Rogers Poems - Poems about Rogers

May we be blessed to teach our children about love and to the words of Mr. Rogers keep returning… By giving our children the chance in life to practice what they’re learning. ...

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Couldn't pay the rent, could you Mary? Back out on the street, dearest Mary. Winter's in the air/once a girl with pretty hair, And the days are shorter now, my sweet Mary. Where will you go, Mary Rogers? Parks can be so cold, Mary Rogers. Out into the night/shadows everywhere a fright, (Tell me) where will you...

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For Tom Woody...er, Thomas Woodward. They say imitation is the purest form of flattery! <3 Thank you, Mary I heard a tale today about Mary Roger's Her story broke my heart and made me cry. Sometimes life's too cruel/ but there's ought that we can do But pray for the lost souls like Mary Rogers. I hope you will...

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*Had to bring this one back. Like my Poe poem, this one follows me wherever I go. It is my favorite lyric that I've written thus far. It is loosely based on a real person and deals with the issues of mental illness and homelessness. To bring it up to date, a fresh audio was...

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when i was a sage would want to take advantage of poems i manage while being a sage would write my poems page by page which was latest rage with capacity poems had much tenacity for sagacity had a head with bone (Bonehead) either against wall would stone or leave me alone when he was a priest together puzzle had pieced he would be a beast had been annoyed horrible hemorrhoid was...

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tiny creature Roger guarded a white albino squirrel she had been chased away from the tribe we took her inside and fed her she thrived under our tutelage Rogers’s Squirrel...

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Samuel Rogers 'ITALY'    ___   ___   |   |  |   |   |   |  |   |      piacevole   |   |  |   |                         ---                 ====((==---                       ))---                      ((                     ))                    ((                      ))                 (_PASTA_)...

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Some people call me Kenny Because of my resemblance to Mr. Rogers Wish I had his enormous piles of dough I'd sure be a happy old codger Methinks they mean before his facelift At least that's what I hope they meant It made him look like a real different person Not as charming in any event So I'll take it that's what they...

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Aaron Rogers has lost his touch which doesn't bother me too much His team's record now is 3-4 with many more losses likely in store League MVP two years running this season for Rogers they've come gunning No longer the toast of 'Packer-town' ...

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As a comic book artist, his look was quite frail until Rogers then took a powerful serum. Bad fellows now fear him. He fights crime now. No writing a book! May 31, 2022 for Robert James Liguori's Captain America Poetry Contest...

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Steven Rogers was born in New York in nineteen twenty, a sweet boy. A comic book artist, born to poor Irish immigrants, their pride and joy. Wanted to join the military and fight Nazis when he was twenty-one. He was little, too scrawny, he lacked muscles. “Just hand me a gun!” Comic book writers Jack Kirby and Joe...

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center>ROY ROGERS Roy Rogers on Trigger his horse Was a regular tour de force He made it his quest To clean up the West Then end with a love song of course 2nd May 2022 High Noon poetry contest Sponsor - Joseph May...

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I see someone I love, in everyone I meet The wellspring eternal —its blessings complete (Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)...

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There are so many wonderful ways, To describe you on any given day. So, each letter is given a few words, Expressing exactly who you are; From the bottom of my heart. Marvelous Miracle Amazingly Artistic Dazzling Dancer Immensely Involved Superb Sister Observant One Noticeably Natty Radiant Ray Outgoing Optimist Gracious Girl Enthusiastic Entertainer Reliable Role-Model Social Star...

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GINGER ROGERS AND FRED ASTAIRE If Jesus Christ were a dancer, He would have danced like Fred Astaire around the room with Ginger Rogers. He'd have danced on the air with Ginger because he was a gentleman, and his passion was like the shepherd boy on the Grecian Urn that Keats wrote about who was forever perpetually young and loving; forever wrapped in a...

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