Short Forty One Poems
Short Forty One Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Forty One by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Forty One by length and keyword.
Grandma, the tortoise,
lived hundred forty one years
she witnessed many
animals generations
died at the San Diego Zoo
My Anniversary Today, August 17
Married forty-one years ago today…
the unspoken poem therein
writes itself…
English writer Jane Austen -
Reading was a thing she could get lost in.
Never married; died at forty-one.
With romance novels, her readers' hearts she won.
shortlist... thirty-three
add eight... forty-one... if right
nineteen need checking
for indeed some well done
amended might easily win
forty-one today
still the summer of your life. . .
our happy hearts proud
Copyright © 2018 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Published 2018 in "Haiku, Senryu & Tanka Too" via wattpad.com
James chapter four, verse four..
Matthew chapter six verse twenty four
Gospel of John chapter six verses
Forty one and forty two.'
Well He knew of humans, in Him alone is
Help to be found..For He Is from Eternal
To Eternal.)
Isaiah chapter two verses seventeen
Unto twenty two.)
FOR MY BELOVED VIETNAM
Oh my beloved Vietnam for forty one years of suffering
You are deserved better oh my country of amazing
Together we all can bring democracy, freedom and prosperity to our homeland
Let's fight the dictatorship and tomorrow will be victory, it's our demand
Tr?n Minh Hi?n Hien Tran Orlando April 7, 2016
Age forty -one this month is a chill
For brother who’s not over the hill
So he won’t seem unfit
Got a total face lift
Now he’s looking like a roasted grill
---------
Fictional dedication to my older brother
The Perfect Limerick Contest of Andrea Dietrich
forty one years ago you blessed us with your birth
now today as we gather to bid you a tearful goodbye
God seemed fit to suddenly take you from this earth
although for your mom we try to be brave
i know we cant help but cry
but randy we will see you again
when we meet you in heaven in the sweet by and by
R.I,P randy powell beloved son and brother and nephew and cousin and and friend
My glass ball works in reverse
No future do I see. But
from the past it will recall
things not known to me
My father’s great grandfather
Back in eighteen forty one
Was of the landed gentry
Never did we know
So now I gaze at the glass
Seeking out with google eyes,
Finding whence I came, in my
far and distant past
Sponsor Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
Contest Name "CRYSTAL BALL"
Margaret Foster Sept. 2011
Wake up, Wake up
You who slumber and sleep
Wake up
Return whence you came
Jarring, dissonant
The ram's horn bleats
thirty, forty, one-hundred
unencumbered blasts
A simple device, no frills
the breath of a ram
caught in a thicket
magnified through its horn
It is the voice of Abraham
The cry of Sarah
The breathing heart of Isaac
~ It is the cry of a Jew
It’s nine forty one a.m. I’m on the computer
The sunlight covers the city this morning
While playing solitaire I paused and looked out the window
And there she was taking her morning walk
She did not see me but I smiled knowing how secure
And tranquil she appeared
It’s already seventy nine degrees here in the valley
So she has a parasol to keep her cool and she’s
Strolling with a slow gate so she’s even cooler
Then she knows
I reached level forty-one no probs,
And won the game, but had sobs,
So that that just failing was fobs,
If I determined not to join the slobs.
So the next time I reached it, had bobs,
Because it felt wrong to veer from your hobs,
But I failed the level at the last post, robs,
Since I couldn’t merge victory with my everyday disability, lobs,
So the third game after that first success, probs,
I let myself win again so my brother had gobs.
Another June ...
Underneath the same sun,
Much like the last forty
And now its forty-one
Forty-one long years ...
Below the same sky,
The finches are still here
And somehow, so am I
To see the zinnia
Come into full bloom,
To see the sunset
Longer does it loom
To hang wet laundry
Flapping in the breeze,
Where goes a bumble bee
Buzzing 'round my knees
Another June ...
Come and gone so slow,
Still, I am not sad ...
To see her finally go.
Memories sharpen with hastening years…
Sand-box and shovel and toys
And tree-forts and pranks, and my Sunday-school thanks,
Little boy yearnings and joys.
Later, Tom Sawyer’s the would-be Don Juan,
Highways, and one-night hotels.
Cheap beer at the bar. And an unlucky star
Lighting those furnished room hells.
Finally, faces of long-ago friends
Focus, recede and return;
One dead and some wed…souvenirs in my head.
Brilliant memories burn
Sweeter than incense, within the mind’s urn.