It just flows and ebbs along it seems
One day passion rises like a torrent
Another it just trickles like mountain streams
Sometimes times love can just be bumpy
Like a boat ride would be at times
Other times it can be fast and furious
Just like when the nearby church bell chimes
But love can be a wonderment
To be with us all our days
And have that some special in your life
Just like the love song says
As we ride the rivers waters
Metaphorically speaking, at least that’s a thought
And make the most of what we have
Love is free, it’s never bought
Like a river love in endless
Will run and run and run
At least it will if you make it work
Full of feeling and lots of fun
So next time you pass a river or stream
Just think about the water and what it can represent
Because nothing brings more pleasure into your life
Than what these four words mean in their content
So always remember that
Never let it fade away
Like the ever flowing river
Love will always be there every day
Now I really have no concerns
if you think I may be nuts
If I finally owned a business
I would call it Rough as Guts
I'm happy with my own standards
someone else's perfection it's not my go
For years a fear to experiment
when self esteem was low
Confidence on the rise since mid thirties
as an owner builder several houses I have built
There maybe a wall or two that leans a little bit
So What! The Leaning Tower of Pisa I have no self guilt
Playing musical instruments started in mid fifties
eight in all I finally learnt to play a joyous journey had begun
When I play guitar and sing I may fluff a chord or two
So What ! Audience and me together are having lots of fun
Just recently began some illustrations for my poems
as an extra to provide some humorous cheer
I'm certainly no Picasso, Van Gogh or Toulouse Lautrec
So What !My drawings make some people laugh and I've not cut off an ear
We all have so much untapped talent
because of fear we often never try
Me. I'll keep on seeking mind expansion
until the day I finally die
Poet's itch !! I just know I gotta scratch
out in writing all these verses that I hatch
I must admit from poetry I'm getting lots of fun
but sometimes not much else is getting done
A strong desire to self publish another book
this poet's itch has got me caught, sinker line and hook
Sometimes there are words that come together when I give the head a shake
Gotta water garden probably talk to plants in rhyme, from poet's itch I still don't take a break
I'd want to be a mammal, 'cause that's just what I am
I think I am quite certain - I don't wanna be a clam!
Since I have to choose, I must pick the best one
If I pick correctly, I'll have lots of fun
I think I'll choose my favorite, which is a very unique creature
However, I don't mind: there's a reason why it'll feature!
Maned wolves are my choice, for one, 'cause it would make me a lot taller
Soon I'll be just like them soon, then I'll say, "This is baller!"
I'd live in South America, eat fruits, and run around
And then when I'm tired, I'll sleep safe and sound
POTD is often filled with sadness
Not often is there joy and gladness
Not much laughter fills this world
Little humour gets unfurled
Little gratitude for what one has
Woe is me I'm lost and sad alas
Lets have some days of poetic jokes
Lots of fun filled jolly pokes
Great medicine comes from laughter
Lifts the spirit for hours long after
POTD sometimes filled with glee
Are there others or is this invitation only me
Perhaps at least one day a month a Sunday
to be reserved for a POTD humour fun day
Jackie Gleason, known as “the great one,”
When “The Honeymooners” brought lots of fun!
“One of these days...POW! Right in the kisser,”
To his wife, Alice, he'd scream to dismiss her!
I got over it when I realize that
It was not going to happen.
Cap guns, bee bee guns,
red wagons, choo choo trains,
But never a bike.
A nice warm shelter,
Security from frets and fears,
Plenty of good healthy food,
And one big lovely family,
But never a bike.
On a beautiful red two-wheeler,
Smiling and riding in the wind.
This was my childhood dream,
But in reality, never a bike.
I rolled vehicle tires,
Pretending them to be cars.
Black or white-walled tires
Were lots of fun with my friends,
But for me, never was there a bike.
ghost with a happy heart
did not want to frighten with a start
he whispered into a person’s ear
to alert them that he was near
this startled a few too
who thought that ghosts always start with boo
he did not want to frighten them
but rather, wanted to befriend
ghost with a happy heart
liked to lie down next to people at night
some of empathetic ones would wake up with a start
but scream when they saw his ghostly sight
he finally decided to only speak to the little ones
most could see him and thought he was lots of fun
he played checkers with them inside their room
and sometimes showed them his awesome zoom
Take out the trash,
it's so rude to bash
someone who deeply cares,
showing you the way out;
you must listen to wisdom...
before you start rocking
that baby in your lap.
Kids who do horrible things
greet rage into their kingdom,
digging their own grave.
Hanging out late past one,
getting drunk on cheap wine
and come home shaking
is bad for a beauty queen.
Earn your crown,
keep your grace, get noticed
for your loveliness,
don't live out harmful fantasies;
there are many dreams to chase.
Daddy is on the way home,
he'll put you in a corner
to count the length of hours
without computer and phone:
deep silence and a tale of horror
to remind you of obedience.
It's the age to have lots of fun,
not to mess around with boys;
you must earn your crown,
every single rule applies:
never following the crowd,
make mom and dad proud.
Earn your crown, aspire to glory;
wasting life is not realizing dreams,
tomorrow can wait, write your story:
nothing rewards more than memories.
Love is like a River
It just flows and ebbs along it seems
One day passion rises like a torrent
Another it just trickles like mountain streams
Sometimes times love can just be bumpy
Like a boat ride would be at times
Other times it can be fast and furious
Just like when the nearby church bell chimes
But love can be a wonderment
To be with us all our days
And have that some special in your life
Just like the love song says
As we ride the rivers waters
Metaphorically speaking, at least that’s a thought
And make the most of what we have
Love is free, it’s never bought
Like a river love in endless
Will run and run and run
At least it will if you make it work
Full of feeling and lots of fun
So next time you pass a river or stream
Just think about the water and what it can represent
Because nothing brings more pleasure into your life
Than what these three words mean in their content
My brother wrote a story
Based on childhood, when we went
To the Catskills for the summer;
Those were joyous times we spent.
In his telling, though, he mentioned
“Night patrol,” which caught me short.
I’d forgotten all about it,
Something memory did thwart.
On the weekends, when the fathers
(Who remained at home for work)
Traveled up to see their families,
What awaited was a perk.
For at night, in the casino,
(Like a clubhouse party space)
There was music, booze and dancing;
Lots of fun was taking place.
All the children, unattended,
Stayed inside the bungalows
While some older teens on “night patrol”
Strode up and down the rows.
Everything was walking distance,
So if something was amiss,
Like a crying baby or a toddler
Needing mommy’s kiss
Night patrol came to the rescue,
Someone fetching dad or mom,
While another night patroller
Stayed and kept the kiddies calm.
Those were different times, for sure;
Doors were unlocked and not a soul
Ever worried ‘bout a problem,
Knowing there was night patrol.
Waddle with me in a downpour of rain
Singing in a symphonious refrain
Jumping in puddles, splashing everyone
Simply because we will have lots of fun.
We'll fluff up our feathers, inhale fresh air
Twist and shake until we have no breath there
Because we are smarties, we have it cracked
And expertly do a ducky class act.
One two and then quack, one two and then splash
Allow alluring eyelashes to flash
Look to the left and then look to the right
Dancing and prancing from morning to night.
Then we can dream elating ducky dreams
In the wondrous world of fantasy themes
Arriving there, surely one can't do wrong
Waddling to the tune of a ducky song.
To be a good grandma, who me?
What do I see?
Through rose-hued glasses
or molasses?
For when the kids are very small
to them, I’m tall,
I’m lots of fun;
but comes, I’m done.
Like a giraffe, I must stretch my neck,
for little peck,
gain perspective,
retrospective.
I’m wandering
and pondering,
what did I give
great-progeny to help them live,
be wise, feel loved;
of God beloved?
Fall in each arm;
hope my prayers hold them, keep from harm,
Make skies of blue,
little askew.
When youth is through,
will they be good grandparents, too?
looking back to when I was a lad
They said times were hard, They said things were bad.
Picking up tatties, the pulling of peas
Coming back home with scratched grimy knees.
Screwing the Beetroot, yes that is right
Removing the tops from morning till night.
You couldn't cut the tops off, that made them bleed
Keeping your eye out for the sharp stinging weed.
Finger nails were always full of mud
Scrubbing hands would do no good.
Summer break were still lots of fun
When working the fields were almost done.
We didn't have computers, four channels of TV
Top of the pops were the highlights for me.
Kicking the football out on the street
A clip around the ear from the bobby on the beat.
Looking back it wasn't that bad
Lots of fond memories when I was a lad.
Holidays were over it was back to the grind
Wondering what lessons the teachers had in mind.
I didn't mind maths and history was great
The adventures we made up me and my best mate.
Now that I'm older looking back realise
My whole life's been an adventure through this pair of eyes.
In the thoughts I have of us
We sure have lots of fun
Thoughts of us together
Thoughts of us as one
And in my wildest dreams, I've had
Big ones where snowstorms reigned,
Hot ones where fireplaces roared
And we added to the flames
But take away the snowstorms
Take away the flames
Take away what passion comes
When calling out our names
And what's left is what's important
What matters most, above
The physical, the sensual,
What matters most? The love
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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.