CreationEarth Nature Photos
Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Jobs Poems

Below are the all-time best Jobs poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of jobs poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Jobs poems, articles about Jobs poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Jobs poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

Definition & Discussion of Jobs Poems
Read Jobs Poems
New Jobs Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

New Jobs Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Jobs poems are below this new poems list.

Gobs of Jobs by Horn, James
Even Lunatics Need Jobs by Caliri, Matt
AFTER ADAM JOBS by Thajudeen, Muhammad Safa
We Thank You Steve Jobs by Monihan, Rhoda
Insane Jobs Of The Week by Rose, Mystic
STEVE JOBS by Enriquez, Leon
Build Jobs For All Our People by Barclay, Bernard
Dead End Jobs by Browne, Davina
Jobs- by Oyewole, Abdulhafeez
for Jobs contest: Strawberry Fields Forever - - NOT by Dietrich, Andrea

View all new Jobs Poems

The Best Jobs Poems

Details | Jobs Poem | |

Secret of the Mortician

The Secret of the Mortician

Dead, but I got eyes
Prepares my body at the morgue
Opens the chest
Drains the blood from its nudity
Admires my body before it decays

After The process of embalming
His hands run all over
I'm still dead
He's satisfied

The next day 
Writes an outstanding obituary 
I sit on display

~SKAT~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015


Details | Jobs Poem | |

A Joyless Job

At the window, palms under my chin,
such beauty I see, out the frosted pane,
I was mesmerized, it showed in my grin,
so picture perfect, the snow covered lane.

My daydream was dashed, Mom called from the door,
"time to brave the cold and clear the sidewalk,"
grabbed my winter coat and boots from the floor,
I hate this chore, but knew not to back-talk.

"Don't slip on the ice, watch out for the plow,"
I hear, as orange shovel meets concrete,
shouldn't the county have this done by now?,
this takes all day, with snow piled up in feet.

Why freeze for allowance, I'll never know,
yet, I still find myself shoveling snow.






November 18th, 2014

Sara Kendrick's contest - "Jobs"

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

MEN YOU DEFINITELY WOULDN'T WANT TO DATE - PART 1

I once dated a pilot … We both had our head in the clouds Our relationship lead to a lot of turbulence - I guess it never really got off the ground! I once dated a glazier… He thought I would be putty in his hands But I could see right through him… He was constantly smashed I once dated a policeman Oh he was an arresting sight He wanted to take down my particulars… But I threw the book at him I once dated an undertaker… He knew he had stiff competition I couldn’t cope as he was always ‘coffin’ and picked me up in his hearse He had no sense of humour in fact he was dead boring I once dated an angler The thought he was a real catch… But the scales soon fell from my eyes As he was obsessed with his flies I once dated a footballer He thought he could score with me Told me he had great tackle… But it was just a load of balls I once dated a fishmonger… He thought he was cod’s gift to women He invited me back to his plaice… Where I found out he was really a cold fish Jan Allison 15th April 2016

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016


Details | Jobs Poem | |

for Jobs contest: Strawberry Fields Forever - - NOT

There aren’t too many jobs that kids can do
when they are in their pre-teen years, but we
knew of a place to work where berries grew.
To pick them was a job of misery.

In June, my siblings and I went each day;
into a field with hats and pails we’d go!
On hands and knees, through dirt we’d crawl our way
while picking berries up and down each row.

I still recall the rock ‘n roll we played -
our only pleasure as we all perspired
in Iowa’s damp heat, away from shade.
When we were through at last, we felt so tired.

No smaller pay have I since ever got.
But how I loved the treats that money bought!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Gina the toilet cleaner

They call her big Gina
You'd know if you seen her
She is a toilet cleaner
She wears a white smock
Armed with bucket and a mop
She likes to keep things clean
And is a real scrubber
If you know what I mean
She whistles as she goes
With disinfectant wafting under her nose
She replaces toilet rolls
And cleans the toilet bowls
She really loves her job
She has a cat called Doris
And a husband called Bob
Her job is dirty and often smelly
She has a tattoo of a toilet on her belly
At the end of the day
She puts her mop and bucket away
Goes home and has a shower
Then cleans the house within half an hour
Her husband makes her mad
Leaving the toilet seat up
She puts toilet water in his cup
Of tea to sup
She has a daughter called Pru
She dreams of being a toilet cleaner too
She doesn't care about the smell of poo
Just her dream comes true
We should all appreciate toilet cleaners
Just like big Gina.


''Warning! Toilet water in tea. please do not try at home.
 could be dangerous and doesn't taste nice''.


Peter Dome.copyright.2014. Aug.

Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

BC Had Greatness

B.C. has been the acronym applied 
for all events before out dear Lord’s birth.
Who knew another god would change the tide
and wield a power of great global worth?

To what do I refer? Or have you guessed
the god to which we each now bow our head?
No matter our religion, all are blessed
with this thing vital as our daily bread.

It took away the jobs of common men
and gave new jobs to geeks. You now must know
this god of our new world, who loves all sin
as well as good, has nothing it won’t show!

I think “Before Computers” seems a way
to say A.D.  became a new B.C.
Now things have changed so much that I would say
that my own past is ancient history!

Before Computers, life was not so fast,
and even in the 90’s I could keep
abreast of news and make my free time last.
High-tech today both makes me thrill and weep!

More time for family, a slowed down pace,
more time for God; I weep for things we’ve lost.
yet thrilled am I to see the human race
now bonding. But we do it at what cost?

Our children growing lazy, rude, and fat
and less connected, addicts to a phone!
To play outside. . . . Do you remember that?
B.C. meant doing more things on your own.

With jobs, our kids and all our lives at stake,
we now embrace our new computer age,.
Omitting our true God is the mistake
that might well do us in; we must be sage!

Recall the values getting left behind
as into this computer age we cruise.
Look back to decades past and you will find
B.C. had greatness that we must not lose.


For Deb's Contest (B.C. = Before Computers)

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Seed Of Friendship-A dedication

L-iving in a world of vast 
souls formed from 
another voided world,
E-ntering thru portals 
from their world to earth.
O-ozing spetacular smell 
and wail when the chips 
are down.
N-urtured from cradle to 
adulthood-independent
entity with a new world 
to face.
O-rganizes oneself for the 
task ahead,passing thru 
hurdles of life unabased 
and unabashed.
R-eaps the fruit of labor 
with joy or heavy heart.
A-ge sets in,mission 
accomplished or not will 
dawn on the entity.

I-n retrospect,he thinks 
about his childhood and 
how life was to him.

L-iving in confidence or 
shame,he bows his head 
in victory or defeat.
O-nly the taste of time 
will tell the durability of 
his achievements.
V-oid of preference the 
aim result bears the 
foundation for his lineage.
E-njoyment or lack lies 
with the works of the 
man,for there is no food 
for the slothful.

Y-oung ones,a stitch in 
time saves nine,make 
haste while the sun 
shines.
O-iling your lamb always 
like the ten virgins is the 
key to success.
U-rging you to shun peer 
pressure and focus on 
the course marked out 
for you by fate,so a 
fulfilled life you shall live.





An acrostic for you 
Leonora Galinita.

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Sawing Firewood For My Dad, Again

Sawing Firewood For My Dad, Again

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
 heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so very cold,
 so get it done before we all grow old."

Boys, don't gripe, somebody got to do it
 so hurry up and get right on to it
Winter is coming on and lickety-split
 we need that firewoood before it hits

Early morning hours before going to school
 sawing damn firewood, sure wasn't cool
Getting tired and sweaty wasn't any fun
 stacking newly cut firewood by the ton!

A boy of fourteen truly does not care
 to pull a damn crosscut saw anywhere
If his washing dishes wasn't bad enough
 now this job, it was sho' nuff tough

Working two hours before school was bad
 four more after school made one really mad
Curse this damn wood and this damn life
 hickory ain't butter, this saw aint a knife!

Someday, I'll get a real fine job then
 get myself rich like so many other men
Fancy myself with riches and a beautiful wife
 curse this damn wood and this damn life

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
 heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so very cold,
 so get it done before we all grow old."

Stop yelling, we sawing to beat the band
 want any better, get another slaving hand
We cut and stack this crap all the time
 pay is lousy, not even one thin dime

Big bro' pulling on the saw's other end
 laughing at me , with that damn silly grin
"Little bro', stop bitching you're wasting spit
 nothing to change so lets get on with it."

Another one, urging me to be a working fool
 when grown man I'll be nobody's damn tool
Gonna get me that money and a life of ease
 lay about, do just as I damn well please!

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
 heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so very cold,
 so get it done before we all grow old."

Early morning hours before going to school
 sawing damn firewood, sure wasn't cool
Getting tired and sweaty wasn't any fun
 stacking newly cut firewood by the ton!

Robert J. Lindley, 11-09-2014

note: Special thanks to my friend Sara Kendrick for this concept
 and inspiration. Inspired by her new contest theme.... 
Written about my young life and some of its hardships.
Usually writing a sonnet comes so easily to me but when starting 
this write this blew right on out of me. Definitely not
 a sonnet as was her contest requirement , so its not an entry in 
that competition.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

The Fraud

a hallway.  offices.  tinted sunlight.  
people who have forgotten my name.  
but i am here.  
and then a room.  and a meeting.  
and i am unprepared.  
“you’re up”  says the leader.  
and my lungs fill with heaviness as they all turn towards me.  
my mind screams.  
my throat locks.  

and then a word fights through the scream.  
and i breathe.  and find a voice.  
and then another word.  
and a thought.  
then relevance.  
i am moving.  
and eyes do not wander.  
but the scream fights on:  
they will find out.  

i was connected at one time.  
so the scream would fade.   
but not now.  
these many years later.  
“we could use you again,”  
he had said.  
and i had relented.  
but why?  boredom?  faith?  
the scream of fear vs. the scream of isolation?  
or a familiar voice dragging me back from madness.  
“what have you been up to?”  
he had asked.  
and i had lied.  
and now my mind all scrambled between work and stupor.   

“what on EARTH are you talking about?!” 
demands the one who should have taken over for me.  
and the throat locks again.  
and the scream rises up.  
and he knows it.  
but sympathy has no place here.  
so i struggle with the scream. 
and find the words to hide the Fraud  
as he shakes his head in disgust.   

and i remember why i left.  
so i wade in the scream until i am done and take my seat.  
and the scream that never dies whispers, “what else is there?”      

Copyright © Sam Toil | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

TENDER LOVING TOUCH

TENDER LOVING TOUCH don't fear she's dear tight clutch soft touch wears white polite too sick she's quick your ache she breaks your ill she feels one pill you still preserve your nerve correct inject your shock she blocks you scared she cares through sleeps she peeps recharged discharge "thank you" she coos ___________________________ Sponsor Judy Konos Contest Name YOUR FOOTLE POEM ---Placed1st--- O.E. Guillermo 8:41 pm, April 04, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015


Details | Jobs Poem | |

STILL THE WORST JOB EVER

       Still the Worst Job Ever


How do I hold thee, let me count the ways.
I hold thee trembling, beneath kitchen sinks
crouched in the darkness of the brightest days
guiding thy beam as his patience shrinks.

I hold thee dulled by lightning’s fearsome flash
shakily awaiting  unseen anger
tortured by the inevitable crash
intrigued by the neediness of danger.

I hold thee wide eyed in dirt-floored cellar 
your flame slow flickering on edge of sight
dimming through the range of yellowed color
draining the darkness from a darkened night.

I hold thee, for my brothers all have fled
I hold thee, not knowing what they dread.



11/13/2014
Submitted for - Sara Kendrick -  Jobs – Poetry Contest

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Glow worms of the night

I fight my sleep in a drain.
 Oh ! My brain why art thou so vain.
I glow at night when the city sleeps.
To my dears who weep.
Tales aren't glowing at this end.
You lucky to choose the path you trend.
I am a glow worm of the bountiful sky.
I weave silk with my words each night,
Which fades in the darkness of the waving dream.
I wonder the worth of it all.
A vain pursuit, I say.
My soul is in that cave...
Pity! Warm breeze take me away to the morning light.
Let me fly through these strum less clogs of wheel.
Drudgery breeds it's contempt.
Amaya! Shower on me thy calm to tread the brightest star.

-Kullu

(A poem for those who work at night)



Contest:- Any poem under 15lines#2
Sponsored By:- A Poet Destroyer
Place:-    5th

Copyright © Chelsea Chords | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

NIGHTINGALE'S SOUL LIGHTS

NIGHTINGALE'S SOUL LIGHTS Plain spotless uniform so pure and white Modest neat gear rendering tender loving fight Day, night 'till wee hours, eyes a must wide awake Extending a hand, shaking off all aches Tiptoeing like a sly in and out of rooms Dim ~ quiet same as white garden tombs Grace under pressure upon first newborn's cry Wiping tears from a gentle old man's dying eye Evenings so dark and mornings so bright Everyday a nurse sees life kaleidoscope lights Despite some voice rudeness to foul remarks Kindness,her soul's sweet perfume, larks A nurse appears unfeeling firm when mankind bleeds Within her are hidden soft golden beauty deeds (c) 11:47pm July 06, 2014

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

ANGELS WITHOUT WINGS

At patients bedside tending the sick and dying
Nurses are absolutely amazing people
Giving tender care
Each and every day
Life is so so precious
Such a wonderful job they all do

Contest: Angels
Sponsor Nayda Ivette Negron
1st January 2016

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016


Details | Jobs Poem | |

The Great Puppeteer

The Great Puppeteer

The CEO wore a six hundred dollar wool-silk blended suit
and he stroked his tie as he counted his loot
10 million for me
10 million for my stockholders if you please
and that leaves
7 dollars for my employees

leaning back in his leather chair
he muses
thinking of the people he uses
we’ve got to stop raising minimum wage
if we’re to go on living in this golden age

the great puppeteer
he knows he’s got a good thing going here

so with a little hocus pocus
he gets his employees to focus
on poor people who live in despair
he gets them complaining about people on welfare

it’s called divide and conquer said he
you see
the poor are so naive
they’ll never see the card I have up my sleeve
I’ll get them fighting over the scraps I leave
and they won’t even notice
I’m having a feast no one would believe!

Copyright © Wally Flint | Year Posted 2015


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Please God, Use Me Today

"Please, God, use me today."
Is a prayer many Christian's pray.
"Take my gifts and talents, too,
let them be used in service for you."

God hears our prayers,
but, for the most part, He knows,
good intentions are forgotten
as the day quickly goes.

Because to get people's attention,
is a losing game,
when time after time,
He calls out our names.

Our ears are closed.
Our antenna's not up,
to His signs and signals
from heaven's higher up.

So He whispers in another's ear,
and get's a response,
"Yes, God, I'm here!"

But the helping hands
that are always there,
and the eyes that see
and the hearts that care,
are God's many helper's
who don't have to say,
"What can I do, God, for you today?"

Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2015


Details | Jobs Poem | |

I Broke The Office Paper Shredder The Day Before Yesterday

i broke the office paper shredder the day before yesterday
and needless to say
the cruel word has spread around the office town
i broke the office paper shredder
i arrived to work yesterday
and there was an awkward tea point silence
nothing was said you understand
but there was that definite vibe
similar to one of those who jammed the photocopier vibes
you know the drill
precisely like a more bloody episode of the wire

i opened an email
did you break the office paper shredder
did you inform anyone
it took us nearly thirty five minutes to fix it..so i'm guessing that means it took them up to thirty four minutes
..it took us nearly thirty five minutes to fix it
also you must have folded the paper in half before shredding
why
please respond asap
we never thought you would be capable of doing something so..
 
i responded guilty
i'm guilty and i'm sorry
i didn't know i jammed it
i'm sure the paper went through
and i never folded it either
or if i did it was an oversight
it wasn't on purpose
it's not like i'm some kind of terrorist
oh we'll be the judge of that
will you please step outside..
now as i have a day off today
i shall only find out tomorrow night whether
this case will be escalated
to the hr herbal tea bag jihadis
perhaps i should get the union involved
perhaps i should ask for a priest of my denomination
i'm in trouble
no doubt about it
it's karma isn't it
i will be reincarnated as a jammed sheet of shredded paper
and this poem won't help
it might make things even worse
as if they can get any worse
lord krishna please forgive me
i'll work on opening my third eye from tomorrow
i promise
i'll even work on opening my eyelids

i broke the office paper shredder
it lay broken  for nearly thirty five minutes
i received an email
i could see that all the important management people were also copied in
i'm gonna bleed
i'm wondering now
while on my day off today
who they have also 
forwarded and cc'd and bcc'd
no doubt you too will soon receive that email
loaded with coded comments not so veiled
i must take ownership of my sin
perhaps save myself from being thrown head down
in the man's recycle bin
it's morning but i need a drink

i broke the office paper shredder
it lay broken for nearly thirty five minutes
they knew it was me
because they looked inside the shredder
yes they actually looked inside the shredder
and they recognised that particular brand of coloured paper
that we use only for the committee rooms
and they knew i would have been the one to shred those sheets
there's no point in denying it either
they might have already checked the cctv
it must gone down all csi
they must have taken prints dna ultraviolet
and as i live in the uk
i can't take the fifth or plea bargain
or drive to mexico
or become a guy stripper in vegas

where will it end
is this what i have worked for
is all this dust meant to only turn to
dust
the office gossipers have me in their twerking grips
those smirking smug ninja pixies
their dead eyes swinging from their hips...


on a positive note
although i'm a middle aged man
is this breaking the office paper shredder
that lay broken for nearly thirty five minutes remember
my rock star moment
will the office ladies see me now as that edgy guy
hey look it's that guy the he broke the office paper shredder guy
i just wanna rip my clothes off
i just don't care
a man like that loses control for a reason
he's probably misunderstood
he probably writes really deep poetry
or does something even worse than that
he has that tortured million mile stare and everything
and to think
i always just used to walk right past him
when will i learn
when will i learn..

Copyright © Suki Spangles | Year Posted 2015


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Casting Couch

===========================

May I please say before we start
that I am PERFECT for this part?
It's in my SOUL.

You might as well go lock the door,
cuz right here's what you're looking for.
I AM this role!

But why take chances? Just in case,
I've put plans B and C in place.
(So I'm not not stiffed)

Lets just say I have money, dear.
Who couldn't use a twenny here?
 *wink*.... catch my drift?

Need more to prove that I'm no slouch?
Just show me to the casting couch.
THAT talent's free...

.........
.............


No -  thank YOU, Sir!!    When's best to call?
I just KNEW once you'd seen it all...

Oh...............     You'll call ME...?

===========================

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Back to Barnyard Contest

Welcome to our barnyard, you can call me Fred.
I have the hard job of getting everyone out of bed.
Cheerful by nature, I’m proud to “cock-a-doodle-do.”
A beautiful crow to hear but you’d think I shouted, “Boo!”
 
To a morning person this sounds like the best job ever.
At dawn, I’m sad to say, few appreciate me being clever.
Yes, I know the names they call me... I try to shrug it off.
Cock-of-the-walk really gripes me, who are they to scoff?
 
Some are jealous of my red cone, it is so beautiful.
Lifting my neck to properly crow is being dutiful.
Believe me, I’ve tried and tried not to strut my stuff.
To be a rooster and not be cocky is really quite tough.
 
Throughout the day I continue to “cock-a-doodle-do.”
Yes, it does sound like revenge, but wouldn’t you?
Of course if danger arises everyone needs to hear me.
I like them calling me brave and crowding to be near me.

Without me this barnyard would never be on time.
Deep down they all know it, I just wish they would be kind.


Written 2-19-2016
For:  "Back to Barnyard" Contest by Matt Caliri
Form: Rhyme Personification

Copyright © Susan Gentry | Year Posted 2016


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Actor

Too many roles within a single role is an actor's life

Copyright © Lydia Chitra Jacob | Year Posted 2016


Details | Jobs Poem | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Steve Jobs, Apple's Core

Steve Jobs, Apple’s Core By Rick Rucker I heard it, while driving home today, I started crying, I shouted “No Way!” The man that changed the World of Today, Lost his battle, He has gone away, He made the World of Tech very cool, And other marketers, appear the fool, I carry with me a smart phone, And I am not alone, A telephone of Today, It is my computer, when I am Away, I can check my stocks, It even plays music that Rocks, And, with just a tap, I can buy another “app,’ He designed the iPad, The best computer that some have had, He managed the design of the Mac, It changed our World to Technicolor, from Black! I am an artist, so you know, That for graphics, it was where I had to go, With a PC, a troubled course I had to find, My Mac just seems to read my Mind, Steve saw the World in a different Way, In 1984, he freed the World from Gray! They said that Steve was tough, Those that crossed him found it rough, Despite their heartfelt pleas, He brought Mickey Mouse, and his minions, to their knees! Because he would not bend, They saw themselves at The End, In what seemed quite a shock, They gave Steve almost all their stock, All he had to give? His animation, that let them live! The World grew a little colder today, Because Steve Jobs went away, His company still carries the same name, But, it was him that brought it fame, And, I might say more, Steve Jobs was Apple’s Core!

Copyright © Rick Rucker | Year Posted 2011


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Take This Job And Stuff It

I worked in a bowlin' place settin' pins,

Tryin' not to let a ball break my shins!

In those days of yore, pins were set by hand,

And you had to hustle to beat the band!

I was around fourteen when I was hired,

And was around fourteen when I was fired!

The boss man paid me fifty cents per hour,

'Til one night our relationship went sour!

I advised him where he could stuff the job!

Said he, "Find another line of work, Bob!"

Couldn't face workin' there 'til I retired.

Found work pumpin' gas when I was rehired!

8 November 2014 - Entry for Sara Hendrick's "Jobs" Contest

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Slave to the Job

Vampires suck, they drain my life
it feels like that in this god damn place
A pound of flesh I'm sure they'll take
but even then they won't be full
not satisfied until
I'm worn and I'm weary
they chip chip chip away
then I'm nothing but a shell
I wish I could enjoy this time
on the short path to the inevitable
A pension not too far off for some years of frailty
but what's the point shall I give up now
to stop the pain of being a zombie
I'll carry on because I'm programmed to
but the vultures, the leeches and parasites continue
to bleed me for my life

Copyright © Rob Carter | Year Posted 2014


Details | Jobs Poem | |

Coincidental Names And Vocations

I was reminiscing the other day about people I've known o'er the years,
And found it strange that their names corresponded with their careers.
For instance, Joseph Carpenter was handy with hammer, nails and saw.
Clyde Barrister, famed ambulance chaser, successfully practiced law!

Art Paynter, dabbled in pornographic oils and is now confined in prison.
My dentist, Whitey Capps, takes care of my choppers as if they were his'n.
A neighbor, Semmi Riggs, is a long-haul trucker and is on the road a lot.
He married a classmate of mine, Tipsy Toper, renowned as the village sot!

An old army buddy, Hank Roper, is a cowpoke and rides the rodeo scene.
An old girl friend of mine, Freda Flick, is now starring on the silver screen.
The town ne'er-do-well, Don Heller, got religion and became a preacher.
His brother Bob (known as stuttering Bob) became an English teacher!

Willie Wrench turned out to be one of the finest Buick mechanics around,
And his wife Lila (nee Leak) is a plumber and none better is to be found.
Cyrus Cloud is working for the National Weather Service as a meteorologist,
And I hear that Buddy Butts has a thriving practice as a famed proctologist!

Frenchie Horne has his own band and I see him on the boob tube now and again.
An old pal, Gilbert Graves, is the village undertaker located at Fifth and Main.
Was it intentional or fickle fate that wedded these names to their vocation?
I reckon in a sense 'twas both due to a struggling bard's wild imagination!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014