Best Funnyautumn Poems
On an cool Autumn night,
Eerie and full of dread.
...not fear...but locks.
Darkness is embraced by light,
Peace stirs in the midnight wind,
...not a calm...but a gesture of his hand.
Simple and sweet...a mystery hides
Behind the pleasant mood.
...not a state of mind...but the smile on his face.
With a skull peering over his shoulder,
Silent growls begin to grrr.
...not growls of a wolf...but his hunger of sweets.
The mood begins to fade,
As a black bird paused in flight,
...not in the air...but on his shirt.
Sets the tone for the night,
As he dresses up for Halloween,
...he’s not Bob Marley...he’s Rasta Ruben.
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For Carols Browns “Funny Spooks” contest
My reference material is in my blog photos...
Of the many things that I like I could go on ad infinitum,
But it would take reams of paper should I list every item!
So I'll confine myself to ten or so things that I like best,
And at some other time I'll bore you with the rest!
I like inscrutable cats and crispy onion rings,
And light classical music featuring melodic strings.
Although some persnickety folks may have their doubts,
Fiddle faddle! I happen to like Brussels sprouts!
I like folks who practice The Golden Rule.
I just happen to like my spouse - she's a real jewel!
I like juicy beefsteak termaters fresh from the vine.
I savor Beringer's White Zinfandel for my taste in wine!
I like concocting poetry though a Shakespeare I'll never be.
I like autumn when crimson and gold cloak every tree!
I could write of pickles and Snickers Bars but I'm limited to ten,
So I must meticulously edit this "masterpiece" and set aside my pen!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 5 in Joe Flach's "Top Ten" Contest - July 2010
Spare dimes and nickels were rather scarce when I was a lad,
But when I received a nickel now and then from my dear old Dad,
I'd hie to the store to buy a box of those ambrosial snacks,
Known to kids in all the land as scrumptious Cracker Jacks!
I can think of no other tasty morsel created for the masses,
Than that toothsome blend of popcorn, peanuts and molasses!
On the box was a picture of Sailor Jack in his sailor suit,
Along with his faithful mutt, Bingo, colorful and so cute!
Ah, but those magic words on the box are what caught my eyes:
"GUESS WHAT'S INSIDE!" - there was always a 'valuable' prize!
With trembling hand I'd reach in the box with great expectation,
And finding some trivial trinket, I'd give a cry of jubilation!
You might find a baseball card, jacks and among other things,
A tiny truck, ship, automobile and even 'diamond' rings!
A toy soldier, whistle, a fire engine, a small animal or plane,
A card with one of Jack's Funny Facts or a miniature train!
"What'd ya git?" kids asked, then swapping would commence.
In our youthful greed, these dealings grew quite intense!
In the autumn of my life, I peer back through the mists of time,
Recalling simple Cracker Jacks and times that were more sublime!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Pastor Allbright
- a man the community knew as
a pious man
diddled his niece
under the Thanksgiving table
testing her leg with his
salad fork
and inching his
bulbous thumb
across her thigh.
Slipped out back
through the screened porch
out of sight of the family
lit a smoke
and stepped into the
starry, autumn night.
A sixty pound ball
of frozen waste
- a blue ball of doom
dislodged from the belly
of a passing airliner
struck the pastor square
in the center of his baldpate
killing him instantly
his cigarette still
burning in his mouth
as he lay across the
kid's red wagon,
not to be found
until everyone
had their pie
and
coffee.
I wuz relaxin' on th' porch t'other day admirin' th' apples on my trees.
Th' branches began to quake, I thought it wuz jes' a passin' breeze.
Alas, 'twuz them pesky squirrels an' birds eatin' their daily brunch,
Gnawin' an' peckin' on my crop, layin' waste to quite a bunch!
I mused, "Now hold on there, them's my apples they is munchin' on;
I'd better git a ladder an' pick 'em before they is all gone!"
Didn't look like that big uv a job, but therein lies th' rub;
I didn't think there wuz enough uv 'em to fill a washin' tub!
One tree each of Jonathon, Red Delicious an' scrumptious Honey Gold,
I planted many years ago when I wuz young an', oh so bold!
Now in th' autumn uv my life as I plucked 'em by th' gross,
I regretted plantin' the consarned things an' grew somewhat morose!
My spouse an' me filled numerous boxes an' many a shoppin' bag,
An' pared an' chopped up bruised ones - it really wuz a drag!
I peddled th' things to neighbors, th' kids an' many a friend,
Even to casual passersby that I thought I might befriend!
We 'preciate th' left-over apples that God's creatures with us shared,
An' we'll enjoy th' sweet applesauce an' pies my dear wife prepared.
But if in ensuin' autumns an abundant crop uv apples appears,
Th' critters kin harvest 'em - I'll jes' watch an' enjoy a couple o' beers!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
The autumn leaves fell from amber skies
And the wind it blew from a mystical place.
But when I spit to the ground; the wind blew it around;
And now it hangs here in my face.
We walked through the garden of roses and daisies;
Reeling in the luster of loves after glow;
When she stooped down to smell; not everything went well;
The daisy smelled like dung but perhaps you know.
In a rainstorm together we walked; singing love songs to each other;
One day I confessed my love; she said I feel the same as you
But a car came along; now my baby’s gone;
And I wound up with the flue
We did everything right; she was my lover with exquisite green eyes;
The way I cared for her made me wonder if I ever knew love before
And now what ever I do; I can’t forget her eyes
And THAT’S poetic justice; and there seems to be nothing more.
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