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Best Fun Poems

Below are the all-time best Fun poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of fun poems written by PoetrySoup members

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See Also:

Poems are below...


New Fun Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Fun poems are below this new poems list.

Methamphetamine Really Isn't Fun Anymore by Lunsford, Bryan
It started off as fun by Duffy, Alex
ANGELS HAVING FUN by Talbot, Mick
Alcohol Fun - Ode To Tim by Scheidel, Philip
NIGHT OF FUN by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Spring Fun by Fame, Frankii
Having fun in the Rain by Rodeheaver , Julie Leigh
Welcoming Fun by Sands, Heidi
Summer Was Fun On that noisy Mulberry Street by Crisci, Andrew
Great Day Of Fun by Asuncion, Bernard F.

View all new Fun Poems

The Best Fun Poems

 
Details | Fun Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Ice Cream

''Like Ice Cream''

Having ice cream with you, 
Brightens the entire portrait in my youth.
Like catnip for a cat 
-- the     Reese's    fun never stops!
Like monkeys in a zoo, above a tasty sherbet treetop.

Ice Cream with you!
How sweet,  the imagery of 31 different treats 
Cold butter and  salty Placid water, with the works 
Amaretto peaches, and slushy sauce  --- twerk
Dandelion haven- above a marshmallow rocky road
Fireflies flicker around the fresh Lemon Drop Sky
A delightful sundae breeze on the crest of my tongue 
 Soft frozen chocolate dessert, nothing can go amiss 
 
Ice Cream with You!
So many to choose from, 
Savor the delicious flavor 
---of Butterscotch homemade rum

There's no other place I'd rather be
Lost Inside this forever hazel mint joy scenery 
The ultimate indulgence in one icy bite
A cream coconut cherry delight 
-served on the side with apple pie
In a cup, on a cone, my vanilla waffle boy 
Everything-- about-- you-- roams free 
like tubs of ice cream dreams

Listen to the sound of soft sprinkles cinnamon
The happy feeling that melts when you're around
I'm packing a giant scoop of Ice Cream from your heart

Adoring and Embracing Life
Every time you say the words
...I love you...

:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Fun Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Please, Pull Up a Chair

I’d like you to bring me a dinner for two -
A serving for me and a serving for you.
I’ll order up something that we two can share.
Please bring it, then sit with me! Pull up a chair!

We’ll start with a salad. I hope you won’t mind 
this salad will be of the specialty kind, 
the kind made of rainchokes and fiddlehead roots,
and topped with wassava and sharkflower shoots. 

And after our salad, we’ll have the main dish:
some Teek Bourguignon, or lardines if you wish
See, it just doesn’t matter what food that we eat,
as long as you join me! Please, pull up a seat!

Then after our meal, some dessert will be nice;
I’ll order us up some sweet cragberry ice!
We’ll top it all off with some coffee flown in 
especially from the small island of Dwin.

I’ll thank you, dear waiter, for serving my needs;
I’ll tip you with plenty of Dol-yapper seeds
For, you see, I don’t eat alone, not anywhere!
So bring it, then sit with me! Pull up a chair!  


Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2017



Details | Fun Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Concrete Snowman

                                                    THE BLACK
                                                    SATIN HAT
                                                    SAT TIGHT
                                        ON THE YOUNG MANS BALD
                                                    HEAD. HIS 
                                                EYES BLACK AS 
                                            NIGHT STARED INTO
                                              NOTHINGNESS. IN 
                                                 FRONT OF HIM
                                                      WERE 3
                                              PATHS WHERE THE
                                           CHILDREN HAD ROLLED 
                     THREE BALLS OF SNOW MUCH EALIER THAT VERY DAY. 
                                         PATCHES OF GREEN GRASS 
                                          STUCK THROUGH PACKED
                                                FREEZING SNOW.
                                        IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS FACE
                                A CROOKED CARROT POINTED TOWARD 
                            THE HOUSE WHERE CHILDREN SAT LOOKING
                             OUT THEIR WINDOW AT THEIR NEW FOUND
                              FRIEND. HIS BUTTON MOUTH SHAPED FOR
                                HIM TO LOOK HAPPY SEEMED TO SMILE 
                                  AT THEM AS THEY STARTED TO BLOW
                                       KISSES AT THEIR WONDERFUL 
                                                  NEW SNOWMAN.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.27.2014


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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D-Day in Malta:::co-write

We met in Valletta city on a fine November day
Introductions...hugs and kisses; we got talking straight away.
All agreed to go sight-seeing – architecture , harbour view
Made a stop to buy an ice-cream where there is a constant queue .
We strolled on and at Cordina’s chose al fresco to sit down
Next to regal Queen Victoria, a stone lady with a crown.
Drinks were ordered and pastizzi, which were followed by some cakes
Freshly baked and appetizing, all adorned with chocolate flakes.
We were served by cherub Fabio busy running out and in
Second time the badge said Mario, then we found that he’s his twin.
Jan and hubby soaked the sunshine, the Calluses hugged the shade
Those around spoke multilingual, a musician plied his trade.
We stayed there and spoke for ages, watched the tourists walking by.
Valentina took our photos; she is young and sweet as pie.

Jan and Bob will be returning in two years on Malta’s shore
Although Maurice has predicted it will be a year before!
They will then be celebrating married bliss with silver ware
All on Soup will be invited; this occasion is to share.
That’s a promise made for keeping – friends will meet for sure once more
We shall have some cake and snickers; sweet surprises lie in store!

--------------------------------------------------------------------
Fun poem ~ co-written by Paul-Jan-Valentina  on 2/11/2014


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014

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She collected sea shells, I collected sand - Repost


She collected sea shells, I collected sand She collected sea shells, I collected sand She searched for the perfect one I reached down my hand I carried a bucket A basket she did whirl Mine was filled with tiny grains Hers with mother of pearl She came out each morning Me, just late at night She adored the sunrise I loved the moon light Then one day it happened My alarm clock didn’t ring I woke to a rising sun It was the weirdest thing I ran down to the shoreline My bucket in my hand It’s then I saw her gorgeous face While I collected sand I found a perfect seashell And watched her eyes grow wide She held out her basket I placed the shell inside Then she reached down before me And gathered in her hand I held out my bucket She filled it up with sand And now each day and evening We walk along the shore She told me that she loves me And her I do adore So if you see us out there Strolling hand in hand Know...she’s collecting sea shells And I’m collecting sand This is one I posted when I first arrived here, I thought I'd share it again. :)


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017

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pun with eggs

Benedict was tired, he’d been driving all day.  
This was his last delivery, 2 tonnes of eggs delivered to Safeway.  
The kid came out of nowhere, stared Benedict in the face,
He tried to brake, then swerved, in the wrong place.

The scene was chaos, emergency services scramble into action,
Ambulance officer, Florentine put Benedict’s legs into traction,
loaded him in the ambulance and quickly whisked him from the site.
The bystanders hoped that Benedict would be all white!

Sergeant Skillet arrived on the scene, he was feeling a little queasy.
A witness came forward and told Skillet the truck went over easy.
Skillet gleefully took a statement, finally a case he could crack.
He poached a pen from Constable Quiche, wrote it down on his back.

The clean up took some time, it was a delicate operation.
The fire brigade, were walking on “eggshells”, had been since they left the station.
Scene commander, Dumpty, directed the crew from a nearby wall.
If things went wrong, he knew he’d be the one to take the fall.

A nearby, protest group, trying to shake loose the yoke of oppression,
were called over to help, clean the streets, for these young folk a good lesson.
It’s not all about being self, centred from the cradle to the casket.
And to remember the old adage, Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. 


Copyright © old man emu | Year Posted 2017

Details | Fun Poem | Create an image from this poem.

That's Some Trick

Bewitched again by autumn's laggard spell
Like alchemy, green leaves are turned to gold
Although the summer still has dreams to sell
I watch fall's silent sorcery unfold

Brisk morning breezes hint of coming cold
Forgotten are the yellow daffodils
The grass is brown where robins once patrolled
Who now, I'm sure, are sunning in Negril

And yet it seems leaves change almost at will
As fall performs his yearly slight of hand
Replacing summer heat with twilight chill
And leafy green to russet on demand  

While autumn draws attention from my eyes
It tricks me not to notice how time flies


    by Daniel Turner
Negril is a tourist destination in Jamaica 




Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

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Poetry Soup Kitchen

-Poetry Soup Kitchen-

Grab your aprons and spoon
Today we will not think of the stars and the moon,

Open your eyes, be grateful for all we have
Together we can paint the world
In any which way we desire

Let's give, live and celebrate the New Year
Poetry Soup Style
Happy New Year 
2015


By:PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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The Elves Snow Party


Away up north where it’s snowing they say
the elves are preparing for Christmas day.
Big elves little elves, busier than bees
All building toys, for under Christmas trees.

Some work with hammers others building bikes,
some riding through the room on brand new trikes.
Tiny elf voices ringing loud and clear,
everyone’s full of love and Christmas cheer.

Suddenly the chatter stops; all are still,
Santa walked in the room with book and quill.
Looking down at his book, Santa Clause stared,
then lifted his eyebrows as he declared,

Today I looked inside my books
and I found that we are ahead,
and thought because you worked so hard 
we shall all go outside instead.
Misses Claus made lots of sweet treats
so let’s all eat and be hearty,
for today here at the North Pole
all elves shall have a snow party.

Quick as a wink the elves they disappeared,
Santa just smiled as he tugged at his beard.
Laughing he watched his little friends scatter
and soon the mountains echoed with laughter.

Snowballs were flying, snowmen taking form,
and hot chocolate kept little elves warm.
They were sledding, skiing, skating all day,
see, elves aren’t simply, all work and no play.



Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.29.2014
Contest: Children’s Christmas or Holiday Tale
1st place


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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The Flight of Bebo

Bebo was a bird
who could not fly
He kept flapping his wings 
'cause he knew he must try

There were two other birds 
that were laughing at him
As he was jumping and flapping
up high on a limb

It must be so hard 
to be stuck in a tree
Said, those two silly birds
That were laughing at me

I do not like you
get out of my tree
Don't you have somewhere to go?
Don't you have somewhere to be?

Bebo then said
let me get back to my endeavor 
Or, I'll be stuck in this tree
forever and ever

He knows he's a bird
he eats worms and sings
He just needs a good breeze
to get under his wings

Bebo worked hard all week 
to get into the air
Then he started to cry
Yelling, this isn't fair

With tears down his cheeks
Bebo looked at the sky
He said, I know I'm a bird
so why can't I fly?

The wind then spoke out
and said, It's not how you try
You must climb to the top
You must get really high

Then open your wings
and face into me
I will help you find flight 
just get up there, you'll see

Bebo went to the top
of his lonely old tree
He opened his wings
and, waited to see

The wind then picked up
and, carried him high
Bebo was laughing with joy
'cause now he could fly

From that day on
Bebo was happy with flight 
He said goodbye to his tree
and, then he flew out of sight


Copyright © Roger Horsch | Year Posted 2013

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A Debutante's Ball To Remember

A Debutante’s Ball to Remember
In the autumn of my life, oft have I recalled that superb summer night, when I finally experienced my long-awaited heart’s delight. Family and close friends were all ready for my entry into society, to celebrate it with a grand debutante’s ball filled with gaiety.
In a dreamlike state, I felt like a princess with a golden crown, making my grand entrance wearing a champagne chiffon gown. With matching gloves, and a pair of satin shoes on my tiny feet, my auburn hair was adorned with butterflies and posies sweet.
The ballroom was magically transformed with gas lights all aglow, and a glittering chandelier reflected on a highly polished mahogany floor. As the orchestra played, my body and soul were enraptured and consumed by its rendition of Ravel’s enthralling “La Valse” which pervaded the room.
Elegant ladies were all dressed to the nines in exquisite pastel gowns of winter white, baby blue, powder pink, pale peach and beautiful browns. In tacit competition to out-best each other, social charms were well-honed, as they daintily fanned themselves and gossiped animatedly in hushed tones.
Refined gentlemen in their finely-tailored tails navigated the room to mingle, keeping an eye out for eligible heiresses beautiful, graceful, and single. Wafts of mild masculine colognes came from discretely dabbed faces and hair; while the fresh feminine floral scent of French perfumes permeated the air.
Armed with a full dance card, I waltzed the night away with ardent admirers, curtsying and coquettishly smiling, moving on to more exciting suitors. My enchanting evening climaxed with Strauss’s “Vienna Waltz” filling the hall. Oh, what a tale I will have to tell as my granddaughter prepares for her first ball!
11-21-2014


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014

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Inspired Muses

Inspired muses reach out from the page
To touch the hearts and minds of those who read
Their presence in descriptive rhymes, a sage
In words of ink your thoughts become a seed

I wonder if it's ever crossed your mind
Someone in years to come might feel your muse
Will it be inspiration they will find
Or will your words just leave them more confused?

And yet we bleed our muse to feel the high
Then cover up the blood in metaphors
We make them laugh, so no one sees us cry
Those fears we hide in words forevermore

But muses rarely ever get the blame
Cause down below, they wisely sign your name.


    by Daniel Turner


Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016

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Fall and Rise of a Poet

The poet said, I'll write no more!
Erato has walked out the door!
Love has left, and nothing does remain!

She was my Muse, my love, my life!
Without her, all has turned to strife!
Now all I hear is lost love's sad refrain!

I tried to give the poet cheer,
but he would hardly let me near.
With tears and sighs, he looked a sorry sight!

I said I'd take him for a drink
(or two), and give him pause to think
about his life, this fateful, mournful night.

At length, he said he'd tag along,
and so we joined the merry throng
inside the local tavern, down the lane.

He said, I'm drinking to forget!
I nodded solemnly, and yet,
I knew with time his smile he would regain.

A sing-along was in full swing,
and soon we too began to sing.
And sure enough the poet's smile returned.

We drank and sang into the night,
as mournful moods were put to flight,
and all the table candles had been burned.

I helped him home, past closing time,
and on the way he wrote a rhyme.
I told him (truthfully) I was impressed!

He laughed and said, Thank you, my friend!
And I was sure that in the end
the poet's pen would not have time to rest!





Copyright © Robert Haigh | Year Posted 2017

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The Ferris Wheel

I can't describe just how I feel,
when I go round on a Ferris wheel,
the lights, they shine so bold and bright,
above the carnival grounds tonight.

My mood is uplifted into the air,
as my heart beats without a care,
I feel so free, as if I could fly,
with nothing between the ground and I.

The cool night wind flows in my hair,
the people look so small, way down there,
I hold my breath as I go over the top,
a feeling, surreal, I don't want to stop.

As fear escapes and I enjoy the ride,
I can't help but look down, over the side,
I am up among the stars and the moon,
an exciting feeling that ends, all too soon.






Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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The Dog of my Life

Shakespearean Sonnet

I remember the day I picked you,
With your sweet little puppy dog eyes.
For my heart was searching for love too,
When I looked down and heard your soft cries.

Your brothers and sisters were running,
They were after a fallen clothes peg,
But there was a puppy so stunning 
Trying hard to get up on my leg.

Four years it has been since that moment
And I thank God daily for his gift
Each day you give me such enjoyment 
Your love has given my heart a lift.

Today I know as clear as can be,
I didn’t pick you; rather you picked me.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.26.2014
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton 
Contest: Pets
2nd


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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HELP

I knew this day would come
When I'd lose you from my sight
I won't be able to devour you
I'll miss that scrumptious bite

Seems everyday you were there for me
You were my afternoon delight
So rich, nutty, and delicious
I should have held you tight

I feel so down without you
My senses are getting numb
You gave me such a pick me up
To your pleasure I'd succumb

I see you through the window
With my sad and longing eyes
I crave just one taste of you
Can't you hear my heartfelt cries

This machine wont take my quarters
I've tried again and again
I need you, my snickers bar
Anyone got change for a ten



Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

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My New Year's Resolutions: Humor

I have tracked my New Year's Resolutions 
over the years these are my fantastic results.

Resolution One

2011: I will try to be more attentive to Lauren.
2012: I will pay more attention to what's her name...ah...Lori...I know I'm close.  
2013: I will try for reconciliation with Lo.
2014: I will try to be more attentive to Carol.

Resolution Two

2011: I will walk 35,000 steps a day this year.
2012: I will definitely start my walking routine this year at 10,000 steps a day.
2013: I will walk once a week.
2014: I will try to drive past a gym at least once a week.

Resolution Three

2008: I will not stare at women's cleavage .
2009: I will cut down the amount of time I stare at women's cleavage.
2010: I will stop being so obvious when I stare at women's cleavage.
2011: I will attempt to stop getting caught staring at women's cleavage.
2012: I will stop increasing the time I spend staring at women's cleavage.
2013: I will seek professional help as directed by the courts.
2014: I will try to stop starring at the female prison guards cleavage.

Resolution Four

2011: I will not let my siblings push me around.
2012: I will stick up for myself with at least one of my siblings.
2013: I will not let my siblings bullying depress me.
2014: I will talk to Dr. Potter and the group about my siblings.

Resolution Five

2008: I will read Clarissa this year all 1534 pages.
2009: I did not read Clarissa I will read Varney The Vampire all 866 pages.
2010: I will read the first 50 pages of Varney The Vampire this year.
2011: I will read some articles in the newspaper this year.
2012: I will try and finish the comics section this year.
2013: I will read one strip in the cartoon section this year.
2014: I will read the fortune cookie thingy the next time I have Chinese Food. 

18~12~2014
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Contest Name: New Year's Resolution 



Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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Words

              Words

 I don't have nothing really to post right now
 However, I will read your poems first, 
 In hopes inspiration follows and falls into place

Please do not think I'm here to drop a bomb 
It's just a fair warning on how, I'm here
"To Rock Your World"
Allow me kindly to introduce myself, 
I'm as Sweet as they come 
I'm not the enemy, but a poet friend
In time you will see, and hunger my name

 I'm not new to any poetry world
 In time you will notice I am not your average girl

I will play fair, If you do
I'll be true to you, if you are true 
I'm not here to judge what I can't see
However, I will reply and enjoy the imagery

 This Destroyer is not like a lawyer
 However, mess with me or my sis 
 I'll chew you out like the D.E.A.
 I'll mess with your mind 
 A brain storm cleaning you from bottom to top

I am the POET DESTROYER
Admiring those who love the world of wordplay
Today, I will end my WORDS
With the quote I've always wanted to say
   "I am no poet!"

by;pd


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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On Halloween Night

I hear the October winds whispering and I think it knows,
as the witching hour arrives and a harvest moon glows,
only once a year, do we celebrate death on Halloween night,
it is a time for remembrance, and not a time for fright.

As dead leaves come to life, once more, somehow they know,
on the twisted claw-like branches, I see the excitement grow,
black bats take their flight and wise owls call out to you,
it seems strange, but I imagine that they all know, too.

I ask you now, my dearly departed ancestors, to arise,
come and dance with me, there is no need for disguise,
on this one dark, Halloween night, it is the only time,
when we can feel truly alive and so morbidly sublime.

Let me wipe away the ancient moss from your tombstone,
come forth with dust and decay, your shroud and bone,
feel the warm glow from this carved out jack o' lantern,
and watch his lit, grinning soul, may it flicker and burn.

You must still remember the candy corn's sweet flavor,
and those crisp apples, with juicy bite after bite to savor,
it is only on this night when we can taste this rare treat,
and it is only on this Halloween night when we can meet.

Tonight will not be your usual haunting among the graves,
or beneath the dead willow tree, weeping, shackled like slaves,
you are free to wander, to celebrate, and honor our past,
until the morning sun rises, on this Eve that will not last.

So come with me now and our spirits will live once more,
as we roam down our old streets, and visit door to door,
let us go, and lead them all in our mysterious nighttime parade,
where we can finally be ourselves, no need for a masquerade.




Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

You can see him now, dirty as a horse
that slipped in the mud, planting petunias
with that infamous shamrock thumb

(Irish from his Pop      Appendage from his Mum)

stopping every now - and again -
to breathe deep that fragrance
rich with pheromone nostalgia
just like Grammy Georgina used too do

the apple doesn't fall far from the tree

I can still see her now, in her glory days,
with lovely lemon locks soaking up the summer sun,
rooted in that old-fashioned train of mind:
You don't stop your work until it's done!

(but a walking contradiction, just like her grandson,
... rose to her nose like ruby rebellion)

the tree doesn't grow solely from the ground

Water's an important player too,
especially from grandma's showering can

(laughing tears the shade of crystalline blue)

Course you can't forget those lifetime lessons either,
from dear ole Georgie, speaking with a sunny kind of seriousness,
about the importance of patience,
the fruitfulness of labor,
plucking up the surviving winters' courageous cucumbers,
blushing beets

the ground isn't just a place for our feet

Cause with her and I, we incinerate the stereotype:
young blood reflecting on infinity,
old knees dancing like she's got chipper chipmunks
for toes     giggles in the background like a photobomb
to the expected chapel silence

(it's not all peaches and cream though,
sometimes we get violent)

Orange slush, flying miles behind us,
at times getting grazed in the face
by nature's food fight

our feet between the squish squish of the crab apple

We were two peas, if you please, in a curious pod,
like a whimsical joke from a laughing God:
Me, the champion of her scallions,
the guardian of her garden,
leaving all sensibility befuddled
with an, "I beg your pardon?"

I wonder if she knew then the gravity of the situation,
watching mama scream bloody murder,
as I came into this world ...

... was she scratching her head, lips curled, in questioning amazement,
just like Newton must have been, when developing his theory?
What d'you suppose they both were thinking?

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree ...



Written March 27, 2016
For the Cliche Contest Hosted by Silent One


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

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Ninja Girl

   On the Isle of Man lives a Ninja girl
   Daring in her act, makes your toesies curl
   She has a pretty face
   And sips her tea with grace
   Be not taken in – she’s no fragile pearl.


   ----------------------------------------------

   Sent with hugs by Lulu` Pascal


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015

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- Footle for Jan Allison -



  Unfit
  Bullshit

  Make it
  a hit





   
   07.07.2015 A-L Andresen :)
   Copyright © All Rights Reserved


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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My Wish

Hello Ms. Johnson, I’m sure this sounds strange
our mutual friend, said you need a change.
She told me how hard you work every day, 
come home to your children, no time for play.

Your husband left you without any money
and traded family, for tainted honey.
You work as a nurse, working hard for each dime,
yet nothing’s left over at holiday time.

A holiday spent solely enjoying life,
playing with your kids no worry and no strife.
this dream keeps you going, each and every day,
my dear Ms. Johnson I believe I have a way.

I have a house with an awesome ocean view 
for two weeks Ms. Johnson, it belongs to you.
I’m going on a journey and would find it grand
if you could watch my house and enjoy my strand.

If you and your children would like to come here,
believe me Ms. Johnson you’ve nothing to fear.
When you call Janet, she’ll give you my number,
my wish for you is a little less cumber.


Sincerely Brenda Meier-Hans 
12.29.2014
Contest: My Wish For You 


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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Blossoms and Bubbles

     In a magical forest among the purple ice plants
     the queen fairy floats by inside a bubble and chants

     "Come to me all fairy lights and play softly among your flutes"
     hundreds of fairies fly to her in a great multitude they swoop

     Soft music from the fairies make the flowers start to sway 
     bending low and high reaching for the sky they splay

     The flowers bouncing each bubble with a fairy inside 
     giving each a beautiful and peaceful joy ride. 

    T Reams
     


     



Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015

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Treat Yourself

I invite you to go wild
laugh until your sides near burst.
And play like you were a child,
letting raindrops quench your thirst. 

Start a fire with scraps of wood
or sculpt castles made of sand.
And pick berries that taste good
or build forts to scout the land.

Splash in the creek in bare feet
chasing fish that swim away.
And track monsters to defeat
sweating heat of summer’s day.

Giggle at the dog's kisses
or run like you’ll never stop.
And poke a snake that hisses
or climb a tree to the top.

Gaze at clouds billowing by
in the middle of the day.
And treat yourself to peach pie,
like every day's your birthday.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015