Poems wanted!!!

[Dee Gee]

      Women's Whims       

She's afraid of a roach, she'll scream at a mouse
But she'll tackle a husband as big as the house
She'll take him for better, she'll take him for worse
She'll split his head open and then be his nurse
And when he is well and can get out of bed
She'll pick up a teapot and throw at his head

She's faithful, keen-sighted, loving and kind
She's crafty, she's witty, dear, dumb and blind
She'll lift a man up, cast a man down
She'll crown him her king, she'll make him her crown

You fancy her this, but find she is that
For she'll play like a kitten and bite like a cat
In the morning she will, in the evening she won't
And you're always expecting she does--but she won't
She'll love you in truth and ignore your worst fib
And there you have woman--man's long lost rib

Sent to Capper's Weekly by Miss O. M. Smith, Kansas

[Janet Harrington]

I love this.  I have to share this with friends.  Thank you, Dee Gee.

[Diane Amberg]

 Me too

[Bonnie M.]

And me, too!

[Wilma]

               RUMOR

There is a skeleton in my closet,
My main question is, who was it?
Was he short or was he tall,
Was he large or was he small,
Was he any one at all?

I have never seen his bones,
But I've often heard them rattle.
There is a rumor that ill humor
Often led him into battle,
Maybe it is only prattle.

That he was a ladie's man,
Adept at catch as catch can.
That he had a heavy tan,
That he led a tough life's span
As hard as that of any man.

That when he died, they tanned his hide
And hung it on this closet door,
That's the story, wild and gory,
Devoid of any fame and glory,
I am glad there is no more.

                                CAH

[kfclark]

Here's one for Fall that I remember learning in grade school.

"When the Frost is on the Punkin"
 
WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,   
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,   
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,   
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;   
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,           
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,   
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,   
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.   
   
They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere   
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here—   
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,   
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;   
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze   
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days   
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock—   
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.   
   
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,   
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;   
The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still   
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;   
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;   
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!—   
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,   
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.   
   
Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps   
Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;   
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through   
With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!...   
I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be   
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me—   
I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock—   
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.   

James Whitcomb Riley. 1853–1916

[Diane Amberg]

Thanks Kevin, I've always loved that one. It always makes me smile.

[Bonnie M.]

Kevin, I really do like the poem, also!  I never get beyond the first line, though, in what I can "recite" of the poem by memory!  Thanks for posting the poem.

[Wilma]

Spring is sprung
Fall is fell
Now winter's here
And it's cold as h____


You didn't really thing I would use that word, did you?

[Diane Amberg]

I never imagined "you know where" to be very chilly, but if you say so.