I was sitting on the corner, stoned
When out of the blue, my dead aunt phoned
How could this be, she rests in peace
Right beside my loving niece
I answered the phone, and my auntie said
"I know you think that I am dead"
"I'm alive"- my auntie moaned
Or- could it be that you're just- "Stoned"
I rolled over and went back to sleep,
counting red and yellow sheep.
I heard auntie say, "the sheep are real cheap."
Then I rode off in an old broken down jeep.
Maybe I needed to stop getting in the stoned zone?
Now the sheep farm I do own.
My loving niece Joan said, "be carful Charles."
I did not listen, so I am now all alone.
Christmas Tree Boy waved a star on a stick
Said “abra ca dabra” in a brogue that was thick
Danced the holiday dance around the tree.
He was incredibly silly said my weird Aunt, Aunt Vee.
Aunt Edna’s cauldron was full of elixir green and high
I’m making myself a date, a wonderful, attentive guy.
The rest of us snickered at her unusually clever wit.
But in a few hours she had created a man named Chit.
Chit was the perfect date; he laughed at every joke.
Patted her back when he thought she might choke.
Kept quiet unless Aunt Edna squeezed his head.
Make me one too said her sister, I’ll call him Ted.
We grow our family exponentially.
Siblings Uncles Aunts Cousins and little ones.
Take care of our own.
Worku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Warmest childhood memories of
my favourite aunt's country kitchen
with her homemade sourdough bread
and fresh clover honey gathered
from her very own bee hives
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
That’s the last time we let Aunt C dress the turkey they said.
We all stared at the beast, dressed in all kinds of thread.
He had on striped tights, his feathers were dyed in a gorgeous way.
Aunt C always goes way over the top, with fashion she loves to play.
Give me a task Great Aunt Gladys said. I can crochet anything at all.
She had been a braggart since before she could stand tall.
We asked her to crochet a tire swing, which she did.
Another task, she begged me and my cousin Sid.
Sid told her to crochet a pie. Blueberry? Was her ask.
She did it too, it was a gorgeous answer to this task.
I thought I would be tough. Can you make a strawberry plant?
Within a day and a half, she had made one, she was a great aunt!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Each day begins with pain refined to grace,
the body bent but never breaking—yet.
The mirror has no room for soft embrace.
A leap, a turn—each muscle must erase
the doubt that lingers like a hidden debt.
Each day begins with pain refined to grace.
The music calls, a strict and silent chase,
no step misplaced, no ragged breath to fret.
The mirror has no room for soft embrace.
Blisters bloom where satin ribbons lace,
yet pirouettes refuse to pause or let~
each day begins with pain refined to grace.
The stage demands what training can’t replace:
a will that burns but never leaves a sweat.
The mirror has no room for soft embrace.
And when the final curtain starts to close,
the ache remains, a ghost the dancer does not forget.
Each day begins with pain refined to grace.
The mirror holds no room for soft embrace.
The accompanying memoir vignette can be found at poetrysoup.com/short_stories/turning_pointe_13606
Old aunt Sally
Was rather smelly
She ate kippers in bed
Off uncle Pat’s head.
Made candles each year
From the wax in her ear
Kept her toenails in a jar
In the boot of her car.
Made knitted underwear
From her own hair
Stuck a hose up her nose
That reached to her toes.
But apart from that she was perfectly normal.
Happy Birthday To My Aunt
Today is your day
To celebrate your
Brilliant Birthday.
You are another year older
Another year bolder
And oh so full of Gold
Happy Birthday To My Aunt
You are my inspiration
You lighten up my life with your smiles
And Your Voice
You make me happy when I visit you and spend time talking to you.
You are the brightest star in my life and guide me to become a better person with all of your wisdom
Happy Birthday To My Aunt
Enjoy your special day
And once again
Happy Birthday To My Aunt
We all wanted to inherit Aunt Ida’s ruby choker.
It is gorgeously set with rubies, emeralds and diamonds.
Are they real or fakes? Someone asked. .
Carol, a very annoying in-law.
She should have no right to this gorgeous piece.
We lied and told her they are all faux gems.
We know better.
But we know another thing about this relative.
She is a thief, so lying to her was easy.
I would wear it anyway, she told us.
Aunt Ida always cautioned us to never wear it to bed.
Our cousin Lulu inherited it.
Wore it to bed.
Was found the next day, deceased.
That’s when we decided Carol should have it.
We told her it would be good luck to wear it to bed.
This time of year is magical for me,
remembering fluffy snow as far as I could see.
I was only a little one of three,
when my loving aunt took me shopping and to tea.
I fell in love with a snowglobe as we ate crackers and brie,
thanking her with a huge heart full of love and glee.
My loving aunt will always be,
in my snowglobe we both did agree.
My Aunt Ruby was a bingo fanatic.
Every Friday she'd get her hair done ~
a visit to the 'Strands To Go' salon.
She left feeling like a graceful queen.
Friday nights were sacred at the bingo hall.
She'd pull out her money from her purse
and buy as many bingo cards as possible
then head to her favourite table to wait.
She'd light a cigarette to calm the nerves
and say a little prayer hoping to win big.
Someone had to win the jackpot ~ why not her.
She prepared her dabber and braced herself.
The bingo caller was always right on time.
Her cards always ready and perfectly aligned.
She waited with bated breath for numbers called
loud and clear as they possibly could be.
And so it was that every week on Friday,
Aunt Ruby spent her time doing what she loved best:
smoking, dabbing, and chatting among other devotees
... even coming home odd times with some cash winnings.
AP: 1st place 2025
slowly, so slowly
she has become frail, fragile,
but her spirit shines...
vibrancy, vim and vigor
still burst with lustrous life-force
I look so harmless and unassuming, I am Peter’s aunt of course
He was a sickly child, but now he is on Marvel’s watchlist in full force.
Part of me thinks he might possibly be Spiderman, but I could be wrong.
There is so much energy in Stan Lee’s magic comic book series, long.
There are many comic book versions of who I really am.
My identity was not kept secret by the readers, and I was a gem.
History galore followed my antics; I was portrayed as everyone’s aunt.
To think of my nephew Peter Parker as Spiderman? I simply can’t!
To be engaged or married to me is almost sure to result in death you see.
I have had many husbands, fires, floods, and villains burgle me.
All of this angst and anguish was created by the wizard, old Stan Lee.
I was finally wounded and killed by the Green Goblin, on mainstream TV.
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