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Miss You Funny Poems | Miss You Poems About Funny

These Miss You Funny poems are examples of Miss You poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Miss You Funny poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Light Poetry |

Little Miss Spring

They say it's a time to slip in the mud, and begin anew.
Kick off the dust of yester ...
      and put on the dress of Yes Sir! and Thank You Ma'am
She sure is a joy      This baby little season
And like moths to a flame we praise her name

(we don't need a reason)

And who can blame the helpless admirers
trigger happy on their Kodaks
drunk with Marigold Merriment.

No matter your profession, everyone's a poet,
when spring comes along, like a child, showing off her dandelion face,
believing in her curious way that death has been conquered.

But reality comes in firehouse red,
with silver sickle blades that say, No can do, Little Miss Spring,
not every bird, on every branch, has a song to sing.
The fact of the matter is ... you're just another three months
(Winter? Autumn? They're simply taking an overdue lunch,
but they'll be back with the same fire      The same ice)
Hate to break it to you, Sweetie, but not everything nice
is destined to remain (it's a cyclical thing ... you understand)

You can bet your slender green stem
even Little Miss Spritely has her down days,
but like teenage hysteria     it's just a phase

(we can just pretend those zits are poppies
they smell fragrant enough)

And yes of course      It's a time of LOVE!
Young and Fresh --- Tongue and Flesh
like good ole Elmer Fudd would say

(bweeding like wabbits)

Oh Little Miss Spring, surely you can't have everything!
Green grass and blue sky --- it's halfway sickening
the way you steal the show with your sunny splendor.
And Poor Old December ... you left him in the cold,
bragging up your warmth and innocent demeanor

(I saw what you did to the snow)

It can all be forgiven though      Truly it can!
I know it might feel like I'm freezing you out

            (but all the cool months are doing it)

... 'tis no excuse      you saw through my ruse
I'm just killing time before the Melancholy Mob
comes back into town.
Remember how they used to hang around Stick in the Mud Lane
poking holes into your joy?

(they annoyed me too)

And what became of the pessimists, the argument-ists,
the I-don't-believe-in-all-this kinda crowd?
Are they all hibernating somewhere like Mother Grizzly?

(If you ask me they can take all advice from this soda pop
fade and fizzly)

Written March 15th, 2016
For the Spring Contest Hosted by Catie Lindsey

Poem of the Day: March 18th, 2016

Placed 8th

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Romanticism |

Life According to Miss Ooh-La-La

She sits perched, like a gorgeous gargoyle, upon the boulder
splotched with spots of mint chocolate ice cream moss - the wind tasting
her lovely locks as if it were spicy cinnamon straight off the tree.
It excites the senses (to put it frankly) watching her gaze
pierce the sapphire roof of the world
with a challenge to be met.

Or was it the twinkle in her smile
that shone like polished ivory, reminding me of the legalities
of elephantine tusks, and the slippery slope of falling
for that gracious grin and hallowed hope.

It could just be, she's got a lasso on my heart,
that takes delight in my vertigo - flipping and flopping
much like an oval shaped wheel.
I'd ask her to grease the hinges, or go back to the drawing board,
but to tell the truth - it adds character to the path
digging dangerously into the dirt dutifully
causing a spray of pebbles to the face of normalcy.

It could just be, that letting go ain't in her vocabulary,
reeling me in like a big fish story in one of those backwater
little ponds, that spawn such discrepancy.
I'd say she's a catch, but that would be cheesy
(though that does bring to mind her chef-like tendencies,
plopping strawberries on my tongue with little tidbits
of Wisconsin sharp cheddar)
It could just be, that life according to Miss Ooh-La-La
couldn't get any better ...

... then again it could just be
I'm waxing eloquently.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Personification |

I miss you

I miss you, 
like the sky misses the stars.
like the streets when there are no cars.
like a government that has no laws,
like music, when it is on pause.

I miss you,
like the desert misses the rain
like an addict without cocaine, 
like a kiss that misses lips
like actors without their scripts.

Copyright © Sharon De Fazio | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |


Don't rush to wash off the sea salt 
drying on your skin;
the hopes it carries from other oceans,
those remain yet to be seen.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |

Red Light

have you ever felt like 
the flashing red light on the roof,
lonely as ever
visible at night, useless by day?

in sync with its partner next door
for a quick kiss over a few flashes only 
then arguing again and again 
night in, night out.

have you ever felt like 
the flashing red light on the roof,
not signaling a warning to keep away
but sending a call for compassion?

using the dark pauses in between 
to yell the same name 
over and over and over
into the emptiness of each night.

have you ever felt like
the flashing red light on the roof,
being your silent cry
only heard by your eternal love?

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Acrostic |

Miss Devonshire: You're Tagged


Charmaine passed me the ball and I don't know what to do with iT Holy cow! Now, I should transfer the tag until John gets mad, sO Another tag, while James is still in The Somerset ZodiaC Restore the ball, erase those codes, don't trace the lines of NazcA Mysteries, enigmas, forget the Druids, the MinotauR All the pyramids, the Count, the King, and old RongorongO Icemen, Amazons and Vikings, leave the day the Sun Stood StilL Nothing about Mayans'rise and fall, catch the ball, bounce it, plaY Endorsed you are, my dear blonde, hit the ball, and play agaiN

Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2009

Details | Narrative |

- A Special Camping Trip -

                                      - I am brave and big boy
                                      - Can I go camping
                                      - Adrian my smallest  grandchild
                                      - I can do it myself
                                      - Where are you going 
                                      - Not very far
                                      - In the garden at great grandmother
                                      - Great grandmother is dead my little friend
                                      - Yes, I know
                                      - The place that she has her gravestone
                                         there will I set up my tent
                                      - At night, I would tell her that I still miss her

          - A true small story ....... Children have many beautiful thoughts and question
                                - However, there became no camping

A-L  Andresen :)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

My Boredom Disease

Like sick allergies, 
Boredom can be passed around

Like a horrid storm,
Boredom can catch you off guard
Hold on for DEAR LIFE!

Like the whooping cough,
Boredom can be serious
If I were you, I’d
Get a vaccination ! 

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |


One is love, 
Zero is everything else. 

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |


imagine the rainbow being
the dark tunnel 
you've been stuck in for years

the lighthouse on the horizon,
the beam 
that gets brighter as it nears

get soaked in the rain,
feel the sun in your heart,
let go of all your fears. 

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Clerihew |

Charlotte Gets Tough with Miss Muffet

Said contrary and crabby Miss Muffet
“Hey eight-legs! Kiss my bare Tuffet!” 
From above and beyond, Charlotte dropped a fine line
And bit the old bag where the sun doesn’t shine…

For Andrea’s clerihew contest

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |


follow on facebook,
adore on pinterest,
fall in love on instagram,
kiss on a hunch,
all under a tree.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |

4 Love

Love is a four letter word
she whispered into his ear,

So is four, as is word
he whispered back into her fear,

Such is "you and I"
cried his heart - she could hear,

Their cheeks hugged, eyes kissed
each shedding a single tear. 

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Limerick |

Miss Priss

<                           once there was a boss we called miss priss
                             like to give orders with snap of wrist
                             file fax make coffee
                             phones radio golly
                             when not looking I blow her big hiss

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |

Summer rain

I looked upon the stars , When I gazed at your face.
I seen mars & flying cars I hope this vision don't fade. 
I wonder why these butterflies want escape the base of my brain. 
Sometimes I think that your love ain't the same.
Your smile turn to a cry like how the sunshine became sudden rain. 
You bring my heart sudden pain why did you walk away . 
All the trust you've gain just to erase.
Please don't change summer rain. 
Please don't fade summer rain. 
I need summer rain to make flowers grow .
And when the hours go past I laugh at all the things we could've had. 
Or should've had. 
Rain pours on the glass after an hour pass 12. 
And all I can think about is how I needed your help. 
I wondered what you see in myself. 
Or did you heal my heart because I needed your help. 
Summer rain you are so far away.
And Every time I complain you go further in the wind. 
Some nights I pretend that we'll be one again.
Summer rain summer rain I hate that you faded away. 
My heart has faded To gray ... 
Without you My heart is Arizona & California in the summer days ...  
You're so far away I prayed for your summer rain. 

Copyright © Keorie McMillan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Miss Muffet

Miss Muffet

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her tuffet
After coming home from the pub

When up came a spider
And sat down beside her
So she smashed it to bits with a club

Now Caroline wouldn’t use
Wouldn’t deign to let loose
With a club - ‘cause she isn’t so thick

And it was not just a thump
No despatch with a bump
But sure death by a huge hockey stick!!!

Copyright © Thomas Mansfield | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy |

Toonami I Miss You So

Once, something we took for granted
Now gone, forever to be mourned.
My source of awesome anime has been transplanted.
Cartoon Network, you face an enemy scorned!

Though it's been so long I still miss it. RIP Tom.

Copyright © Rocky Swartzfager | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |

Dear Miss Monkey Manners VIII

You can't tell me that you didn't see this coming.

Dear Miss Monkey Manners, can you spare a minute? 
I know that you help apes in trouble and I am knee deep in it. 
I have a girl I’ll call Mary Beth, she’s the banana of my eye, 
But I found out that she’s been seen swinging with another guy. 
I could accept it if it were another ape but this guy is a human man, 
I’ve asked around and in the jungle he calls himself Tarzan. 
I’ve been working my way up in hopes of one day leading the troupe, 
Until now I’m finally the most respected challenger in the group. 
I think that I might be alpha worthy, I hope so, but here’s the thing 
Everyone in the whole dang jungle now refers to him as king. 

Dear Alpha male wannabe, are you saying that you know Tarzan? 
If you know where he’ll be on Saturday night, I think I have a plan. 
I know that you want her back and I’m sure that your girl is sweet, 
But only I can do the things that will make his life complete. 
You see he and I have dated before and I know what makes him fall, 
I can do something special for him that’s how he got his jungle call. 
Once we’re back together he won’t remember your girl’s name, 
Then you can be her hero and free her from this shame. 
And as for me and Tarzan, well you’d better stick a banana in your ear, 
Because the screaming sounds of the king are the only sounds you’ll hear.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Clerihew |

Perhaps We'll Discuss Little Bo Peep and Miss Muffet Later -

Old Mother Goose
Frankly speaking was rather loose
The neighborhood was shocked and all in a dander
When she had a brief affair with a well-feathered Gander

When the news reached Jack and Jill
They took that tumble down the hill
Poor Jill lost her drawers and good gracious alive!
Little Jack got a rise in his tattered Levis...

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

It's not Funny

My Parting Gift.

It’s not Funny

Never leave Life’s bus behind.
It’s full of much that rhymes.

Count only on the adventure.
Even if the need for dentures.

Don’t count on the money honey.
From me it's not funny or coming.

Copyright © John Hardison | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |

Little Miss Poet and Spider

Little Miss Poet, Sat at her computer, typing the morning away.
Along came a spider, climbed down her screen, and frightened Miss Poet away.
Little Miss Poet, fell on her duff, as she tripped, backwards over the dog.
When she got up, the spider was smart, and ran into the keyboard.

Low and behold, the fly swatter wouldn’t work, for the spider was safely below.
The spider peaked out, eyeing her as if in a huff, as Miss Poet jumped up and down.
With murderous intent, she flipped over the keyboard, and bounced it up and down.
Just at this point, the spider jumped out and scurried, with his life in his hands.

But the damage was done, the keyboard was unplugged, and terror reigned again.
Little Miss Poet, would have to crawl under the desk, to where the wires began.
There was no doubt, she’d switch to wireless now, but here that was a mute point.
She knew the spider was there, but hidden somewhere, in the stuff on top of her desk.

Little Miss Poet, crawled under the desk, checking and fixing, every wire and plug.
When she came out, there was no spider about, so both relief and worry set in.
As Little Miss Poet, looked down and around, the spider appeared on her arm.
With a scream and a jump, she flicked him off, and tripped over her chair this time.

Unfortunately for this one, the problem wasn’t done, so she attacked jumping forth.
The spider jumped free, but her toe was in need, as her foot connected with the desk.
A few words were uttered, as she jumped around, with foot held high in the air.
Broken toe or not, she vowed to get that snot, so she shouted for her hubby’s help.

He was down stairs, with the trolls you know, and couldn’t seem to come up.
So she swatted with flair, as the spider jumped back, yes, into the keyboard.
At that moment, a Troll walked by with a club , and decided to help her out.
Everything smashed, the problem solved, she sat down at her sons’ computer spot.

Tears in her eyes, at her computers demise, Poor Little Miss Poet, began to write.
This computer was next, to the one from before, and the spider was there, again!
Yep, you guessed, in the keyboard he sat, staring and more pissed than ever before.
The moral my friend, is that you can’t always win, even on a peaceful, beautiful morn.

Little Miss Poet, finally limped away, retreat was the better answer, by far.

PS. This happened, without the Troll, of course.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

Details | Verse |

Self Publishing Give It a Miss

Self-publishing of your books?
They really are a bunch of crooks,
They have you think your approaching wealth,
But all you’ve done is fill your shelf
So keep your cash in your pants,
(If  an offers real, they’ll pay an advance,)
Why taste  the crafty self-publishing honey? 
To get in print, takes more than money

Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2015

Details | Clerihew |

Clerihew-Miss Mona Lisa

 Mona Lisa, the lady I greatly adore
See her sophisticated beauty I implore
Put her portrait not in a large frame, but thin
She will surely give to you all her sourest grin

Written: Oct. 7, 2012

Honorable Mention
Contest: Seeking A Fresh Crop of Clerihews
Judged: 10/20/2012
Poet Sponsor: Andrea Deitrich

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |

Dear Miss Monkey Manners VI

Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I’m in need of your advice,
My boyfriend is a swinger and he isn’t very nice.
I’m a Proboscis Monkey so I exhibit a very prominent schnoz.
And the proposition that he put to me caused me to take pause.
He said that I’d make a perfect mate if I’d under go a tweak,
He wants me to go under the knife and get a larger beak.
But the nose that I was born with is my pride and joy,
And I really don’t want to change it especially for a boy.
He tells me that he loves me and that he’d immediately propose,
If only I would agree to see a doctor and get a bigger nose.

My Dear Gentle Nosey Nelly here’s the reply to your query,
I’m afraid that your boyfriend doesn’t see you very clearly.
If he did I am sure that he would see you as more than just a nose,
There is much more to a woman than the parts that she’ll expose.
So if he hasn’t figured out that what’s important is your heart,
Don’t let yourself be persuaded by him to change your body part.
Unless altering your looks will somehow bring you satisfaction,
Because his view of perfection is nothing more than an abstraction.
Be happy with who you are, a proud Proboscis monkey,
Just make sure whatever you do you don’t let yourself get chunky.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |

Dear Miss Monkey Manners VII

Dear Miss Monkey Manners: I’m a Spider Monkey in need of your help, 
Recently someone yanked my tail and I cried out with a yelp. 
It may seem like a little thing to cry when someone pulls your tail, 
Unless, of course, it’s mating season and you’re the alpha male. 
All of the sudden this younger guy is getting more looks than me, 
And there’s a lot of chatter going on all around the banana tree. 
I recently overheard some talk about putting me out to pasture, 
But with all the Jaguars around this place, a pasture would be disaster. 
So tell me is there a way that I can continue to have fun? 
Please send your answer right away before setting sun. 

My poor, dear Spider friend, please take time tonight to watch the setting sun, 
Then apply that sight to your alphaness and grab your prehensile tail and run. 
Remember to keep the memories of all the girls you’ve had, 
But perhaps it’s best to move along because what happens next is bad. 
There will be a challenger who will have impressively aggressive displays 
And he will not give a banana flip about stories of your glory days. 
So let the girls remember you the way you used to be, 
Instead of getting humiliated for all of the world to see. 
Go find yourself a lonely tree because that where you belong now, 
And if you think that life’s unfair, it’s better than being Jaguar chow.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |


I thought of you again today
It seems your memory gets in my way
I try to forget but I only got regrets
I thought of you again today

Outside it's sunny but I feel funny
I'm cold and blue
So cold cold so so blue
Just can't stop thinking of you

Trying to get a bite to eat
End up ordering your favorite treat
Now I lost my appetite
I'm just not right.
When will this end
I thought of you again

Trying to sleep at night
But I'm wound up to tight
What's wrong with me
Why do I cling to thee
I need to sleep but when? when? when?
I keep thinking of you again and again

Out with my new girlfriend
The date ends before it begins
I must be insane
Calling her your name
I thought of you again and again and again
I thought of you again

Thinking of what to say at your door
Before I can leave you open your door
You look at me and smile
Invite me to stay awhile
You ask should we try again
As I kiss you, how I missed you
I will never ever leave you again
As I love you, again and again.

Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Miss Otis Regrets she's unable to lunch today

    “Miss Otis Regrets she’s unable To Lunch Today”

He tried to dance a tango; but she preferred a waltz;
He served a new fandango; but she cures her meats in salts.

When the lady got her stockings; in some kind of bunch;
The fellow took them off for her; and served them up for lunch.

So he rolled it in a wrapper; something made of corn;
It was very neat and dapper; thus a Southwest dish was born.

Did the fellow get too quip; and the lady took an issue;
And the man was troubled at the toilet; because there was no tissue.

When her nose got out of joint; conversations were a mess;
So he suggested that they stop; and give that crap a rest.

He said I’ll see you latter; she asked him to hang on;
She reminded him of Dark Vader; when just like that was gone.

Perhaps he lacks respect; maybe she’s too pent;
Maybe he’s to brazen; perhaps she likes to vent.

It was such a load of do-do and it smelled like methane gas;
I guess that’s how it goes my friends; when youngsters have such sass.

Copyright © Leonard Taormina | Year Posted 2007

Details | Light Poetry |

Dear Miss Monkey Manners IV

Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I am writing to you for guidance if you please,
I’m seeing a Howler Monkey who likes it when I’m on the stage doing my striptease.
I can’t say that he’s not exuberant or that I feel unappreciated,
But when he yells it will scare the pants right off of the uninitiated.
If I’m up in the spotlight, doing the bump and grind or swinging from a pole,
There’s a deafening howl and everyone drops their pants before I reach my goal.
My boss would like it if my clothes came off Instead of those who watch me work.
I’m afraid that he’ll tell my boyfriend to quiet down and then he’ll go berserk.
I know that I’ll never do my best unless he’s there to watch me on the stage,
How can I tell him to quiet down without hearing his howls of rage?

Dear Gentle Reader, you may not know it but I’ve had some experience with peeling.
When I used to come on stage to do my act the apes would stack up to the ceiling.
I would hit the light dressed as a banana and invite them each to tug on my peel,
I’d love to hear them all as they each gave out with a delighted simian squeal.
One night while I was doing the act and about to land a banana split,
I heard a yell from a Howler Monkey coming from the orchestra pit.
His screams of joy were so sincere that I married him the very next day,
My advice to you is to do the same and leave your boss nothing more to say.
And if you keep your job doing the strip or end up writing a column like this,
Trust me when I tell you that you’ll never get tired of hearing his howls of bliss.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |

Dear Miss Monkey Manners II

Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I hope that you can solve a problem for an old baboon,
I’ve said some things to a dear friend of mine and it makes me feel like I’m a buffoon.
I said that, “God created Charles Darwin because he was so disappointed in monkeys.”
How was I to know when I spoke that he and Darwin’s uncle were at one time bunkies?
I only meant it as a passing humor aimed at pointing out our man like flaws,
I didn’t know that this friend and Charles Darwin shared the same grandpas?
Anyway, now he’s mad at me and called me a bigot so now I need a plan,
I want to show him, that except for their smell, there’s nothing I hold against man?
But if he doesn’t get over it pretty quickly and take that chimp from off his shoulder,
I’m going to get sick of his blue butt attitude and kick him in his banana holder.

My Dear and Gentle Monkey “Man”, I think that the time has come for action,
A stinging shot to his low land region might give us both great satisfaction.
This baboon friend of yours is a member of a new and obnoxious breed,
We must be rid of him and his ilk before political correctness plants a seed.
When the time comes that we can’t make a joke about how man came from we apes,
Is the same time that a never ending stream of flying monkeys from my butt escapes.
Don’t you dare offer up a single syllable of a word aimed at reconciliation.
To make a slam of the works of man is the hallmark of simian civilization.
Instead, the next time you see a group of men walking through your forest setting,
Dare your misguided chum to go up and talk to them, he’ll swing away I’m betting.
There is only one thing more distasteful to me than the babblings of a liberal Baboon,
And that’s one who, when forced to face his own convictions, babbles a different tune.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Haiku |


                                                        loving vibration
                                               media of hand set makes

                                                   until response there
                                            gives miss call after miss call
                                                      if no reply....ugh

For contest: in show me the Funny

Copyright © BL DEVNATH | Year Posted 2013