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Best Poems Written by Tony Lane

Below are the all-time best Tony Lane poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Pirates Prayer of Thanks

I come to you with humble thanks for all that you’ve delivered,
For Englishmen to walk the planks and for timbers left unshivered.

I thank you for a glassy sea and the steady blowing breeze,
For giving all these things to me without making me say please.

And I thank you for the horizon where sea and sky do meet,
For every new sun that I watch risin’ is a day of fate I’ll cheat.

It is my hope dear loving Lord that I can bring you pleasure,
By throwing someone overboard and stealing all their treasure.

And when I navigate at night you send the northern star,
I feel then that I’m alright and it’s to you that I’ll say ARRR.

There’s a lesson that some people teach about the carrying that you do,
But I knew that the footprints on the beach must have belonged to you.

‘Cause I got a peg and there’s no doubt it would’ve got stuck into the sand.
I couldn’t have pulled myself back out because I got this hook for one hand.

I’d like to see you but by some quirk my good eye got covered by my patch,
I know that I’m just salvage work and it’s you who’ll batten down my hatch.

So Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of rum and raise the Jolly Roger to the sky,
And praise Him from whom blessings come the one who reigns on high.

For I am grateful for the gifts that you have granted me,
A pirate ship that is so swift and the blue green open sea.

Details | Tony Lane Poem

A Mouse In the House

A little grey mouse 
snuck into the house 
to get himself out of the cold. 

Then the house cat 
Who saw where he sat 
pursued him I am told. 

The lazy old dog 
who sleeps like log 
was startled by the chase, 

So she woke up 
her own small pup 
and they joined in the race. 

My sister the baby 
decided that maybe 
she would give it a try, 

She started a spat 
And was scratched by the cat 
and then she started to cry. 

That’s when mom 
called to Uncle Tom 
to come and lend a hand, 

With a straw broom
mom circled the room 
knocking plants from off a stand. 

In came my dad 
and he was quite mad 
because the house was in disarray 

He was vexed 
with what happened next 
But it happened just this way. 


Our two brave bowsers 
chased the mouse up dad’s trousers 
He thought he’d be safe in there. 

Until Dad started to dance 
with the mouse in his pants 
Then he jumped up on a kitchen chair. 

Mom smacked dad’s seat 
and then came a repeat 
And the mouse climbed out of his pocket. 

Unseen by all 
he started to crawl 
into the wall through an open socket. 

Later that night, 
With no one in sight, 
I put out a nut for the little mouse. 

I had no hate toward him, 
And I tried to reward him. 
Even if he was trapped inside our house. 

I told him my name, 
And he did the same, 
Then he stuffed the nut into his cheeks. 

He said thanks for the food, 
And I don’t mean to be rude, 
But that was the most fun that I’ve had in weeks.

Details | Tony Lane Poem

The Knight's Tale of the Night's Tail

Sir Homophone came to meet the maid that somehow stayed so slim.
Her feat was to stay chaste to him and yet by his feet be chased by him.
She had recently lost some weight by refusing to partake in evening sup.
It seemed the more that she pared down the more likely to be paired up.
All night the weak maid prayed so meekly for the Knight that she sees.
But the Knight preyed to be made thrice weekly and she at night to seize.
She hoped he would meet and see her and then choose to wed,
But it was the supper meat that saw the sear that he chews instead.
She sewed her dress then pared the wood and the holy altar made, 
He sowed distress when he prepared his wood to wholly alter the maid.
“Maid please tend to me now you’ve said you weekly have sordid sex.”
“Knight please you misunderstand I said I weakly have sorted sox.”
She begged, “Please be discreet with what it is that we’ve discussed.”
He shrugged, “You are awfully discrete in what it is that you disgust.”
But love conspired to steal, his heart soared and they were off to wed,
Then lust transpired to steel his hard sword and they were off to bed.
He was happy because of her sighs and she was happy because of his. 
This concludes my good Knight tale and all of this good night tail biz.

You read it didn’t you? Shame on you, I had to read it because I wrote it 
but you had a choice. Benny Hill would be so proud.

Details | Tony Lane Poem

Tullys Automobile

Over the top of Tammy hill 
came Tully’s motor car, 
Tully never drove it very fast 
nor ever very far.

In his youth he’d taught us all
How to pilot our ride, 
It was a job he did very well
And in it found his pride.

But now Tully was an older gent 
approaching eighty-three, 
And he was a pretty good driver still 
for a man who couldn’t see. 

So when it became known to all 
that Tully was on a drive, 
It was best for them to stay inside 
If they hoped to stay alive. 

Whenever he detected movement 
in his line of sight, 
He’d steer his car right for it 
and do so with delight. 

He’d assume that he’d happened upon 
some traffic on the lane, 
It didn’t really matter to him at all 
if it was an auto or a train. 

All that ever mattered to Tully 
was that he found his way to the pub, 
And he was about to spend an evening 
of Guinness and Irish grub. 

Then one night I’d had enough 
and was in fear of poor Tully’s life, 
The thought of the blind old man 
behind the wheel added to my strife. 

So I lifted the bonnet on his ride 
and removed the distributor cap, 
When I was done I was greeted by 
some locals as they began to clap. 

When Tully finally stumbled out 
he found that his ride was no longer game, 
He took out a pistol and shot it dead 
As if it a horse that had turned up lame.

Now Tully has moved to town
And can walk wherever he goes.
Off in the direction of the wind
And follows wherever it blows.

And when a car comes down the lane,
To the side he’ll frantically dive.
He’ll shake his fist and yell at them,
“Who was it that taught you to drive?”

Details | Tony Lane Poem

The Optimistic Pessimists Resolutions

Get in shape, lose some weight.
Every year it’s always the same.
Read a book, stay home and cook,
And I only have myself to blame.

Till some land, lend a hand.
You’d think that I’d be smart enough,
Cards to send to a sick friend,
To ignore this self-improvement stuff.

Get more sleep, don’t sell cheap.
But it is an annual institution,
Take a class, use less gas.
To make a New Year’s resolution.

Eat less meat, be more discrete,
Why must they always be so hard?
Be more caring, try more sharing,
This time of year puts me on my guard.

Be more polite, sleep at night,
I wish for an easy way I will confess.
Work hard all day, don’t over stay,
To keep the resolutions that I express.

Only say what you mean today,
What if I only made an easy pick?
Do your best to skew the test,
Then my word would surely stick.

Eat more snacks, take more naps,
I’ll confuse my karma and trick it.
Watch TV, look out for me,
This might be just the ticket.

Stay up late while cheating fate,
This is a New Year’s revolution,
I’ll make my list then I’ll insist,
That I keep this year’s resolution.

And when it’s time to stay in line,
But my promises I fail to keep.
I’ll not hide as I backslide,
As the benefits I will reap.

I’ll be complete whenever I cheat,
And by default I’ll do what I should.
It won’t make me sad when I do bad,
Because my failing will only do me good.

Details | Tony Lane Poem

The Ides of March

“Beware the Ides of March,” the seer said to Caesar, 
But no one paid him much attention because the seer was a teaser. 
  
Just last week the seer had said, “Beware the rear Cassias, 
Whatever it is that he’s been eating has left him awfully gaseous.” 

Poor Cassias was so self-conscience that he stopped eating for a week, 
It gave him a lean and hungry look that left him anything but meek. 

Then the seer said to Brutus, “You need to get out of this joint, 
I see that you’re about to get canned unless you show dear Caesar the point.” 

“That’s a pretty good idea,” Brutus said, “I think that that’s what we should do, 
Both me and Cassias can needle him and some of the other Senators will too.” 

But when the seer spoke to Caesar it was hard for the emperor to decide, 
What course of action he should take because he didn’t know what was an Ide. 

Then people were in awe of the seer’s power and the things that he could see, 
They never knew that the things he had said helped to fulfill his own prophesy.

Details | Tony Lane Poem

Its Christmas Time In Dodge City

(To the tune of Silver Bells)

Wooden sidewalks, and the shop fronts,
Dressed in wild western style
In the jail there’s a feeling of Christmas

Cattle mooing, cowboys shooting
Riding mile after mile
And down at the Long Branch you hear

Silver spurs, silver spurs
It’s Christmas time in Dodge City
Jing-a-ling, saloon girls sing
Soon it will be Christmas day.

Mobs in street fights try to stay polite
While they bleed red and scream
As the towns folk rush home
To take cover

Hear the jaws crunch
See the kids bunch
It’s Matt Dillon’s big scene
As he catches the rustlers you’ll hear

Silver spurs, silver spurs
It’s Christmas time in Dodge City
Jing-a-ling, saloon girls sing
Soon it will be Christmas day.

Silver spurs, silver spurs
Soon it will be Christmas day.
Soon it will be Christmas day.


When we travel in the car we sing to the radio. The other night, Silver Bells came on and I sang Dodge City to make my wife laugh.

Details | Tony Lane Poem

The Christmas Paradox

Merry Christmas and all that stuff and don’t forget to write,
Now if you would all be on your way I’d like a silent night.

It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed your stay, I have you must believe me,
I just wish that it were over now because your leaving would relieve me.

I’d like to say that the magic of this day would be with me until I die,
But out of respect for the holiday I feel that it would be wrong to lie.

I’ve spent the time following you around and picking up after your kids,
Putting food back in the refrigerator and closing up all of the lids.

I’ve even picked up your smelly socks after making Christmas dinner,
While you’ve all gotten fat it seems that I’ve grown that much thinner.

But when next year comes you’d better be here to visit with Santa Claus,
Don’t tell me that you’ll spend Christmas time over at your in-laws.

Because Christmas is a family time and we all should be together,
And you can tell your in-laws that you’ll be theirs on Arbor Day forever.

Details | Tony Lane Poem

The Man In the Mirror

My father-in-law went through this phase with his Alzheimer's.


We’ve recently noticed that grandpa has made himself a friend,
We’re pretty sure that this one will stay with him until the end.

The new guy has his room right next door to my grandpa’s place,
And every time my gramps stands at the window he can see his face.

It seems that the two of them are as compatible as can be,
And they both decorate the same as near as gramps can see.

Gramps visits with his friend to share iced tea and a smile,
Until they both run out of steam and decide to nap for a while.

They make a pretty good team they’re just like day and night,
The new guy uses his left hand and Gramps prefers his right.

And Grandpa never looks in the window just to stand and stare,
But every time he walks past the thing the other guy is there.

Grandpa says the only thing about this guy that might turn into a curse,
Is that the guy is so good looking and he might steal away the nurse.

Details | Tony Lane Poem

The Bird Is the Word

I don’t know what I’m complaining about,
it’s not like I’ve been cuffed,
All I have to do is show up for dinner.
After all it’s the bird that got stuffed.

It’s not like they’re asking a lot from me
they won’t work me till I’ve croaked,
All I have to do is show up and eat.
After all it’s the bird that got smoked.

I can’t tell you that they’ll torture me
and it seems to be reasonably priced,
All I have to do is visit for a while.
After all it’s the bird that got sliced.

I could tell them things to make them laugh
until their gravy becomes splattered,
All I’d have to do is tell a joke to them.
After all it’s the bird that got plattered.

I think that it smells good enough that I’ll eat
until they claim my leg’s been hollowed,
All I have to do is not complain about things.
After all it’s the bird that got swallowed.

I’ve never given it much thought before
but a bird’s life is really kind of murky
I guess I’d rather be the Thanksgiving guest today
than be the Thanksgiving Turkey.