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Best Famous Hubby Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Hubby poems. This is a select list of the best famous Hubby poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Hubby poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of hubby poems.

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Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

A Domestic Tragedy

 Clorinda met me on the way
As I came from the train;
Her face was anything but gay,
In fact, suggested pain.
"Oh hubby, hubby dear!" she cried,
"I've awful news to tell. . . ."
"What is it, darling?" I replied;
"Your mother -- is she well?"

"Oh no! oh no! it is not that,
It's something else," she wailed,
My heart was beating pit-a-pat,
My ruddy visage paled.
Like lightning flash in heaven's dome
The fear within me woke:
"Don't say," I cried, "our little home
Has all gone up in smoke!"

She shook her head. Oh, swift I clasped
And held her to my breast;
"The children! Tell me quick," I gasped,
"Believe me, it is best."
Then, then she spoke; 'mid sobs I caught
These words of woe divine:
"It's coo-coo-cook has gone and bought
A new hat just like mine."


Written by John Berryman | Create an image from this poem

Dream Song 117: Disturbed when Henrys love returned with a hubby

 Disturbed, when Henry's love returned with a hubby,—
I see that, Henry, I don't put that down,—
he thought he had to think
or with a razor like a skating-rink
have more to say or more to them downtown
in the Christmas season, like a hobby.

Their letters will, released, shake the mapped world 
at some point, in the National Geographic.
(Friend, that hurt.)
It's horrible how near she was my hurt
in the old days—now she's a lawyer twirled
halfway around her finger

and I am elated & vague for love of her
and she is chilly & lost for love of me
and we are for each other
that which needs which, corresponding to Henry's mother
but which can not have, like the lifting sea
over each other's fur.
Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

The Widow

 I don't think men of eighty odd
 Should let a surgeon operate;
Better to pray for peace with God,
 And reconcile oneself to Fate:
At four-score years we really should
 Be quite prepared to go for good.

That's what I told my husband but
 He had a hearty lust for life,
And so he let a surgeon cut
 Into his innards with a knife.
The sawbones swore: "The man's so fat
 His kidneys take some getting at."

And then (according to a nurse),
 They heard him petulantly say:
"Adipose tissue is curse:
 It's hard to pack them tripes away."
At last he did; sewed up the skin,
 But left, some say, a swab within.

I do not doubt it could be so,
 For Lester did not long survive.
But for mishap, I think with woe
 My hubby might still be alive.
And while they praise the surgeon's skill,
 My home I've sold--to pay his bill.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things