Short Golden Age Poems
Short Golden Age Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Golden Age by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Golden Age by length and keyword.
Golfing golden-age gentleman gladly gives go ahead-
gilds golf game, gets glory,
goofball glitzy gold digger girlfriend giggles
The crimson hue in the dusk.
A girl with nasturtiums.
And the streets are starting shaking
like dikes.
The sea is tiptoeing.
A picture of a Golden Age.
And of my heart.
In the light of hope, dreams soar high
With unity and strength, we touch the sky
Together we rise, in a new dawn’s gleam
A golden age waits, for us to believe and dream
© daniel miltz
Arthur Rackham the English illustrator*
had drawing at his very core
A leading figure of he 'Golden Age'
of Fairy Tales drawn on a page
*https://www.illustrationhistory.org/artists/arthur-rackham
golden flecks and reflected light
float slowly to the base
caught in hands reaching high
and splash against my face
painting my skin a golder tint
washing cares away
i give them my time to spend
and lay down in their grave
Form:
Eight days and nights of Chanukah
is a little much for me
I've gotten to that 'golden age'
where it's really hard to be
Happy, happy, happy
morning, noon and night
I'd just like to go to sleep
once I light the lights
It's not so bad, I say,
Part of our ride today,
Health and mobility our stage,
To this golden age,
Wake up to say,
"Let's get positive, yah!"
Old power chaps and miss
You have so got this,
No need, negative blip,
Ageing process is our trip!
I am again sinking
in that black and white golden age.
In my own tears,
shed for those I missed to meet.
We share the same genes though,
stronger than time.
I hope one day you get to be a composer, Bob.
For now, walk those heels.
Fearlessly.
Being with you made me hate love ,for i was the happiest with you .
With you i knew no pain like grape vines together we grew .
your eyes like the sky itself,which set my heart ablaze .
Truly this was love in it's prime my wonder years, the golden age .
Form:
What once was my
golden age of youth,
is now my sunset
years of old age.
Am I wiser now?
or just as foolish.
If I pass on what
I have learned
then this old life I
have lived,
was not lived
in vain.
Written 6-10-11
The golden age of both time and space
Between the lines of hate
You're beauty, always embraced
Force feeding loving memories
I swallow, letting go
Remembering his eyes
The eyes of promise, dissolution
He leaves, always, forever
My love, alone but for a second
Blue and brown, the description
Of my past, beloved
once upon a page in time-
the golden age of the five and dime
I looked upon a sky of blue
and suddenly I came to feel
a sense of magic vivid,real
and wondered to myself could it be true?
yet colors fade as pages turn
that none but educated eyes discern
the written words had made it clear
it was I fear...
an imaginary hue.
Form:
Craft the world that be a stage
Vibrant vines in poisoned ivy
Creeping up these walls...
Watermarks pointing towards
Their progression; this thirst
Upon your knees please
Then you can read; except ?
Washing away the taste
A tear to soothe their numb
Release this becoming...
Make-up; lights camera action
That's a wrap; then, fade to black.
Edison bulb
Instine formula
calling bet’s
to the last three
a crazy intense formula
with pimples wild
set up now golden age
it was like a deck of card’s
down to the last three
with a gofey pimple on top
what appears now
what happens now
the last two heads
now he says drink
he wants you gone
YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SPRING
Youth saw me passing by
My wrinkled brow, my twinkling eye
Ignored my smile, my nodding head
Offered merely a glance of dread
That I had noticed youth instead
Of passing like I was not there.
Someday youth you'll know my fears
With pride you'll reach the golden age
And you, I'm sure, will surely rage
Youth did not see your golden years.
Youth saw me passing by --
My wrinkled brow, my twinkling eye
Ignored my smile, my nodding head
Offered merely a glance of dread
That I had noticed youth instead
Of passing by like I was not there.
Someday youth you will know my fears
With pride you'll reach the golden age
And you, I am sure, will surely rage
Youth did not see your golden years.
You and your Road Rage
Should be locked in a cage
Way back in the Stone Age
You blacken the Space Age
Each time you go on a rampage
Won't you please try to gauge
How you impact the teen-aged
You and your Road Rage
Your words are an outrage
Once released, can't be assuaged
They disgrace your 'Golden Age'
You and your Road Rage
The giant blue and green dragonfly,
with its broken wing,
tries madly to escape
its silver cage.
The poor old thing doesn't belie
escape from its sturdy ring
is an impossible reshape
of its once golden age.
I turn away with a sigh,
realizing with a sharp sting,
that I, too, am caught in a dreamscape
of impotent rage.
Image: Chetta Achara
O young!
Do not stop.
Till then you do not cross your aim line,
Getting your aim , likely sun you'll shine.
This is your golden age,
Give up your laze.
You can do now what you want,
Learn hard working from ant.
Which, the tiny body can do work whole day,
Then you, too bigger than that , can't lay.
Make your way and progress on it,
Never stop, o young! Never sit.
When youthful wings have taken flight
and golden age has made her plight
Inside remains our same strong soul
despite the fight that takes its toll
Though outwardly we slowly perish
in our hearts it's God we cherish
Hope stands stout to bring us through
His hallowed love is all we'll pursue
Until faith's sweet and final kiss
ushers us on to eternal bliss
A shallow thinker of little integrity
A sycophant stinker and less empathy
A wanting to return to a golden age
which never existed,
with ludicrous rants that serve to enrage
Catty remarks weird and twisted...
Selflessly she married into a family,
it only makes her more inspiring
She won't hear the sounds of pitter patter,
Kamala, her husband and stepchildren matter!
God called on the 9th of August,
Right on Bernie’s golden age.
To lead him to the heavens,
For standup on the grandest stage.
Bernie’s routine was colossal,
For God created the best.
When God needed His comic,
He laid Bernie’s soul to rest.
God called that weary morning,
And summoned America’s comedian.
He granted a divine promotion,
In becoming heaven’s comedian.
"A house divided against itself...", Marxist know, cannot stand. The scheme, I believe, to sow as much confusion as possible. The world has gone through many ages: The Iron Age of Iron miracles, the Renaissance, when art reached its pinnacle of spirituality...and now, what we have in America, the Golden Age of Stupid -- hopefully more will soon wake-up and see the Light before it is too late.
. for public domain
This Day
From where all our prayers return,
from where our Sweet Lord’s peace resides,
let us all return from there,
someday,
someday.
Where all our mysteries of life,
governed by our sweat and strife,
lose dominion in this Sweet Light,
fade away,
fade away.
From here a golden age will dawn,
where lions spare the new born fawn,
we’ll walk in peace here arm in arm,
this day,
this day.
For my desiring flame of chest
Forget their blame and light of past.
You can’t return the golden Age
Just turn the page, yes, turn the page.
They say we cannot stop the PAIN
That we should fall in feet of Vain
And die like mice in throat of cat
But we're still here, we are not dead.
Those Benedictions are not yours
I saw the Death on jaded horse.
And kiss of Heaven’s for free souls:
For you and me, but not for dolls.