pulled sow much hare out, aye think isle go bawled -
I'm certain I've misspelled sum words eye just scrawled.
Its enough to make even the mightiest feint
but aisle martial my forces and rays no complaint.
If this struck a cord - if you feel up a creak
know you're knot a loan, yore dismay's not unique.
Perhaps it is fête that has shone us assign,
let's bye some pail ail aura glass of wight whine.
And pleas don't dessert me, I so knead ewe they're,
I still wont to learn how two wright with moor flare.
Buy now you've disk hovered I rote this ingest,
if ewe care to try won yourself, bee my guessed!
THE PUSSY CAT AND THE OWL
(With apologies to Edward Lear)
The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a Sealink Hovercraft.
They took some hash and plenty of cash
Wrapped up in a banker’s draft.
The Owl looked up to Telstar above
And played to an electric guitar.
“I’d like to take you to Capri Pussy love,
But the lead wouldn’t reach that far - that far, that far.
But the lead wouldn’t reach that far.”
Pussy said to the Owl, “It’s perfectly foul,
The discords you play on that thing.
But I’d still like to marry - it’s your baby I carry.
We’d better look out for a ring.”
They sailed that night to the Isle of Wight.
The place where the tourist goes.
And there on the quay, a Punk they did see
With ring through the end of his nose.
Owl said, “Do you agree to sell for 5p your ring?”
Said the Punk, “I will not.”
So, unable to wed, they cohabit instead
With a commune at Cowes - in a squat.
They dine on the floor and have yoghurt galore
Which they eat with a white plastic spoon.
Then - with a new partner each, they go down to the beach
And smoke pot by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon.
And smoke pot by the light of the moon.
20th December 2020
Parody of a Famous Poem contest
Sponsor - L Milton Hankins
'Twas a dark and stormy night on that dark and stormy night!
HMS Blunderbuss plied the billowing seas just off the Isle of Wight!
Able Seaman Steer manned the helm when dead ahead he saw the light!
He woke the snoozing Officer of the Deck to apprise him of their plight!
Captain Ironbottom (who happened to be in the 'head') was duly alerted!
He dashed to the bridge in his drawers to ensure that disaster was averted!
"By jove!" he cried, "Her Majesty's ships turn aside for no one, I say!"
He grabbed the radio, "Ahoy there! Turn east 15 degrees! Out of my way!"
From out of the ozone a voice retorted, "Suggest you turn west 15 degrees!
I'll not change course for anyone, so heed my warning if you please!"
"This is Captain Ironbottom of the HMS Blunderbuss!" he thundered back!
"I know the rules of the road! Turn now or I'll see you hung from the rack!"
Able Seaman Steers' eyes grew as large as saucers knowing not what to do!
Communication between the captain and the mysterious light was turning blue!
As the distance narrowed between them, neither would give a nautical mile!
The white-knuckled Officer of the Deck was turning pale with a sickly smile!
"This is Captain Ironbottom again! Are you challenging Her Majesty's might?"
"Yes sir" was the reply, "You see, this is the light house on the Isle of Wight!"
Today the mighty HMS Blunderbuss rusts upon the Isle of Wight's rocky shoal.
Captain Ironbottom faded into oblivion due to the folly of his last patrol!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Sea the wight-capped waives rolling inn the see;
here the howling wynds, wile I’m standing hear,
whale and forme hi waives. Theirs eh jumping wail-
tale upp inn the ayre! This should make gneiss tail
two tel wen eye get holm. Butt now theirs too
blew wales inn wiaves- there water spouts just blue!
Whether getting worse, kneed two sea weather
it's my thyme too lieve since wynd now blows it’s
grate, whiled sounds awl across the see, witch great
allowed and shriek. Could bee, I’m knot aloud
write hear two stay- dew knot want gnus too right,
“Sum man fell inn the see and payed the some
witch cost his life from storms angry whiled which.”
Week legs mite make mi sync and fall; eh weak
wood pass before they fined mi with eh would
bored inn my grippe from roe boat beet and board
bye waives and whild wynds that kame and flue buy.
Eye no, its thyme too lieve, cum back wen aye
cee com, and eye can stay eh wile two sea
wails jump inn waives without the wynd’s whiled whales.
April 7, 2015
~2nd Place~
Contest: Only Homo’s Allowed
Sponsor: Jerry T. Curtis
Judged: 04/30/2015
(Homophones)
Never again to know fresh air,
Combing worms from my matted hair.
No one remains who’d ever care —
Tied to my grave, this lonesome baire.
I must escape the sun’s harsh glare,
Tread carefully down crumbling stair,
Descend into my crypt just there,
Where I sit alone in dark despair.
Upon my ancient worm-eaten chair,
Inside my vaulted charnel house lair,
Such a sad and accursed affair —
Never to rest, always aware.
This kind of death is so unfair:
No converse, no song, no whispered prayer.
A thousand lifetimes in disrepair,
Unattended, solus, solitaire.
Harshest sentence beyond compare,
Caught in this endless undeath snare.
Naught to do but eternity stare —
And comb the damn worms from my hair.
Looking back on my younger days
and in that summer haze
you were the pearl my girl
in my oyster the whole wide world
so many memories
of you me and how we used to be
but of photographs far too few
altho' we did have a laugh a two
now all growing dim and grey
with the fading shades of day
etched in my memory for good
our trips to sunny Spain
and when we went
for a walk in the woods
on the way to the Isle of Wight
the night we were caught
in the freezing rain
no I'm not living in the past
and yet I'll raise a glass
to each and every single day
from over the hills and far away