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TOPIC: poems and old wives tales

poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60265

  • Edwin55
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Mom's Time

It's five A. M., time to get up,
I can't believe my eye's.
This place looks like some smarty storm
was trying to be wise
There's match box cars all in a line
waiting to run a race.
There's shoes and books, the newspaper,
everything is out of place.
There's dirty dishes in the sink,
'cause son had to work late.
His boss told him: "something's important"
and it just cannot wait.
The laundry in the hamper
is over-flowed again.
Didn't I do that yesterday?
--there seems to be no end.
The mending's piled up to the roof
a job I really hate.
I really should do it today, well--
maybe it can wait.
Well, everybodies on their way,
this place could use my touch.
But first a cup of coffee,
I don't like housework much.
It's twelve o'clock I should have lunch
just one more job to do.
What happened to my lunch time?
the clock says almost two.
The floor is moped, the laundry's done,
the place looks really neat.
Everything is in it's place,
boy I sure am beat.
It's three o'clock time for a break
the last I'm not sure when.
The school bus just stopped at the door,
well, here we go again.
Supper is done the kitchen is clean,
I think I'll watch T.V.
It's strange I always fall asleep,
is something wrong with me?
It's five A. M., time to get up,
I can't believe my eye's.
This place looks like some smarty storm
was trying to be wise.

by Marjorie L. Andrews
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60270

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Thanks Edwin! Man, can I identify with this!
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60273

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Thanx Will, for reading this. I will try to add some new poem or wisecrack on here from time to time. Glad you liked it.
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60274

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Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1892 - 1950

Travel


The railroad track is miles away,

And the day is loud with voices speaking,

Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day

But I hear its whistle shrieking.



All night there isn’t a train goes by,

Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,

But I see its cinders red on the sky,

And hear its engine steaming.



My heart is warm with friends I make,

And better friends I’ll not be knowing;

Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,

No matter where it’s going.
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Last edit: by Edwin55.

poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60275

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Thanks again Edwin. I love the way poetry can sum up so much in just a few lines! More when you have time. Any wisecracks heading this way soon?!
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60290

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This is for Will especially...but for everyone.


On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree just

inside the cemetery fence.

ONE DAY, TWO BOYS FILLED UP A BUCKETFUL OF NUTS AND SAT DOWN BY THE TREE,

OUT OF SIGHT, AND BEGAN DIVIDING THE NUTS.


'ONE FOR YOU, ONE FOR ME, ONE FOR YOU, ONE FOR ME,' SAID ONE BOY.

SEVERAL DROPPED AND ROLLED DOWN TOWARD THE FENCE.


Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle.

AS HE PASSED, HE THOUGHT HE HEARD VOICES FROM INSIDE THE CEMETERY.

HE SLOWED DOWN TO INVESTIGATE.

SURE ENOUGH, HE HEARD, 'ONE FOR YOU, ONE FOR ME, ONE FOR YOU, ONE FOR

ME...'


He just knew what it was.

HE JUMPED BACK ON HIS BIKE AND RODE OFF.

JUST AROUND THE BEND HE MET AN OLD MAN WITH A CANE, HOBBLING ALONG..


'Come here quick,' said the boy, 'you won't believe what I heard!

SATAN AND THE LORD ARE DOWN AT THE CEMETERY DIVIDING UP THE SOULS!'


The man said, 'Beat it kid, can't you see it's hard for me to walk.'

WHEN THE BOY INSISTED THOUGH, THE MAN HOBBLED SLOWLY TO THE CEMETERY.


Standing by the fence they heard, 'One for you, one for me. One for you,

one for me.'


The old man whispered, 'Boy, you've been tellin' me the truth.

LET'S SEE IF WE CAN SEE THE LORD...


Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable

to

see anything.

THE OLD MAN AND THE BOY GRIPPED THE WROUGHT IRON BARS OF THE FENCE

TIGHTER

AND TIGHTER AS THEY TRIED TO GET A GLIMPSE OF THE LORD.


At last they heard, 'One for you, one for me.

THAT'S ALL.

NOW... LET'S GO GET THOSE NUTS BY THE FENCE AND WE'LL BE DONE....


They say the old man had the lead for a good half-mile, before the kid on

the bike passed him.
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60293

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Wonderful Edwin! Very funny! Keep 'em coming!
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60303

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In School-Days

Still sits the school-house by the road,
A ragged beggar sleeping;
Around it still the sumachs grow,
And blackberry-vines are creeping.

Within, the master’s desk is seen,
Deep-scarred by raps official;
The warping floor, the battered seats,
The jack-knife’s carved initial;

The charcoal frescoes on its wall;
Its door’s worn sill, betraying
The feet that, creeping slow to school,
Went storming out to playing!

Long years ago a winter sun
Shone over it at setting;
Lit up its western window-panes,
And low eaves’ icy fretting.

It touched the tangled golden curls,
And brown eyes full of grieving,
Of one who still her steps delayed
When all the school were leaving.

For near it stood the little boy
Her childish favor singled;
His cap pulled low upon a face
Where pride and shame were mingled.

Pushing with restless feet the snow
To right and left, he lingered;—
As restlessly her tiny hands
The blue-checked apron fingered.

He saw her lift her eyes; he felt
The soft hand’s light caressing,
And heard the tremble of her voice,
As if a fault confessing.

“I’m sorry that I spelt the word:
I hate to go above you,
Because,”—the brown eyes lower fell,—
“Because, you see, I love you!”

Still memory to a gray-haired man
That sweet child-face is showing.
Dear girl! the grasses on her grave
Have forty years been growing!

He lives to learn, in life’s hard school,
How few who pass above him
Lament their triumph and his loss,
Like her, because they love him.

John Greenleaf Whittier (December 17, 1807-September 7, 1892)
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60311

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The middle wife

The ‘Middle Wife’, true story by an Anonymous 2nd grade teacher

I’ve been teaching now for about fifteen years. I have two kids myself, but the best birth story I know is the one I saw in my own second grade classroom a few years back.

When I was a kid, I loved show-and-tell. So I always have a few sessions with my students.. It helps them get over shyness and usually, show-and-tell is pretty tame. Kids bring in pet turtles, model airplanes, pictures of fish they catch, stuff like that. And I never, ever place any boundaries or limitations on them. If they want to lug it in to school and talk about it, they’re welcome.

Well, one day this little girl, Erica, a very bright, very outgoing kid, takes her turn and waddles up to the front of the class with a pillow stuffed under her sweater.
She holds up a snapshot of an infant. ‘This is Luke, my baby brother, and I’m going to tell you about his birthday.’

‘First, Mom and Dad made him as a symbol of their love, and then Dad put a seed in my Mom’s stomach, and Luke grew in there. He ate for nine months through an umbrella cord.’
She’s standing there with her hands on the pillow, and I’m trying not to laugh and wishing I had my camcorder with me.
The kids are watching her in amazement.

‘Then, about two Saturdays ago, my Mom starts saying and going, ‘Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh!’ Erica puts a hand behind her back and groans. ‘She walked around the house for, like an hour, ‘Oh, oh, oh!’ (Now this kid is doing a hysterical duck walk and groaning.)
‘My Dad called the middle wife. She delivers babies, but she doesn’t have a sign on the car like the Domino’s man. They got my Mom to lie down in bed like this.’ (Then Erica lies down with her back against the wall.)

‘And then, pop! My Mom had this bag of water she kept in there in case he got thirsty, and it just blew up and spilled all over the bed, like psshhheew!’ (This kid has her legs spread with her little hands miming water flowing away. It was too much!)
‘Then the middle wife starts saying ‘push, push,’ and ‘breathe, breathe. They started counting, but never even got past ten.

Then, all of a sudden, out comes my brother. He was covered in yucky stuff that they all said it was from Mom’s play-center, so there must be a lot of toys inside there.’
Then Erica stood up, took a big theatrical bow and returned to her seat. I’m sure I applauded the loudest. Ever since then, when it’s show-and-tell day, I bring my camcorder, just in case another ‘Middle Wife’ comes along.

Live every day as if it’s your LAST chance to make someone happy.
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60315

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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60329

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Edwin55 wrote:



Ooh! We need to tread carefully here!
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poems and old wives tales 3 years 10 months ago #60345

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Hugs by Anonymous

It’s wondrous what a hug can do,
A hug can chear you when your blue.
A hug can say, “I love you so,”
Or, “Gee! I hate to see you go.”
A hug is “Welcome back again!” and
“Great to see you!” or “Where’ve you been?”
A hug can soothe a small child’s pain
And bring a rainbow after rain.
The hug! There’s just no doubt about it,
We scarcely could survive without it.
A hug delights and warms and charms,
It must be why God gave us arms.

Hugs are great for fathers and mothers,
Sweet for sisters, swell for brothers,
And chances are some favorite aunts
Love them more then potted plants
Kittens crave them. Puppies love them.
Heads of states are not above them.
A hug can brake the language barrier,
And make the dullest day seem marrier.
No need to fret about the store of ‘em.
The more you give, the more there are of ‘em
So stretch those arms without delay
And give someone a HUG today.
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