An eighty five year old flower wilted
An eighty five year old flower wilted
She was an angel
Loitering on the other side
Of our balcony
So aged enough to retire
She used to have attire
That will make any one admire
She always had nice things
To talk about and share
Well matching the mindset
Of younger people
Despite her having lived
Decades ahead of them
She was the most sought after female
In the complex
As she had solutions to most of the
Emotional family issues
And she reached out to people
Who, she felt, need her support
Her language is so sophisticated
Not normally expected
From a person of her age
And she never missed to attract children
With her picturesquely narrating incidents
And stories of the past
She was one of those
Rare still-husband-alive
Auspicious women
And hence it was always to the pleasure
Of the hosts
Organizing an propitious occasions
She graced such functions
With her polished presence
Her husband, a retired army man
Matched her well in looks and gait
He kept his audience in rapt attention
Being capable of convincingly addressing
All topics, politics, economics, and
Anything for that matter
The couple together was a delightful watch
As they induced confidence
In senior citizens of both genders
She lost her husband
A decade back
Her prominent presence
Slightly faded
But, she had her say
Both in family and community functions
She could not, any way, win back
Her original position
As the womenfolk
Started ignoring her as inauspicious
Being a widow
Despite falling sick repeatedly
She had her things to say
With number listening to her
Growing thinner and thinner
It was just a tumbling from the bed
That made her get admitted
In hospital for medical care
And it was only a night of struggle
She joined her husband
In their heavenly abode
And this
Eighty five year old flower wilted
poem by Bashyam Narayanan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A Husband...
A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective
A husband should be
Loving and romantic
A husband should be
Patient and understanding
A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry
A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses
A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his
poem by Sarah Holmes

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Husband.
Husband is someone;
You spend most of your life with.
And with him;
You are for years.
My life has become strong;
For my husband is not wrong.
My life has become independent;
For my husband never let me dependent.
My life has become pure;
For my husband had every cure.
My life has become romantic;
For my husband is very aromatic.
My life had a new beginning;
For my husband was nearing.
And the most valuable gift-
My husband has given me;
Are my 2 wonderful and the best kids-
And I thank God,
For the wonderful family he has given me.
poem by Anju Addanki

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tribute to My Husband
As a woman we should take a part
In our family, in our office
But before that, we should learn many things
There is no school to become a good mom or wife
But we learn through our experience
The important thing is
we give a time for our husband
to become a leader
Trust him, he need to be trusted
I give much time for my husband
To consider, to think
So, i can give him back his pride
Then, people can see that he is the real hero
He is a Superman for my son
He is the leader who will save our family
Not me...
I just become someone who support him
While no one there to hold his hands
When he feels his sickness
My Wilted Flower
Your waking dreams
I hear your screams
Of the hour
My wilted flower
All alone
Can’t go home
You must cower
My wilted flower
So much pain
Standing in the rain
You are not of power
My wilted flower
You run away
And there you stay
In the cold rain shower
My wilted flower
Memories of all the hate
Your horrible fate
They no longer tower
My wilted flower
In peace you die
I mustn’t cry
Your last hour
My wilted flower
~2009~
poem by Jennifer Cramer

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Faithful Wife
The faithful wife in the Christ
Obeys her husband's word;
Claims her own authority
By calling her husband, lord.
She will love her husband dearly
As she submits unto his hand,
Teaches younger women so
In this her family stands.
The faithful wife perceives in God
Her husband is given rule;
As he submits unto the Lord
But a rebellious wife is a fool.
poem by Richard Merrell

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Booby Prize Or A Fine Romance? 2
Yesterday I wrote a joke poem,
Booby Prize Or A Fine Romance,
it told the story of how I met my wife,
all those years ago.
Yes, it was at her first husband’s funeral,
and yes a group of us
met a couple weeks later in a coffee bar,
but no it was not the drawing of a straw,
it was that I volunteered,
which I guess was lucky for me,
because on the 12th of September this year
we celebrate our 37th Wedding Anniversary.
Her first husband was a friend,
but he was a womaniser.
He met his dead in a suicide pact
with a fourteen-year-old girl.
He left a wife and two small children,
without a thought or care,
a month before Christmas that year.
Some said I was brave
to take on a ready-made family.
I do not think I was brave,
but very lucky that day.
We have had our ups and downs
like all families do,
but I would not change a bit of it.
The greatest gifts I received that day,
was a family for a lonely life,
and tolerance through trouble and strife.
Therefore, it is with thanks to them,
I am the man I am today.
poem by David Harris

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Husband
I'm looking for a husband, you know the sort of chap
The kind of guy who copes with things and never has a flap
The one who fixes cars and bikes and often mows the lawn
Takes the kids on Sunday hikes while I with hammock yawn
I'm looking for a husband, you know the sort of bloke
Who listens to the things I say and laughs out when I joke
He'll do the Sunday B B Q and carves the Sunday roast
Then gives me a foot massage, that's the thing I like the most
I'm looking for a husband dependable and true
Who likes to have discussions but never will argue
Can sit in friendly silence, and never has to babble
Will make and pour the tea for me and lets me win at scrabble
I'm looking for a husband; I know they're pretty rare
The kind who opens doors for me and lets me have his chair
And earns enough at his travail so we're debt and mortgage free
But doesn't put his work ahead of caring about me
The husband I am looking for might seem quite rare to you
And friends have tried to tell me that in number they are few
But I have hope of finding one I hope he will be free
‘Cause I've been one for forty years, I want one just like me!
poem by Christopher Higginson

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
i Asked God Why
I asked God. Why me I asked god. One day God took my loving husband from me with out let me know what it’s going to happen to me with out him. I started asking why? What I did wrong to deserve this, many questions were in my head all the time. Now I know the answer. God took my husband it is not because I did something wrong, it was my husband time to leave this world. Now two years passed by and I understood that God don’t give you thinks that you’re not able to handle. Now I have an Angel that it’s looking after me all the time to make sure that I do the best every single day. I missed my loving husband but I know he is in a very good place.
poem by Rocio Batir

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At The Cafe Des 2 Moulins
it is right here from this cafe des 2 moulins
where one day she decided to find a way
to make others happy
she is in a quandary
for in here there are always lonely men and women
and even children
she takes note of each of them
a child lonely because he lost his toy car
a woman whose marriage is on the verge of a collapse
and she has nowhere to go
a man whose wife left her for another younger man
they sip coffee here
there gazes as far as the farthest distance of the star
she is a very unhappy woman herself
but for now
she does not care
she finds a way for them to be happy
she found the lost toy, the wife came back to be reunited with the husband
the husband realized that he loved her more
she does not tell what caused her sadness
but she does not really care about herself now
at night she goes to her bed
soundly sleeping after
tomorrow, she will find another lonely soul again
she has become an angel
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Are You a Good Husband?
All married men want to be called a good husband
A good husband is a decent husband
Mr. Husband what you done to deserve this decency?
Has your wife ever referred to you as her good husband?
It is known that the eyes cannot see itself
Unless by reflection. Have you ever asked
Your wife for a performance appraisal
Honey, how did I perform last year?
On a scale of one to ten, one for very poor
Ten for excellent, how did I perform?
Your wife may think you are now on new drugs
If you receive less than six, you need to
Start fence mending before it is too late
A good husband sees his wife as his friend
A nice husband treats his wife as his lover
A decent husband regards his wife as a soul-mate
You should anticipate what your wife
Will need before she makes any request
By the way, have you ever bought a gift
For your wife without an occasion?
Do you have to wait for her birthday?
To inform her that she is very special to you?
Do you have to wait for your wedding anniversary?
To tell her that she is the best thing in your life
When last did you talk to your wife in-laws?
When last did you visit your wife in-laws?
What have you done to be called a good husband?
Ask for performance appraisal on a regular basis
Remember, if you make your wife happy
You will get happiness in return
poem by Julius Babarinsa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You're living in paradise
I'm getting tired of hearing your silly complaints.
You're angry because your husband isn't a saint.
Your husband forgets and leaves the toilet seat up and you think this isn't very nice.
You think you have it bad but you're really living in paradise.
Your husband has a few flaws but in my eyes he's great.
When I tell you about some other husbands, he'll be a man who you 'll appreciate.
I've seen husbands who beat and raped their wives and some husbands who even threatened them with guns.
And you complain about the superficial things your husband has done.
Close to where I live, a man killed his wife and then set her on fire.
Be thankful that your life isn't so dire.
These poor women's lives have been completely destroyed.
And you have the nerve to complain because your husband goes out once a week with the boys.
Before you complain about your husband again, maybe you should think twice.
You think you have it bad but you're really living in paradise.
poem by Randy Johnson

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Company C E O
A company C E O and seen as a success in life
But he beats his children and he beats his wife
And for his young mistress he buys a good time
But these things when you are wealthy are not seen as a crime
That money does speak every language in his case does apply
To be a good husband and father he does not even try
He may not be a good husband and father but that seems okay
As money more about you it seems more does say
Than compassion or kindness or morality can
He is seen as a good and a successful person though an immoral man
Far from a nice person though a millionaire
And that money speaks every language he is all too aware
Far from a good husband and father but never the less
He is a big Corporation C E O and seen as a success.
poem by Francis Duggan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where It Was At Back Then
Husband,
last night I dreamt
they cut off your hands and feet.
Husband,
you whispered to me,
Now we are both incomplete.
Husband,
I held all four
in my arms like sons and daughters.
Husband,
I bent slowly down
and washed them in magical waters.
Husband,
I placed each one
where it belonged on you.
'A miracle,'
you said and we laughed
the laugh of the well-to-do.
poem by Anne Sexton

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Strange but True
Strange man laying in my bed-
Thank you for your attempt to comfort and your kind words you've said.
I mean no offense to you,
right now I just need my husband instead.
Strange man, you are beginning to prick a wound.
Please stop saying you are my husband!
I'm crescendoing, this is all too soon.
I cannot argue that you say you are my husband.
I can only offer my reasons you cannot be.
Strange man I assure you, you are not him.
He's a survivor, a fighter, a faithful family man.
As a matter of fact, in this very moment, I need him so very badly right now.
As a matter of fact, I hope I do offend you-
a coward, a liar claiming you're my husband,
how?
poem by Sarah Hughes

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song. Translated From The Italian
Oh! what is the gain of restless care,
And what is ambitious treasure?
And what are the joys that the modish share,
In their sickly haunts of pleasure?
My husband's repast with delight I spread,
What though 'tis but rustic fare,
May each guardian angel protect his shed,
May contentment and quiet be there.
And may I support my husband's years,
May I soothe his dying pain,
And then may I dry my fast falling tears,
And meet him in Heaven again.
JULY, 1810.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Delaying Tactic...
Dr. Madonna has
a father who is an ex-general of the army
she is married but her husband has a zero sperm count
nevertheless, to save her husband from said predicament she adds,
that her cervix is also damaged based on an infection when she was
still 16.
her father is diagnosed with prostate cancer
stage 3B, and she is not actually that sentimental to entertain
the dance of sorrow,
he is 87 anyway and had lots of women during his
military career, and they are ten children in his wedded life,
and so there is nothing much to
sigh,
she accepts that death is a visitor but this time
it will be a timely one, the host is ready.
her Papa does not mention any possibility of a chemotherapy
or radiation and they seem to understand perfectly their silence
while they were riding that ferry that takes them from the city hospital
to their family home where everybody is waiting for
dinner
' we can go back next year and have a second opinion' her Papa
to break the silence, finally commented.
she nods and
kisses his firm hands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Husband
It is true:
My husband
has never
taken out
the garbage
from our little house
in the suburbs.
My husband
has never
taken our children
out for the night
to trick-or-treating
as I sit
on the porch in a witch hat.
My husband
has never
come home from
a long day
to a special meal
I have prepared
just for him.
My husband
has never
told me he loves me
beside a warm fire
on our honeymoon.
But he will.
poem by Erica Francis

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hera
I am Hera,
And you may know me
As the queen of the gods,
And as Zeus's wife.
Despite what they say about me,
I do not really like my husband,
For he is a real jerk.
I mean, he gives all this
Attention to other women,
And never gives any attention
To me.
It makes me mad,
And, of course, jealous,
Because I only have two children,
And one is a spoiled brat,
And the other walks with a freaking limp!
I mean, maybe I give
My husband to hard of a time,
But, truthfully, I can be reasonable;
And, yes, I am reasonable!
I listen to my husband,
And I am there when he needs me,
And I am there when he has problems.
But, I just wish he wasn't so selfish
And I wish he understood what
The true meaning of marriage was!
Sometimes, I feel like I want
To kill him,
But, of course, I cannot,
Even though my envy
Gets so high,
So I punish him through
Killing his bastard children.
Yes, I have smitten
A few humans in my lifetime,
As my husband smote many
Things in his lifetime,
As well,
And, yes, they were all his children.
I think I have killed so
Many that I have lost count,
But I do know that I killed
Hercules,
Had Paris killed,
Had Hector killed,
Maybe Theseus,
For I cannot remember,
Put my wrath on Jason,
And also my wrath
Onto Medea,
And I have also
Killed many other people.
Heck, I helped Troy
Fall to the ground,
For that is why it is no more,
Just because Paris thought
Aphrodite was more
Beautiful than I was.
I mean, come on,
Aphrodite may be beautiful,
But she is like a prostitute,
Sleeping around all the time,
And having fun while doing it, too.
I, on the other hand, do not
Do that,
For I am loyal to my
Husband, no matter what.
Oh, okay, you have me there;
I did cheat on him
Once in my life,
And I had that awful
Child with the limp,
And man,
I cannot stand it,
For I guess I was punished
By the Fates
For that,
After all.
But, still, I do not sleep
Around like Aphrodite does,
For she is a creep!
Dang, I hate her,
If anything.
So, yes,
Life is pretty
Unhappy with my husband,
But I do manage to trick him
Every once in a while,
For he can easily be seduced,
For he likes who I am
Whenever I come across him,
And I am the master of seduction,
So I take him to bed,
And he does everything I ask of him.
It is ingenious, I know, right?
Yeah, it works,
But life could still be better,
Even though I do have fun with
Trickery every once in a while.
I hope you all enjoy yourselves,
For I have some stuff
That I need to do,
And I will go to it.
Thank you so much,
And it was nice meeting you.
poem by James Roberts

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She Was A Nice Old Lady
Does it really matter one little bit at all
If only her family and her few friends memories of her do recall
She was a nice old lady that much of her I did know
But she did not die easily her end painful and slow
I had not seen her for somewhile but sad am I to say
That this evening one who knew her told me she was buried yesterday
In the flesh she will not be seen walking in the park again
But fond memories of her in those who knew her are destined to remain
Pre-deceased by her husband he died ten years ago
Their only offspring a Granddad in his late fifties the years on him begin to show
To her son she was a good mother and to her husband she was a good wife
A kind and caring person and one who did love life
Since her husband life departed she had lived on her own
She did not have a public profile and she was not well known.
poem by Francis Duggan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Still you believe marriages are heavenly....
Our only daughter is our pride
Graduated in flying colours without a guide
Won a seat in Management, as she so did decide
Went ahead with a programme in marketing side
Her progress in studies was fantastic
Her plans were far stretched and truly futuristic
Her desire was to grow into a woman majestic
Ignoring others comments, even if sarcastic
We thought it was time she be given in marriage
As it is Indian custom to get the daughter married in right age
We came across a family that held a good image
We came to know the family is well knit in traditional cage
The boy, an engineer, working abroad
In our interaction we discover in him a mind broad
We thought he is the boy and requires no further prod
There was no reason for us to doubt any fraud
With friends and relatives around, marriage was solemnized
All got only good things to say and all were pleased
With the bridegroom and his family that further released
Us of all anxieties and worries, we thoroughly eased
We happily saw off our daughter to the foreign soil,
Where her husband serves and which is peaceful with no turmoil
We kept track of their welfare and we heard nothing that would spoil
Our moods, we felt our daughter and her husband are in smooth sail
Months passed and our daughter started discovering
The other side of her husband and his family, who were bothering
Her for money and other favours, but she told us she is gearing
Up to set things right with the strength of her educational bearing
Alas, one day we heard that our loving pregnant daughter was thrown
Off by her in-laws from a dashing car in the mid town
Suffered multiple fractures and hospitalized and down
With coma, paralyzed and most of her organs drown
With no one attending to her, either in-laws or husband
We rushed to her, attended and brought her back to our land
She recovered a bit, at times feebly smiling at those who stand
Around her, unable to move or shake with them her hand
She delivered safe her little cute daughter, the only solace
But she could not hold the infant, feed or embrace
She is our everything and was once shining with grace
Which this marriage, did totally erase
We do believe that marriages are made in heaven
But some can drive you to hell
poem by Bashyam Narayanan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!