Love Poems About House or House Love Poems

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Poem Details | by Wren Rushing |
Categories: house, light, love,

Lighthouse On The Shore

There is a lady all dressed in light, who stands above the jagged shore at night. To guide the sailing ships to safer seas and beg the wicked storms for calmer breeze. She ever shines her light across the bay, in hopeful search for love that sailed away. He left the land with plans to bring back gold, to ask her hand to wed, the story's told. When his ship met with tempest gales, the waves ripped the hull, wind stripped the sails. The lady waits at night for him on shore, as he still lays with gold on ocean floor. Sometimes you see her lonely light afar, it shines in the sky like a distant star. 12/16/18

Poem Details | by Danielle White |
Categories: devotion, faith, holiday, inspirationalhouse, god, heart, old, wife, god, heart, house, love, old,

Mysterious Ways: A True Christmas Story

A true story, based on family oral tradition
from the oldest part of the city of Bern,
capitol of Switzerland, where my mother was
born and raised, in the Nydegghoff)

He lighted the candle with a quivering hand,
his overcoat seeming to weigh down the old man.
He paused in the aisle to genuflect,
and wondered if God knew his heart was a wreck.

He found a pew and got to his knees,
hands clasped together, he sent out his pleas.
He is old and he's tired, now he's alone,
his wife died last Spring, now his house wasn't home.

They'd been blessed with one son, he'd died in the war,
and now there was nothing for him to live for.
He prayed until his knee pain was great,
then sat back in the pew and tried not to shake.

The cathedral was beautiful; he loved the stained glass,
but, oh, they brought memories of Sundays past.
How could he make it through Christmas alone
in a house that was empty, no longer a home?

The kitchen was silent and cold as a tomb,
but her scent lingered on in their modest bedroom.
He said one last prayer, then rose to his feet,
genuflecting again, he went out on the street.

He walked home near blindly, not even aware
of the snow that was landing on his shoulders and hair.
He was cold inside, his heart like a stone,
and he felt completely and utterly alone.

He turned down his street, saw his porch light's glow,
and only then realized it had started to snow.
He opened his gate, thought of making some soup,
but froze in his tracks at the sight on the stoop.

On his porch sat a basket, the old wicker kind,
he thought for a moment, he was losing his mind.
Inside the basket that sat on his mat,
were three tiny kittens and one momma cat.

What a pitiful sight, so cold and so thin,
he scooped up the basket and hurried them in.
He found some canned tuna and warmed up some milk,
gently petting the babies, whose fur was like silk.

He never discovered who left those cats there,
but, as his love grew, he no longer cared.
His wife had loved cats and this comforted him,
as they slept on his head, or tucked under his chin.

The kittens grew quickly, as they're wont to do,
amused by their antics, his love grew and grew.
There was laughter and joy 'til the end of his days,
for God works, as you know, in mysterious ways.

Poem Details | by Lawrence Sharp |
Categories: love,

Seven Things Saved From The Burning House

My head’n’eck will be saved,
it is where everything else exists,
not just my hair, though that's also okay.

3, 4
My arms, right (3) and left (4),
I'll need them for heavy lifting,
and probably some other stuff too.

5, 6
My legs, neither has a keener number,
they love to run
and I love them to run me around.

My torso, you have to keep the torso,
I'd look a damn fool
with arms, legs, head’n’eck weirdly joined
without a torso to keep them from arguing.

Before I'd even started on things 2 - 7,
I would expect to have saved
a heathen's prayer
to Him/Her/Them,
That which I do not know,
a prayer that I may succeed 
in saving things 2 - 7,
so that I might see you again.

14th February 2019
For Seven Things Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger

Poem Details | by Ken Carroll |
Categories: beautiful, love, ocean,

House by the sea

In our house by the sea
the gulls fall silent
the gulf winds have exhausted
their supply of salty scent
we grow languid 
our eyes close with fatigue
my head upon her bosom
my sweetest friend
is trembling

In our house by the sea
never remove your arms from my neck
or shy away your lovely face
embrace and kiss me endlessly
let the hours be lazy and sweet
flowing like the warm southern wind
as we gaze upon the purple sash of sunset
entwined like serpents in battle
soothed by the avid tide and eternal surf

Poem Details | by Yanny Widjanarko |
Categories: life, thank you, uplifting, house, old, fruit, house, life, love, old,

A Book of Soul for The Heartwarmer

One individual called "she" stepped into the sheets of a life story
Sheets that used to be occupied
She walked back and stopped at a chapter which tell the story of an obsolete chamber
A space which stands for behalf of the memory and wounds

A diorama played by shadow
A story with no beginning nor end
They've been there with decent backgrounds and decent light spectrum but called gray
The view was frozen, the chatter was muted, and that feels fell into the melancholy

Those with the outstretched hands which too high to be reached
Those with the self existence but too blind to be seen 
They abandoned as a figure of reserves without knowing the essence of a solace

And that individual creature went on her way back to the labyrinth of time

This time someone seized by the story of a root baste
Those roots were heart in shape and the hue carved a warmth, but once howled a bitterness
This chapter tells the story of a lush tree with the fruit of love
Fruits that contain the complexity of love, passion and a place to berth

And the fruit of love revealed its story to someone

Those who hide behind their false mannerism had carved their name on her shoulder
Those who have offered their hearts and bent on their knees 
Those who play fire in a lust, fell into a seek
But the love that she wants still unable to cover the part of this story

From the fruit of love to the sheet's of light

This chapter tells the story of an old house with extensive bed of flowers
This house represented the aesthetics, peace and harmony
A house which brings relief, spaciousness and joy
In that house she knelt, release all her mess
To the house the journey was anchored

In every sketches that have been through
None could live without the presence of others too

Obsolete chamber, lush love tree, beautiful bed flowered old house
Those who were involved in each story of the bulkhead of life
Those who were crawling along and came from different angles of infinity
Those who were instantly filled the pieces of shoot and became the shoot

They are the perfect gift for the imperfect souls
Not as a complement nor as a reserves
Yet as the major part of the heartwarming life story

Poem Details | by Richard Lamoureux |
Categories: hope, i love you, loss, pain,

Humpty Dumpty House

A home
The one he promised you
That white picket fence
Light flooded rooms
A swing on a tree in the front yard

He promised
I'm sure he did
He promised
To fill it with laughter
It was where you were both supposed to dream
The gathering place of love
Of family
Of friends
yet from the beginning 
It was a place of pretend
A dark fairy tale 
Wrapped in a pretty shell
In perfectly beautiful lines
Curving away from you

Then the cracks appeared
Spreading with his lies
You so desperately wanted to trust those eyes
Thinking he was different from other guys
Not wanting to see beyond his disguise

No amount of renovations
Can repair the cracks
The essence of you under attack
A beautiful dream painted black
You can't 
You won't 
Put it together again
Your house 
Your home that place of pain

Helpless you watch it crumble
Forced to walk away from it all
The cracks too many it has to fall
You have your answers
You hold your head tall
You see a future beyond shattered wall

Still you wonder
Will you one day find
Your happily ever after
Will the dreams you hold ever matter
Will your tears turn to laughter

For you
Fairy tales are not enough
You deserve a foundation made of better stuff
Beyond your broken
You find your dream
God answers
Both our prayers
He gives you to me

Poem Details | by GeorgeKenneth Martin |
Categories: childhood, daughter, death, family, inspirational, loss, song-house, baby, god, me, baby, god, house, love, me, i love you,

A Childs Prayer - God We Need To Talk

Tonight as my baby girl started to pray
She said God it's 8 O'Clock, 
And God We need to talk.
She said daddy help me pray, 
And daddy bow your head,
As we knelt beside her bed
she said God can you hear me?
Mommy always said you'd hear me,
If I would learn to pray, 
And that you would show me the way.

Well God I don't understand
Why you took my mommy away.
Daddy always says i'll understand, 
When I grow up some day.
She said God, you need your son
Well I need my mommy to,
And I know that my daddy, 
Would be happier with mommy
Cause daddy talks to her, 
And mommy's not even there.

God can you please,
Give my mommy wings, 
So she can come to see us.
She always kept our house clean, 
And God I know, 
She keeps your house clean to.
And God I miss mommy's big hugs, 
Daddy says your son gives hugs to.
So I know if my mommy had wings, 
She could hug me and daddy.

Well God I want to thank you,
For being there to listen, 
And God think about what I said.
And tell mommy that I love her, 
And God I love you to.
Oh just one more thing God, 
Help my daddy stop crying.
Thank you God, Amen, 
Then she turned to me and said,
Goodnight daddy, I love you.

I was still on my knees, 
Beside my little girls bed, 
With tears running from my eyes.
I gave my baby a goodnight kiss, 
And said sweet dreams baby girl.
Then I went to my room, 
And kissed my wife's picture, 
And with tears in my eyes,
I knelt down to pray, 
I said God, We need to talk.

Poem Details | by Mary Montgomery |
Categories: faithhouse, house, love, may,

Love yourself

This my advice to self.
Stop lying to yourself.
The smiles betray the hurt that runs to deep.
You need to stand tall
Stop becoming bitter even if its what your name means.
Always love,  make it your motto.
Let this hatred of self-doubt and self direct lies disappear.
Because the hate will get you every time.
Always love yourself.
How can you tell this to everyone but yourself.
Loosen up and dance, feel the summer’s breeze.
God will forgive you if you  let go.
Remember you dreams because they have died  in your cave of reality, of every day.
Stop suffocating  your spirit.
Let it run free with your dreams and believe.
Time won’t stand still for you.
We may always be destined to remember but never can we always go back and change time.
Step forward and give yourself  room to sometimes fail.
Life is about mistakes and despair, otherwise how will you ever learn.
Be an example not an exception.
If you stop hurting yourself with this doubt
Then you can stop the hurt for your children..
They are your future.
You have to learn to hurt and get over it.
This is God’s blessing.
So You may be able to apprecatie  what is giving to you.
Mary , why do you hide and hurt.
Have you forgotten the love that fills your life everyday.
It may not be money, a nice house or a car.
But it is a house full of laughter.
Hugs and kisses at night.
Gratitude for being a wonderful mother and wife.
You let this hatred of doubt become your greatest fear.
It’s evilness has slowly killed your courage.
Believe in your faith and remember this is all part of God’s grander plan.
Forgive yourself for not being able to resolve life’s problems.
Instead emerge full of  strength that guides you to always love yourself.

Poem Details | by Brenda McGrath |
Categories: freedom, house, humorous, love, relationship, wife,

Being Single Has Its Perks

I was a good wife that kept a spotless house,
And cooked good food each day for my dear spouse.
When he mowed the lawn in the summer heat,
I would bring him a cool drink, just to be sweet.

After thirty years we have parted ways.
Now I have a new trail in which to blaze.
I’m finding out that being single has its perks.
I’m in charge now, and that’s how it works!

I don’t have to clean the house if I’m not inclined,
Or cook every day, working off my behind!
I can go out to dinner whenever I choose.
I don’t have to watch a man on the couch snooze!

I can run around the house naked as a jaybird,
And go without makeup, which in the heat is preferred.
Yes, the single life has given me a taste of freedom.
My new motto in life is “love ‘em and leave ‘em.”


Poem Details | by Rhona McFerran |
Categories: dark, love hurts, mystery, sad love, scary,

Spooky: Lady of the House Pantoum

In the dark and shaded glen
amid foreboding trees
in the place where a house had been
there never comes a breeze

Amid foreboding trees
blood cries out from the earth
there never comes a breeze
she weeps for all she's worth

Blood cries out from the earth
where she became his wife
she weeps for all she's worth
for there she took his life

Where she became his wife
she suffered but overcame
for there she took his life
but she was not to blame

She suffered but overcame
the lady of the house waits still
but she was not to blame
it was against her will

The lady of the house waits still
haunting hearth amid the rubble
it was against her will
the beginning of her trouble

Haunting hearth amid the rubble
she paces and she broods 
the beginning of her trouble
where once her love was wooed

She paces and she broods 
in the place where a house had been
where once her love was wooed
in the dark and shaded glen

Poem Details | by Gregory R Barden |
Categories: analogy, growth, introspection, love, metaphor, wisdom,

This Old House

I - this vacant building, dilapidated by years and cold inadvertence.

    Obscurities dance in my eaves, ravenous belfry bats, scouring dusk -

      Notions, plans, dreams, impulses - the detritus that bloats their bellies.

    Scrawny, gnarled trees about me, bony-fingered limbs clawing, scraping,

Biased, ragged people who assume to know, whose perspectives bleed -

Careless, avaricious purposes, spirits gutted like my stark, graffitied walls.

    YOU shall redeem me.douse my scaffolding, ignite these timbers..

      Ravage my whole with conflagration, toss the cooling ashes windward!

    My foundation runs deeper than these trees' tangled

Raise again, my walls - loving, formidable, joyous, and you.INSIDE.

Written and submitted on January 25, 2019
For the "Ten Lines Ten Words, Free Verse 1" Poetry Contest
Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.

Poem Details | by John Crowe |
Categories: depression, divorce, heartbreak, home, love, marriage, sorrow,

My House

This house is a facade 
What I show to the world 
There is nothing left from 
When you were my girl 

This house is not a home 
Now it's my own prison 
Doing life without you 
My own private perdition 

This house is a monument 
To the love I destroyed 
With my petty jealousy 
And being paranoid 

This house is a mausoleum 
It's where I go to hide 
There's life here no longer 
Because I'm dead inside

Authors Note:
My friend Judy Dunbar and I pick a title and write 
a poem on itCheck out Judy Dunbar for her version.
This was a 20 minute time limit

Poem Details | by Ken Carroll |
Categories: candy, cute love, food, love,

The Gingerbread House

Come and live with me
be my spouse
savoring chocolate kisses
in our own gingerbread house.

With four walls
a roof, a door, a window and swing
a pure culinary delight
painted with the sweetest of icings!

We will add more rooms
scented with ginger delight
add love stories
lovely as a ginger bite!

Built by the candy cane rainbow
there will be a vanilla side
and a chocolate side to show
such a lovely home for the holidays!

You and I in our gingerbread home
on a street of peppermint
in the front yard a gummy drop gnome
with pineapple face and blueberry eyes...

Poem Details | by lavanya ramamurthi |
Categories: celebration, happiness, joy, life, love, peace,


HOUSE-a lovely place to share affection.
that is the root from where relation grows.
one day, a fine time it will become a tree.
a wonderful garden at the front and backside of house.
with colorful flowers at front 
and sweet fruits and healthy vegetables at back.
a white stony pebbles way which,
leads to the garden park,
which is the place of peace.
a swing in the middle of garden,
keeps us thinking about the ups and downs of life.
house fully painted with white,
indicates the peace.
glassy windows which helps us to 
watch the outside world, inside the house.
curtains,sofa,bed,etc., everything is of white
which always tells us to be peace
and to maintain silence and patience.
peace and patience will increase our love,
which makes our relation ship strong and more stronger.
and that's what is the aim of my dream house.

Poem Details | by Grace EunSong Lee |
Categories: love

The Road to Your House

Traced backwards through dreams gone—
Saw a cobblestone path creasing palm of land
Slowly, images ripened beneath memory’s dawn
Faded, pattering feet stroking stone into sand.


NOTICE: I'd like hard-core critiques, please!

Poem Details | by John Rhinem |
Categories: hope, life, love, god, heart, god, heart, strength,

In The House Of My Dear Father


How lovely is Your tabernacle, O Lord of host! My soul longs, yes, even faints for

The courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God *

Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where

She may lay her young----even Your alters, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.

Blessed are those who dwell in Your house; they will still be praising YouSelah ~

Blessed is the one whose strength is in You, whose heart is set on pilgrimage.

As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a spring; the rain also

Covers it with poolsThey go from strength to strength; each one appears before

God in ZionO Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob! Selah *

O God, behold our shield, and look upon the face of Your anointedFor a day

In Your courts is better than a thousandI would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of

My God, then to dwell in the tents of wickednessFor the Lord God is a sun and shield

The Lord will give grace and glory; no good thing will He withhold from those

Who walk uprightlyO Lord of hosts, blessed are they whom trust in You *


....“Psalm 84 * `O My Soul`” ~

Poem Details | by Jim Pemberton |
Categories: brother, daughter, dedication, devotion, faith, family, father, forgiveness, friendship, happiness, hope, husband, inspirational, life, love, mother, religion, seasons, sister, teen, uplifting, urban, wife, love, may,

Did The Lord Build Your House

Did The Lord Build Your House? This house of ours is “plain.” But is still standing. We’re “simple folks...” By many people’s understanding… We may not have much of what is “socially appealing”… But we have love in our hearts And this is a good feeling! We may not be “wrapped up” in much of this world’s entertainment. But we seek God’s peace and a desire for contentment. We, as a family, have one purpose and “calling” in mind. To seek God’s ways of being merciful and kind… Each day we pray with much thankfulness in our hearts… For this is where happiness and gratitude starts! We’re thankful to the Lord for his unfailing grace… And for keeping us together in this special place… We’re blessed to have a God who is truly worth finding. His word in our lives is precious and worth memorizing! “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain that build it!” God must rule and reign… So his love can completely fill it! By Jim Pemberton

Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: absence, america, art, books, business, celebration, celebrity, christmas, city, culture, dedication, depression, family, farewell, farm, feelings, film, freedom, goodbye, growing up, history, home, house, i love you, image, life, lost, money, music, native american, new york, paradise, patriotic, people, places, political, pride, today, tribute, truth, usa, world,

young American days

                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 



Poem Details | by Rick Rucker |
Categories: love,

A House Is Not A Home Without You

A House Is Not A Home Without You By Rick Rucker The carpets and the drapes are new, Still, something urgent is missing: YOU! Now that we have a place, I long always to see your face, The desire to kiss you before you sleep, And again as sunlight, into our bedroom, will creep, I am not complaining, just stating a fact, You are what I have long lacked, A friend that shares my secret fears, As you have shared my past tears, I love you more than Life, And would proudly have you as my Wife, Our place is ready, to become a home, From which we will not have to roam, It is what I have prayed for, from Above, A place for us to share our Love!

Poem Details | by Dan Kearley |
Categories: husband, lost love, wife, house, words, me, house, me, morning,

Empty House-Collab

With the key to a brand new reality She gave me an invitation to goodbye Slipping my way into a new insanity Left alone all I could think to do was cry This empty house is no longer a home Now that you've gone,and left me here all alone Every morning I just wake up an cry Thinking of all those nights you layed right by my side This big 'ole world is just to busy for me Now that your off somewhere flying free I just can't go on living this way All I have left is these last words to say This empty house is no longer a home Now that you've gone,and left me here all alone Every morning I just wake up an cry Thinking of all those nights you layed right by my side Though now our lives carry their own seperate tune I can hear yours play as I stare at the moon The memories you left me bring tears to my eyes Always leaving me walking in dark cloudy skies
1-9-13 Collab With John Wulf and Dan Kearley *If anyone finds these words somewhere in a song please tell me!Something about it just came out to easy?(On my part that is) Ha,ha...* Thanks :o)

Poem Details | by Terrell Martin |
Categories: childhood, family, grandfather, grandmother, growing up, house, me, night, old, home, home, house, love, me, night, old, sky,

Memories Made to Ponder

It was a tin-roof wooden house standing 
Across the red brick cobblestone street 
Adjacent to a wide open field full
Of shady live oak and sweet smelling tangerine trees where 
My father’s boyhood home was nestled  
Quietly in his home town

Often times we’d travel to visit 
The grandparents still living there 
In that Americana corner of our lives.
We didn’t know much of anything at all except 
The sky was blue, love was true and we 
Youngsters were the apples of the old folk’s eyes.

We’d sit for hours in white wicker rocking chairs
I helped paint one time with newspaper on the floor 
And a horsehair brush grandma gave me 
To teach me that painting needn’t be a lesson 
In staying between the lines “Sometimes,” she’d say,
“It’s better to let the paint flow 
And speak for itself in time.” 

And granddad liked to watch the sky – especially at night 
When stars were burning bright and would point towards Polaris and say:
“Heaven’s over that a-way.”  And during daylight hours 
When storm clouds appeared and we could hear 
Thunder and lightning all around, he’d laugh and dance 
As if the circus were coming to town 

We watched mocking birds and blue jays flying in and out 
Of all the tree top branches and leaves singing 
Their love making lullabies to us and one another and then
As quickly as they arrived, 
Disappeared into the wind 
It seems we’re not much different 
Rather family, foe or friend 
Accordingly, the old house still stands today 
But the dear old folks have slipped away 
Perhaps to the place once pointed to
High above that night sky view 
Where comets roam and grandpa liked to call “Up yonder,”  
Leaving me with thoughts of gold 
And memories made to ponder        

Poem Details | by Debbie Knapp |
Categories: life, people, life, house, work, nice, house, life, love, money, nice, work,

Everything and Nothing

Everything and Nothing
A life of riley one would sayI bet you have everything and nothing to wantYou have it made, you’re so lucky, no worries or cares, your bills all paidYou don’t even have to work; I don’t know why you do! 
Must be nice having it all handed to youHow did you get so lucky? I bet you buy whatever you want whenever you wantIf you want something I bet you just have him get it for you or buy it yourself
Sure it must be nice having everythingNo care, no worries, what do you think? A life of riley this is notNothings free and worries there always areLucky you say but how do you know? What is handed to me, what bills are paid you think to know.
I don’t have to work yet here I am! You collect money for things all the while I tell you I am over my budgetBeing so lucky, having no bills or worries; have you thought this budget through? What about that credit card I need to get paid off! Yes an extra day of work will help with that yet lucky you say I am.
 You say I have everything, must be niceMy home is beautiful indeedA gated community with guards at all timesGround keepers manicure the yard and a house keeper inside as wellA car you would love to haveAt what price and how much of your life would you give? Others judge you thinking they know all there is to know.
How much do you spend, you do have a budget regardless what they thinkYou work because you need tooThe house what can you afford to buy for it? The house keeper takes up money and you have learned to think in dollars! The cute car, the one they would love to have who picked it? Things aren’t always what they seem!
Sometimes you can have everything and nothing at all                                             ~Debbie Knapp

Poem Details | by Robert L. Hinshaw |
Categories: family, house, family, dog, home, dog, family, home, house, love, may, little sister,

A Happy Home

I've been musing lately about things that really make a home complete.
One thing for sure - a happy home is one with laughter and love replete!
'Twill be a place with affectionate parents who dearly love each other,
And blessed by a couple of kids - a little sister and her big brother!

A home ain't a home unless you have a faithful dog and inscrutable cat,
And a stoop on which to greet folks whereon lies a welcoming mat!
A grandfather clock to intone the inexorable march of time is needed,
And a fireplace with a cozy fire by which to reminisce unimpeded!

There'll be a library of classic tales with yellowed and dog-eared pages,
And a Bible that is read, having been handed down through the ages!
Displayed on the fireplace mantel will be pictures of folks from the past -
Folks from the family tree who set standards for honor unsurpassed!

There'll be a white picket fence and a trellis with climbing yellow roses,
And a huge front porch with a swing on which to enjoy pleasant dozes!
At the kitchen table, the family dines, discusses the day and grace is said.
Later the kids say nightly prayers before being tucked in their featherbed!

Marks to measure the kid's height mar the wall nigh the kitchen door.
Happy holidays and birthdays are celebrated that will add to family lore!
Though the dog and kids may create havoc as about the house they roam,
If I may quote Edgar Guest, "It takes a heap o' livin' to make a house a home!"

Robert LHinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Poem Details | by Courtney Courtney |
Categories: beauty, character, death, death of a friend, depression, desire, faith, family, farewell, fear, god, goodbye, grave, happy, heaven, holiday, home, house, husband, image, inspiration, inspirational, leaving, loneliness, lonely, longing, lost love, love, marriage, men, miss you, missing, missing you, pain, passion, patriotic, prayer,

Last Kiss

Open your eyes to the ever turning skies 
I want to here with me through the night 
My heart yearns into your soul 
Burning as if newly lit coal 
I bravely submerg the embers 
That the time I have can be spent with you 
And I remember each kiss every moment 
I was caught in your love that for just this day I remember 
So what happened was a chance for your love 
A time that I kept in a locket tied with a kiss 
 I wanted you to feel, to love, to slumber 
And to awake in my arms with that times kept bliss 
I lay silient in an umber

Poem Details | by Ravindra K Kapoor |
Categories: song-lyricfriend, dance, house, song, music, dance, friend, house, leaving, love, may, music, song,

A Folk Song from India

'Folk Songs Themes Are Same In Every Language'

A Folk Song from India

O my Sakhi,* bring the Dholak*,      we would sing a song,
O friend, my love is coming,	                 from a far-off city,
While bringing the Dholak,*         bring also the   Mazeera,*
We would sing a song and        we would dance  together.

The Jhoola*  is ready,		       on the branch of  Mango tree,
On the beat of Dholak, 	we would swing high touching the sky,
O my friend, bring the Dholak*,  we would sing a song together,
O Sakhi* my love is coming,	                         from a far-off city,

O my friend push the swing,                            so high in the sky,
I may see my Sasuma*,                  leaving the house for a while,
The swing is ready,			      on the branch of  Mango tree,
On the beat of Dholak,    we would swing high touching the sky,

O my friend please push the swing,                  so high in the sky,
That I may see, my Nanda,*     also leaving the house for a while,
O Sakhi,  please, increase the swinging,            so high in the sky,
That I may see my Dever* also,      leaving the house for a  while.

O my friend increase the swinging,                     so high in the air,
That I may see my Sasur*too, have to leave the house for a while, 
O my dear Sakhi,* please increase the swinging, so high this time,
That I may see the face of my love,        coming after a long while.

O my friend,            please push the swing   in such a way this time,
That my love may come to me,                     searching his dear wife
Then Sakhi increase the beat and sound of the Dholak,   so much so,
That everyone may feel that   we are singing the  song in full swing,
When you bring the Dholak,*                      bring also the Mazeera,*
We would sing a song and                        we would dance   together.

Kanpur India 22nd Jan2010

Meaning of some Hindi words used

Sakhi* Means =Female friend of a girl or woman
Sasu* Means = Mother-in-law
Sasur* Means= Father-in-law
Nanda* Means= Husband’s sister
Dever* Means= Husband’s brother
Jhoola* Means= A rope cradle or rope swing handing on tree branch 

Dholak* Means= Dholak also known as dholki is a barrel shaped hand drum that is widely used in folk and popular music in IndiaThe dholak has derived its name from Persian language, as it is a diminutive of Dhol.
The dholak is widely used in folk music of villages of India

Poem Details | by Robert L. Hinshaw |
Categories: cute love, humorous,

Overheard On The White House Wall

Overheard by flies on the White House wall

   During Bubba's tete-a-tete with his moll.

      "Order extra salami

         And a tad more pastrami

            Fer my pizza on yer next service call!"

Entry for Andrea Dietrich's Limerick Contest

Poem Details | by Sara Kendrick |
Categories: food, health, love,

The Coffee House

The day he took me to Starbucks I figured I was gaining in luck Then all he did was complain How the coffee wasn't humane It wasn't fit for human comsumption The tasty treat was dry, their gumption In serving such unpalatable treat Oh well, another date now unsweet Starbucks I still love you even though Have to get decaffeinated coffee drink slow
Nathan thanks for the challenge Contest: Coffee House

Poem Details | by Sukmawati Komala |
Categories: love,

The house of love

The house of love

a door
is always open
when I come
and go

search in longing 
my presence

each room
save breath
peace and beauty

in silence
shining clear
the string of words
in beautiful poems

the house of love
full awareness
a true shade

maintain the
existing comfort

don’t move

the house of love

~ (c) Sukmawati Komala
05 May 2013

Poem Details | by Jerica Sanchez |
Categories: boyfriend, care, dedication, devotion, faith, first love, for her, for him, gender, girlfriend, happiness, happy, heart, heaven, home, house, how i feel, humor, husband, i love you, imagination, inspiration, inspirational, kiss, longing, love, marriage, miss you, missing, poems, poetry, romance, romantic, together, words,


When I hear your name
My heart beats faster than usual
It's not that I am ashame
But It's just your name is too special..

Can't control the feelings
When I am with you
Can't stop smiling
When you hold me like you do

When you hug me then
I feel like I'm in heaven
You are a blessing from above
And you are the reason why I loved

I'll promise to love you FOREVERMORE..
And I will cherish you until the end of my borrowed life
And I will keep our precious memories as long as
we see each other in our next life..

Poem Details | by john beharry |
Categories: beautiful, day, feelings, heart, house, innocence, joy, life, lost, love, old, pain, river, smile, sorrow, sun, water, world, youth,

The River Of Life

They walked together side by side -
the old man and the boy
on the bridge across the river
They could have walked thus 
across the river of life
with its eternal flow
I watched them
and thoughts filled my mind
of the un-bridged gap
between their lives

The old man -
with faltering step
he moves slowly on
His life has  been lived
and his house is in order
as he patiently awaits
the call of his maker
What are his thoughts 
at this moment 
as he moves on?

Are they thoughts of pain and sorrow
over some incident in the past
so difficult to bear
that after all these years
the wound is not yet healed?

Are they of someone he loved as a youth
but lost through folly?
Was she beautiful?
Did her eyes sparkle 
like the sunlight 
on the water below?
He looks at the water
sighing deeply
and nods his head

Or is he thinking of the young one at his side
so innocent
so pure
soon to be plunged into a world 
where life rushes madly on?
How shall he fare?
Who will warn him of the pitfalls?

These thoughts plague the old man's mind
and hurt his noble heart
But then he smiles as he remembers
that in his younger days
his eager spirit wanted to taste and feel
the sting of life's joys and sorrows 
by itself

There is no substitute for experience
for though we know we may be hurt
in love or life
yet we walk on toward the very thing
that may hurt us so