death, loss, sad,
by Alice Ringberg |
To my sister Marcie
You were the epitome of a true Southern lady.
Your hospitality reigned warm and generous
as a summer's day, guiding you the consummate hostess.
You played life's roles with grace and compassion.
Strength and dignity kept you anchored and
confidence validated your presence.
You embraced family and friends in a circle of love
giving hugs magically lifting spirits with your smile
binding us to you for a lifetime.
The gray mist of illness vanishes softening
your features in blessed peace.
In the distance a church bell tolls,
golden music transports your soul to heaven.
Tears stain my face.
by Doris Culverhouse |
Mrs. Sara Kendrick
Despises vegetables mixed by forks
She has the title poetess
The mostess and gracious hostess!
Mom I was just being humorous!! You know I love you!
by Funom Makama |
abuse, addiction, character, corruption, silly, women,
Always flirts with disaster because she’s doom’s mistress
the power to enchant, hallucinate and control she possess
for dinner, she invites the legions of man’s captivity and slavery,
feasting to her records of conquer. What a hostess!
In awe of her highness,
she's the poisonous weapon and master manipulator
love, submission and tenderness, she falsely confess
with an intentional touch seemingly careless
ruining the victim to sustain her prowess
Her tricks, smoothness, lust and passion please avoid
or join her miserable congress
and suffer all the pain and embarrassing mess
by Mama Bear |
We meet for cards every week
Some times we win, even the meek
The competition is only for fun
We laugh and joke...everyone
The hostess is our lovely lady Sue
She is willing to go the mile for you
Her home is ours for the night
Everyone is considered to be all right
Strangers come and become a friend
The fun and games never end
How fortunate can we be to belong
We certainly can not be wrong
To love this woman who is so giving
She has given a lot of people a reason for living
No one else can do for you
What is given us by wonderful Sue
by Paula Swanson |
My love for you rests gently,
with whispered words unspoken.
My words, poetic tokens,
I offer to you purely.
Within this letter, sweetly,
emotions have awoken,
that bind our souls unbroken,
with velvet bonds completely.
I sing with your every touch.
Yet, die, when it is you leave.
We joined as one, from the start,
the moment our lips did brush.
Forever I will believe,
we live in each others heart.
For the contest: Sentimental Love Letters
Hostess: Audrey Carey
by jai Garg |
Lady Spider weaving her web again;
Powerful stories surfing on the net.
Hostess - protecting anchors around
Trail Blazer, accosting melodic sound.
Wonder now, what traps she spins.
Boomerang, those frailed legs wantonly pin.
Hideous grips, Neo Geometric moves,
Tempting shots, another day, type cast hooves.
True DNA, we ought to meet,
Face to face on grass luscious green;
Fencing brainstorm, Vedic games:
Who lost and who reigns supreme.
Mark words; the destiny song sings,
Limpid Plangent the oasis rings:
Grasshoppers play their fiddle well.
She spider fries her tale: and it sells.
by Robert Pettit |
While Judge Bradley Stevens was on a plane to Chicago,
there would be a delightful, but ditsy blonde he got to know.
A new hostess named Joan was on her first flight.
She was awkward and clumsy, and didn’t do her job right.
However, Judge Stevens found Joan quite a delight.
He thought Joan should be the better half of his life,
so Bradley took Joan’s hand and she became his wife.
Despite all the ups and downs, love still prevailed.
By many television watchers, this program was hailed
Based on the 1950‘s television sitcom “I Married Joan“
I thank both the Internet Movie Database and You Tube for information I
obtained to write this poem.
by Norman Purvis |
What a surprise!
A party. Shouts and cries.
Tagging all you want to come.
We will have such fun.
Carol is the hostess.
With the mostess.
Warmth and love.
She makes you feel.
At home, fine and real.
Dancing, singing, a game or two.
Read your latest, poem , yes do.
When it's all over.
Those not tagged.
Like me and you.
by Reason A. Poteet |
11th grade, grief, jobs, loss, love,
Love's winds were at their crest
when you lost your job.
We did our part; God did the rest;
then our home was robbed.
The winds blew raw; love passed the test.
When the autumn wind is kind
it blows you to my lips;
Winter's wind can bite and grind,
yet our kiss is not eclipsed.
All year long, love's on our mind.
Springtime winds can bless or curse
as true love's flag we hoist.
Through good times and through worse,
in summer's hurricane, rejoice,
day by day, in love immersed.
September 5, 2019
contest: Write the Poem You Have Always Wanted to Write Poetry Contest
hostess: Caren Krutsinger