Short Tender Age Poems
Short Tender Age Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Tender Age by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Tender Age by length and keyword.
MOM AND DAD STILL HOLD HANDS
AT TENDER AGE 92
WATCH THE PIT FIRE
NOTHING MORE TO DO
BUT SITTING IN THOSE
OLD ROCKING CHAIR'S
Your golden heart,
sets others apart.
Your gentle way,
shall never stray.
From the other side,
our worlds collide.
Your nature divine,
which is hard to find.
For your tender age,
you are quite the sage.
Fourteen a tender age,
Teenage angst the rage,
And parents are so stupid
Yet fourteen more years go by
And oh, my, my!
How much it seems they've learned
Our diary jokes of old,
You can truely be told,
Now we wished we'd burned.
In the tender age of “little girl”
she became an adult, a little mama.
Never one to whine,
not prone to drama,
She was the older sister.
She gave the wheel a whirl.
For my oldest daughter --
she knows what it is about.
Oct 6 2011 Charles Henderson
Today's the day of your birth
The day your presence graced the earth
The day your smile blessed the world
But don't you ever let that light go out.
I wish you to blossom day by day
And not a thing to block your way
I hope your every dream comes true
Eighteen is such a tender age
Form:
Dark arts were her stage
From a tender age
She could conjure up a beast
From out of thin air
Cross her if you dare
And upon your bones she'll feast
She steals from the grave
For bones she does crave
She is someone you should dread
She rides through the night
Such a ghostly sight
With the pale moon overhead
8-23-2022
So cute so cute like a teddy wool
Curly hair soft tender age but you are not fool
You are the earth precious gem while
Because you adore always with smile
Playing with teddy in a grassy land elbow
You look colorful in the rainbow
Everyone glean goes in childhood
You beauty is like an angel not factitious
And you are in everyone’s eye precious
8/6/2016
As a child, you are the only man I wanted.
The father I never knew.
The thought.
It aches to lose you at such a tender age.
The unknowning.
It hurts so much not to understand.
Why ? Is the question , I am asking.
Why was you taken from me ?
Why was you the one fated to die, on that day ?
I guess death will always remain the mystery of life.
To mer mortals anyway.
Form:
A hearty bowl of chicken soup
was set before the lad
at a delicate, tender age
by his doting mom and dad
Into the thick broth
the lad plunged his spoon
Hot steam rose up
raced through the room
The lad inhaled
his face turned bright
The soup was warmer
than the light
Which filled the room
as the lad he ate
the hearty broth
that love creates
Women in my family
Born and raised in patriarchy
Sentenced to bitterness
Speaking less to apologies.
Women in my family
Silenced from a tender age
Loud in ignorance
No one is up for the change.
Women in my family
I wish they could see
Homophobia is a disease
They should quit judging me.
14 June 2022
Contest name: Women in my family
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
My dear Donald Trump
At your tender age
you shouldn't be bumped
into early retirement, and so
I want you in my new Cabinet, although
to your unique talents the position must fit...
Therefore, after mulling things over a bit
There's an idea that makes perfect sense
A new, complementary position to old 'Defense'
~I hereby appoint you my 'Secretary of Offense'
The tender age I once knew,
Yet so far in my memory,
It still holds true.
Like a child wanting to explore,
What really goes on behind love's door.
The tenderness, oh how fast it fades,
For you see, you have only moments to waste.
Soon you find yourself lonely and bored,
Hiding behind love's door.
Wanting to know, but afraid to explore,
When you hear a knock at your door.
The wind rage furious
Howling and blowing madly
Tree swayed clinging tight
Her leaves flew away
Carried by the mighty wind
Plucked off untimely
How ruthless the wind
Taking away her green leaves
At their tender age
Now that storm has passed
The sun is shining brightly
A new hope is born
The lone tree stand tall
Bare and naked stripped of leaves
Basking in the sun
It was a lingering goodbye
for anchor moon
after a religious embrace.
I bid farewell
in the chilling night
for a song of separation.
Where the beginning ends
into a house of distillation.
Blasphemy, where did you find
the anatomy of truth ? Mortality
demands a long
journey of tender age in prayers of sprouts.
The eloquence of dictionary
expects the price of hoofs
to stay with otherness.
Satish Verma
It haunts me to think
that you would die for your ideals
at such a tender age
thinking you are
intellectually superior
and in many ways you were,
but Sophie,
it is such a waste to die so young
for what?
Your offspring could have
carried the flame
continued 'the white rose'
in all its purity and
ideological splendor
but you are right, off course,
even in death and thereafter
Mitt Gott kannst Du alles.
My five words are: Pain, Enough, Nine, Remember, Beautiful
I remember my past,
Bits and pieces floating through my mind.
I remember the pain,
Of being alone,
I remember the pain,
The beautiful, heart wrenching pain
Of a broken heart,
At the tender age of nine,
I lost what I believed was mine.
I guess I just wasn’t wise enough,
To see past your toxic lies.
for the "five word challenge" contest
06/03/16
An old-fashioned modern Jew
He was brilliant, unique
Weaving the strands of tradition
Into best-selling novels sleek
A Navy man, aboard a WW2 mine-sweep
Mr. Wouk loved letters, his country, and
Talmudic wisdom, from which his works drew deep
Herman Wouk, the prolific novelist and
lifelong student of the Talmud, has
passed on to his Maker today, at the
tender age of 103. May he rest in peace...
At such a tender age
my feelings, i refused to gauge
the controversial love mirage
of a little sage.
From Genesis to nemesis she remained queen
in my heart which all love with keen
while seeking to be next of kin.
Her price i paid
through patience and pain
insult and hate-rain,
but her heart, i won with style.
Chrissie is that gal i love so.
her haters calls her sow,
my life, my soul.
Ye old man can never show
What it’s like to let things go
For he of tender age will say
“I need all that, I want today”
Then take it now and never return
I’ll pray for you one day you’ll learn
But this is not the way it went
We have never earned what we have spent
Still, we want what we cannot
The further we reach, we take the lot
Has all of this been just for greed?
That egregious monster we all now feed.
I cling to thy soft source of
strength,
touching her tender tip: a terrific
tap,
I held unto its her helm for
health,
while sleeping... I get a soothing
sap.
A mother's milk so mild,
in tender age... a sweet succor,
for every charming & cheerful
child
to grow without sickness' sore.
Crying kids crave this cute cup
filled with soothing sweetness,
Smiling kids have got a top up...
a fill of a mother's cool kindness.
At this tender age I can see a picture perfect future
That shines like diamonds I only see in picture
I can visualize that path to stardom
But I fear I might leave my own home
A thousand mile is really far away
But I’ll pursue my dream anyway
Nothing and nobody could stop me
Cause I am now what I want to be.
A thousand bucks is a lot of cash
Don’t you think I deserve a sash?
I think I gotta give up crochet
For it’s time to make my very own cachet.
Form:
She smiles with flower laden hair
While he tells her that shes marvelous, fair
In her eyes, such surprise
Yes its there
Such a tender age of seventeen
The things that she has not yet seen
Put aside, It will hide
Shes just a teen
He takes her hand, pulls her near
she cant tell if its love or fear
A gift forsaken, innocence taken
She sheds a tear
A sneeky trick he does condone
To leave her there all alone
A girl deflowered, a boy empowered
A baby on her own
Form:
spicy you tell me
when A B C to be learned
French I was born in Africa
doing my best to please
a world with no understanding of empty bellies
as we pelted stones on mules giving us their last ride to explode for the worms to come in
I learned spanish with the help of a bed shared at tender age of teenage
spicy spicy too easy on your soul
mine to destroy your phantom dreams of flavor as you have to learn to read between the lines of suffering and your alms changing nothing.
Fifty years ago today, on this National Holiday,
I was busy laboring away..
At the tender age of twenty-two God blessed
me with a son, Matthew..
Heaven opened up above and brought a baby boy to love..
All mothers know that special bond, the first birth, that number one..
I watched him grow from boy to man and gradually released my hand..
The years have passed much too swiftly.
My boy to man is now age fifty!!
My only son, my greatest blessing. A mother's pride is worth professing..
My niece Schades while just now
on video call
Said something to me so very profound
way beyond her tender age and year's
Why is it we are always continuously
trying to prove ourselves to one another
Why is that and what does that mean
Aren't we family after all
Surely we are way beyond that having
to explain or try
And I don't mean that in a bad way
It's only bad surely if we have to explain
Because that in essence surely means
Family doesn't really matter at all