Best Argyle Poems
Old Lord Harry put up a good front.
He hid socks in his pants as a stunt.
But, his Lady swore
as argyle hit floor
that no organ was found to be blunt.
6/17/14
It seems some did not get this poem so a wee bit of 'splaining is above for all you Desi Arnez fans.
Definition for
FRONT - noun the side or part of an object that presents itself to view or that is normally seen or used first; the most forward part of something. [i.e. the front of his pants]
FRONT - noun in a military sense the front is the FIRING LINE
FRONT - a fake or false personality
This poetic devise is called a double entendre [a play on words]- a word or phrase open to two interpretations, one of which is usually risqué or indecent.
ORGAN - is also being used this way - The human ***** is an external male sexual organ - as well as a musical instrument made of pipe
ARGYLE - a pattern composed of diamonds of various colors on a plain background, used in knitted garments such as sweaters and socks.
or ARE GUILE - someone who is sly or cunning
even the word BLUNT has another meaning here since a BLUNT sword would be of little use
Categories:
argyle, funny, gender,
Form:
Limerick
On the wind-swept Nebraska prairie sits a building in wretched shambles,
Surrounded by a sagging fence and overgrown with prickly brambles.
It was once a bustling one-room school house, abandoned long ago.
Its weather-beaten clapboards, I judged to be a century old or so.
Atop its cupola, swaying listlessly in the wind, was a rusted weather vane.
Eerily, at the whim of the wind, the school bell still tolled now and again.
Two ancient oak trees stood sentinel seeming to provide a guard,
To ensure that trespassers like me would value its past with high regard.
I warily opened the door, its rusty hinges protesting, to take a look inside.
Mice skittered across the dusty floor and cobwebs I had to brush aside.
There were well-worn desks, a blackboard and pot-bellied stove for heat.
To muse about its past and the ghosts of scholars of yore, I took a seat.
I pictured the schoolmarm who taught readin', writin' and basic math,
Who struggled to maintain order with imps who suffered her fearful wrath!
Little girls looked so prim in their pinafores and gingham frocks;
The boys wore knickers, buckled boots and gaudy argyle socks!
I could hear the droning recitations of pupils whose attention would digress,
To the ticking of the school clock anticipating the merriment of recess!
I noted relief on the teacher's face when at last the kids were released.
I sensed that she felt she had been nurturing a horde of wild beasts!
Categories:
argyle, nostalgia, school,
Form:
Rhyme
Illuminate her rusted locks
to strip her husk chagrin
as the water whipping silver spray
swirled heavy, pulls you in
This argyle blue is painful
'gainst your skin of yellow fall
to limbs bent thin of daisy stems
in an instant, rather small.
And yet you wish to join the fish
in their underwater parade
as nightfall casts it's meager light
on the plankton confetti cascade
Her hull is jewel bestudded
with a tanzanite chandelier
as the grief of pirate widows
she holds to her bosom dear
So tonight the twilight ball begins
complete with yearning violins
and dance you will as the lightning sings
and the ship crowns you as her ruin king.
Categories:
argyle, mystery, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
If I have the time I’ll cook your beef,
Clean your kitchen, fix you a pie.
Sit and listen, sigh and cry.
Be your best friend, to both our relief.
If I have the inclination I’ll be there.
To mend your argyle socks and sweep your floor.
Things will be lovelier than ever before.
We’ll be married this time, and you will care
If I have the money, I’ll travel by plane
All dolled up, I’ll surprise you with my pretty
Well laugh and smile and be insanely witty
What am I saying? I’m being inane
You were the one who left me, Mr. Wow.
Broke my heart, shamed me incredibly sadly.
Without any guilt, made me feel badly.
I’ll not be back, ever, I’m smarter now.
Written: 12-11-2019
Contest: If I have the Time For an Enclosed Rhyme
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Categories:
argyle, goodbye,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
Argyle socks, kilts,
Scottish tartan scarves
and Knox — aye
Mary, Queen Mary
shall you marry Darnly
for love? Nay...
Torches, kilts and song.
Heather in hands, waving
but Knox knocks their merry
socks off, eccentrically calling
Mary, a Jezebel queen.
Stuart clings to her Catholicity,
as she permits worshipping
as Protestants — not good
enough for Knox. Of kilts and tales
told, no dancing, singing or drinking fold —
bearded and bold John rattles.
Knox’s mentor burned at the stake.
His ire, his hand raised, will not accept
the same fate, so he rains down hellfire.
Kilts and bagpipes, boots marching,
music playing. Aye, Mary Queen of Scotland
with drumsticks banging, the pretty thing
rules with her heart...loses her head.
3/22/2021
Julia Ward’s Scotland
Categories:
argyle, angst, religion, sad, woman,
Form:
Free verse
Written: September 10, 2023
______________________________________________________________
In the tapestry of twilight's shroud,
Where dreams and wonders are allowed,
Jewel winks, shooting stars ignite,
Guiding us through the cosmic night.
A rubied mystery, the universe's womb
Whispers secrets, casting gloom.
But within this darkness, a symphony plays.
A serenade of stardust, a celestial ballet
Astral ditties dance on moonlit cobalt.
Their melodies are enchanting, never to halt.
Nestled on the wings of thunderbirds,
They soar across the heavens, spreading words.
Words of love, of hope, of dreams,
Of endless possibilities, it seems.
Strewing drizzles of diamond dust,
They shimmer and sparkle in a cosmic gust.
With each twinkle, a wish is made.
As shooting stars glide and cascade.
Their paths are a canvas, a masterpiece,
A sight that fills the heart with peace.
Argyle tapestry they weave,
In patterns of love and belief,
Lyrical luster of garnet ember,
Igniting passion, extinguishing slumber
On a summer night, they paint,
Colors of wonder never faint.
The stars, as diamonds, shine so bright.
Guiding us through the endless night.
Stardust serenade, a celestial hymn,
Bringing comfort when the world feels grim
So let us gaze upon the sky.
And watch the shooting stars fly by.
For in their beauty, we find solace and grace.
A reminder of the magic in this vast space.
Let the stardust serenade cram our hearts.
And ignite within us a love that never departs.
Categories:
argyle, analogy, beautiful, beauty, environment,
Form:
Rhyme
Spaceward: genesis, obedience, fathomless: universe.
In Cerulean: lambent, sullen, discernible: Close ignite.
With harmony: hypaethral, skyward, aether: womb hiccups
Whelm time: serenade, stardust, drizzles: diamond dust,
Overall trends: extinguish, slumber, wonder: celestial hymn,
By extolling: Argyle, twinkle, soothing: miraculous rule
Alabaster Gypsum: portholes, peering, ogling: rain glints
Rubicund Jocund: ventral, sheqalim, vivid: lured stars
Exalt air: Blistering, bleeding, molting: Corolla collide
Orotund Moire: Kaleidoscopic, sentient, dusk: carnal life
Grab fistful: Dripping, purple, precipitation: Sunburnt sky
Dodging Venus: Flytrap, ill-wishers, pyramids: Shift astern.
This variation on sonnet XL1 to illustrate what Kuhlmann intended .
kuhlmann is a verse poem of two phrases interspered with three related monosyllabic stem- words(nouns,adjectives )with an integral title.The label and form is derived from the baroque poet Quirinus Kuhlmann's 50 sonnet
form Love-kiss XLI
Poem inspired by the sonnet penned by Brian Stand
Categories:
argyle, analogy, appreciation, sky, stars,
Form:
Sonnet
I'm glad to see that comin' back in chic,
Are socks that I ain't worn in quite a streak.
Argyle socks are now the rage!
Even at my elder age,
I'll sport 'em so I won't be called a geek!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Categories:
argyle, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
I opened my eyes,under.
A bleak atmosphere-
deserted I beheld.
Sinuous channels flowing.
Whimpering
Sounds escaped,
As I walked on vast layer
Of permafrost.
Beyond the horizon,the
World lay bare.
With my heart in my
Hand,I passed thru
Argyle And Hellas,amid
eerie Sounds echoing as
dust
Storms circled,forming
Shadowy figures.
Storms etching
The terrain,light
Coloured dust particles
Created shifting light
And dark patterns.
How came I into this
Voiceless world?
Three thousand miles,
Across is chasm;beneath
Lay the throne of Hades
I thought.
Drawing near,I jolted
As I heard a voice.
In the ship, this voice
Echoed in my ears-
"Welcome to earth!"
Categories:
argyle, adventure, earth, environment, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
"Catch that cloud with an upturned eye,"
Said the spy with the sourpuss, sober cry,
When or whether, the weather of feathers fly high,
What are we but watchers of the sighing fly?
Whose wings chop winds with whirling rolls,
Bent in the front of the centerfold gold,
A pyrite prison ground in English pound patrol.
Pussy-foot in parchment, purloin politic by drip control.
So when the locked choke of rotten blood of shank and loin,
Beneath a twist of tumbled turn, of thumb and flipped coin,
Tossed in the tunnels of tin towers by the ton tops join,
To the castles in the east tipped spires spiked to your groins,
Popping, and prodding in the pupils of the papal pedophiles,
Emerging human minds from a wine for a while,
Slurping, and burping on the barfed-bile soaked brain smile,
Smirking snake coils caravan diamond skinny socks of argyle.
"Now catch the sky with an upturned eye,"
Said the spy with the dank dribble goblet drunk dry.
Categories:
argyle, people, political, prison, rap,
Form:
Rhyme
In the Southwest of Scotland
Marin county Argyle-shire
Extends a narrow mass of land
Known only as Kintyre
A certain mull on which is known
What sea the eye adore
As glitter to a rolling mist
As waves align the shore
Not far from there in Campbeltown
Five miles or maybe more
Sat Duncan Blaine McGeachy
His hat upon the door
Young daughter Isabella
Bound for distant farms
Alas to Rocky Mountain House
Clutches in her arms
Where Peter Paul of Eckville
Did spy the raving lass
More fair than any local
And quite a lovely yass
Peter Paul and Isabella
Rose the Adams pack
Jack Loreen and Mary
James Peter at the back
I remember James Peter
Marge would say J. P.
And when she called him Jimmy Joe
He’d hide behind a tree
Old Jimmy Joe he got to know
How grievous love could be
He stood inside a few short days
More tall than any tree
His mother Isabella
His darling Marjorie
Would both depart on one foul whisk
The maker for to see
Of Jim and Marge had come a brood
As fine a brood could be
Of Randy Eddy and Janelle
And my sweet Laura Lee
Categories:
argyle, father daughter, grandchild, granddaughter,
Form:
Ballad
A rising, young starlet named Ruth,
Unaware that it was uncouth,
Wore sneakers and socks
With her formal frocks,
‘Til Miss Manners taught her the truth.
Designers now over their shocks,
Are thinking quite out of the box.
Though they are annoyed,
They are duly employed
Sewing diamonds on argyle socks.
For Carolyn's Ccontest
Categories:
argyle, funny,
Form:
Limerick
He mighta fooled the neighbor kids
when he complain, "Chimney all plugged up!"
Mighta have fooled our Saint Bernard
when he say. "Nice dawg you have there sonny."
But! That man with them argyle sox and tennis shoes
pillow stuffed beard lop-slide-sided
He aint NOOO WAY! Santa Claus
That fool be our skinny ol dad!
Categories:
argyle, childhood, father, children, funny
Form:
'Tis the most wonderful time of the year,
When kids from two to ninety are full of good cheer!
Christmas Trees have been trimmed and are shining bright!
The kids are behaving so well much to their mothers' delight!
Santa sits on his throne at Penney's hearing little kids' pleas,
Kids promising when he visits he'll find cookies and cheese!
Shopping malls and city streets are aglow with fine decorations!
Smiling Salvation Army folks are ringing bells seeking donations!
The Christmas Parade is passing by with cheering folks 'long its route!
Snuggly wrapped carolers sing timeless carols while strolling about!
Frenzied last minute shoppers laded with gifts rush to and fro -
Argyle socks for Pa, perfume for Ma and a snood for Aunt Flo!
The town square looks like a scene from Currier and Ives!
The shrill siren of a fire truck is heard as Santa arrives!
His hearty Ho! Ho's! echo from the walls of the town hall,
As he wishes MEEERRRYYY CHRISTMAS! to one and all!
'Round cozy hearths Dads read the story of the Babe's Birth.
Old Grandfather Clock tolls ten and kids are shooed off to their berth,
To sleep with one eye open to glimpse old Santa and his reindeer!
'Tis truly the most wonderful, wonderful time of the year!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
argyle, christmas, time,
Form:
Rhyme
Jean, Jean wis young an' alive till Ah gied her tatties and neeps;
Noo she's bein' seek as a dug, it fairly gies me the creeps.
Bonnie Mary O' Argyle took a trip tae the Brig O' Doon,
She took a dook oaf the parapet, ended up nearly bein' drooned!
Wee sleakit, cooerin', timorous beastie, ye must think it a sin!
Aw the lassies a' ever kent, wanted tae stab me wi' a pin.
Blythe Hae a' Been on Yon Hill, where a Tippling Ballad ah Wrote;
Gude Ale Keeps the Heart Aboon, when ye drink an awfy lote.
Categories:
argyle, april, humorous,
Form:
Verse