Best Harold Poems


Sir Harold, Knight

Sir Harold, Knight, the valiant swain
Did call his Lady Nell.
He held her close and kissed her hand
And bade her sweet farewell.

"Forth from here I needs must go
My swainly Lady Nell.
I shall return, my bonny lass
To hear our wedding bell."

"Ignoble lord, I'll wait for you,"
The lady she did say.
"Don't forget my diamond ring;
The wedding's set for May.

"I'd like three chests of herbs and spice
And a blooded horse to ride.
If these you manage Harold, dear,
I'll be a happy bride."

Sir Harold, Knight, the henpecked swain
Did ride upon the wind
That he might fight and battle see
In armor made of tin.

"For Lady Nell," he cried in war,
"For her the fight be won!"
He smote his foe with courage great;
The battle soon was done.

Sir Harold, Knight, the honored swain
Returnéd home to Nell.
He greeted her and she did say,
"Harry, you were swell!"

But Harold, Knight, was two months late,
And Lady Nell had news:
"I waited long as I could wait;
Just call me Lady Hughes."

Sir Harold, Knight, the spurnéd swain,
Did bludgeon Lady Nell.
"I forgot the damnéd diamond ring,
And since she's dead, it's just as well."
Categories: harold, adventure, fantasy, funny, funny
Form: Burlesque

Memories of Harold Swiss, Rabbi

He gave long sermons 
     and spoke to the
 congregation 
in measured tones
     Gone now these many 
years
   His memory lives on 
        in the heart of the congregation 
Some reviled him 
     but he persisted 
with his writings, with his 
   teachings
A blessing for his memory 
    should be spoken 
         by those who have survived 
Rabbi Harold Swiss
Categories: harold, faith, religion, memory, memory,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member Harold Shipman

A mental void, uncaring stance
Was it greed or was it askance?
Always those that confess
To having the answers,
Yet he fools all of them
The noose his only friend.

 © Harry J Horsman 2022
Categories: harold, abuse, death,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Harold Loved Marigolds

Harold loved marigolds, his favourite flower
One day he ate some and they tasted quite sour
So that was the end
Of his passion, my friends
After that, only roses with carrots and cauliflower


© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories: harold, silly,
Form: Limerick

The End of Harold Holt

The End Of Harold Holt
By Roy Merritt

On December seventeenth, nineteen sixty seven
The Prime Minister of Australia 
Perhaps went off to heaven
He went swimming in the ocean 
Against all good advice
They told him not to do it 
They told him more than twice
But he insisted on doing it 
For it was summer that time of year 
And he was a strong swimmer
A man of little fear
But he never came back that day
They never saw this man again
And many rumors surrounded
This man’s final swim
Some thought he was kidnapped
By the Chinese Reds 
Some thought it was suicide
That the man was just plain dead
Some thought sharks had gotten him
That the man was an obstinate dolt 
But regardless what the truth was
It was the end of Harold Holt
Categories: harold, history, humor, mystery, ocean,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Henpecked Harold Hits Back

Doreen acted like the brain of Britain
Answering questions on the TV quiz show
She would sit and shout out the answers
Her face would have a smug rosy glow

Her poor husband Harold could do nothing right
She would moan at him all night and day
Belittling him with her intelligent quips
‘Yes you’re right dear ‘was all Harold could say

Doreen decided she had such a high IQ
That she should get it tested
So she applied to join Mensa
So her intelligence could be attested

She told all her neighbours of her plans
They secretly stifled their yawn
For Doreen was always quoting new facts
She bored them from dusk until dawn

Harold drove her to where the test was being held
But five minutes later she suddenly appeared
Her face was like thunder, she screamed and she yelled
Had her results been worse than she’d feared

Sadly Doreen had not even got through the door
To her chagrin she’d gone on the wrong day
For someone so intelligent… she now looked a fool
You stupid cow was all that Harold could say.

Harold drove home and quickly packed his bags
He said he was going to stay with his mother
For he knew if he’d stayed in the house that night
His overbearing wife he’d be tempted to smother!



05~27~17
Categories: harold, humorous, husband, irony, relationship,
Form: Rhyme


Old Harold and the Moon's Echo

4am sunday morning they broke into song
unable to contain their smiles
they cast aside the spent wine
and took their ribald song to the streets
with a fanfare of sound and light
like jesters of old
they painted smiles on the frowning old men
and placed rainbows over the bridges between
the carpets of the mighty and the halls of fable

by 5am they had made it all
the way in to the center of town
where a roadblock of uniforms thought to make sense
out of tealeaves and mint cookies
as the jesters just dance around their confusions
between their orders and
what the truth of the heart tells em is the song
and then we see the ugly show a pretty eye to the cause
as it marches in through the double dawn
one dawn for the sun
the other for the hearts of the lonely
and a secret one for me and her
in our lounge chairs by the top of the spike hill
kissing our sweet hearts to eachother

by 10am all but the most die-hard had fallen to dreaming sweetly
neath the juniper trees
while thouse few who clung to awakened hearts
sang softly and sweetly
of summer nights and fresh loves
unearthed from the ashes of the desperate pasts
all things made anew from all the things made old

by sunday evening
we had all danced all the dances
and kissed all the kisses till even the heat of passion couldn't fade
held eachothers hands
and smiled sweetly like memory's saying fare thee well till morrow
i would be crazy if it weren't for your hand in mine
here in the tropical sundown

sunday night so deep
and the only one left dancing is old harold
he's doing the charleston with the moon's echo on the waves of the sea
don't think he's ever been so happy
and as i drift off to sleep
with her in my arms
i know that i don't need to explain to anyone
that we are all jesters looking for a
song to dance to at 4am in the tropics
© Mark Junor  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: harold, beautiful, dance, desire, firework,
Form: Ballad

Harold and Maude

By 
Renee Denise Gross
(Grasshopper*)

#"HAROLD and MAUDE"

Harold, poor Harold, Death Defying, Life Denying...

and then came...

Another day: dullness, bleakness, weakness

Loathing

Hi Mom!

Remember Me? You Swam right passed me, just went right ahead and

bypassed ME...

You surely Soul Scorched Torched me...
I guess it doesn't matter!

Because really, you Never truly CARED to Know ME!

Back to my demise, know I won't compromise, you think it's a disguise....

Mom, 
You're 
Not 
So
WISE!!!!!

Excuse me, who are YOU????

(and then came MAUDE)

Presenting, the Marvelous, Stark Raving,

 Mad~Mad, Indubious,

Life Enthusiast* Glad~Glad

Like No Other..."Discover*(SMILE!)Discover*"

Boy, we sure missed that Broad, MAUDE!!!

Harold met Maude and Ultimately

Death

Dies

Harold and Maude Loved

there Love...

Defies**

Mom, Doc, Priest doesn't get it...

Girls "presented" in didn't get it...

Every Harold and Maude Fan WILL* Get It...

and Let's Cheer the Fact,  that...

Dearest Harold Ultimately...

GOT IT!

Harold and Maude

laying near the tree/s

L*I*V*I*N*G*

First came Despair...

Next came Repair{**}

The Most Heart Tugging Movie

I Swear and Declare!

"Harold, I hope you are Loving"

Until you do meet Maude,  Again...

Love~~~

Life~ People~ *YOURSELF*

More...

More...

More...

and some

MORE!!!!+++++++

 

My Poem Dedication to Harold and Maude Fans, I'm amongst the Biggest!

May Harold and Maude be a Lesson and a Blessing for Us *ALL*

-Renee Denise Gross
a.k.a.
(G r a s s h o p p e r )

6/11/11#
Categories: harold, absence, adventure, age, angst,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Library That Harold Washington Built

we often walked by empty lot's of debris 
the daley's running the show 
as strong mines did grow
a civil rights movement

torn down bricks of knowledge
as we wander by the rail road tracks
broken glass and  unseen filth
covered the under path where pigeons feast

and bats creep out just around six
tires all burning pulluting life
as i read the empty paper bags
and torn clothing logos for in the mist

of the steam from under the city 
no it's not pretty gun shots ring out
the birds fly away as the umpire calls strike
i notice a good year blimp in the glimpse

of my view a voice says your mother is calling you
i close my mind for a second when a pipe burst 
under ground releasing the pressure of hell
the top read caution i walked backwards
pass the church that read mass at 8 and 12 
bible study i loved reading the bible our only book until
 leaving the cardinals a library now look
Categories: harold, dedication,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Hark, Hey Harold, the Calif. Angels Sing!!

Hark, hey Harold,
the Angels sing....
glory to the homerun king...
piece of turf,
with bases wide,
runners steal,
when pitched inside,

Come ye bunters,
drop one down,
see if we can win
the division crown

Piece of bleachers,
crowd gone wild,
all because of
the runner's glide

Hark, ol' Harold,
get some franks,
and give to heaven
your heartfelt thanks!!
© Tom Bell  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: harold, funny, holiday, parody, song-
Form: Burlesque

Premium Member Dr Harold Shipman

The mind is the devil, not the heart,
when in doctor’s garbs, can’t tell apart,
an engaging smile, then the death blow,
some died real quick, some very slow.

the touch was soft, voice saintly gentle,
poured potion with love to dismantle,
they drank never to wake up again,
did they die in peace? was it in pain?

went from home to home to rob the old,
his eyes shone kindness, his heart was cold,
He held their hands to win their deep trust,
offered not cure, but eternal dust!

His heart would have writhed within in strain,
his conscience looked at him with disdain,
yet mind was blinded by pure evil,
curing hands were now tools of devil!

No one immune to Satan’s designs,
between good and cruel no clear lines,
face no longer is index of mind,
learn to peep farther, deeper behind!

3rd Placement
Written 31/08/2022
9 syllables each line, 5 quatrains
Joe Maverick Sponsored
Harold Shipman contest
Categories: harold, death, hate, health, mental
Form: Rhyme

Harold Hart Crane

There is a thombstone in Ohio, with the inscription:
’’Harold Hart Crane:  Lost at sea.“
His words, soaked with tears blossom
Beneath the waves, in lonely, starving hearts
While he sleeps the sleep of the sea
Without his dark passion,
Free at last 
Calm at last
Categories: harold, depression,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Doctor Harold Shipman

With me, during my high-school-days, studied a little boy, 
His father was a doctor. This filled him with immense joy;
At his constant demand, once to his dad's study I went,
Seeing the skeleton, to my feelings, I gave vent; 
Inquired my friend; he said, oh, in syllables innocent,
He is, (the entire city knows), my father's first patient...!

Not less than ten you should kill to become a doctor half -
This we say colloquially; But, what's a doctor-graph?   
How many servile souls should one kill to become full-fledged? 
Shouldn't be their operation-sword and shield double-edged? 
They might cut your internals to pieces; who could ask why?
A good physician, all know, has ethics endlessly high...! 

My cousin is a renowned physician; we loved her much;
Many babies and women, they said, had felt her soft touch; 
I do not know still, why she not treated my sister well,
Her kidneys she did operate; why did things go to hell?
She had no reason for us, when she clipped them together,
One is dead-shrunk now; when will the time come for the other...?

They operate eyes instead-of nose; hand instead-of legs;
Visitor instead-of patient; just anesthetic-pegs; 
What if they dare to leave their operation-knife within?
They have other knives; they'll operate; expose their win;
Human body is not more than matters within a sack,
Cut; stitch; if seen weak, dump like train-coaches gone out of track...!

Doctor Harold Frederick's actions, hence, do not scare me,
Psychopath might be! Lacking perhaps, some essential glee; 
Realization of sins? Feeling of shame? Gloom-future? 
His life seems to me just like his unconnected suture;  
In a world, where killing thousands, many blissfully thrive, 
(I am not justifying his acts) He could not survive...!



30 August 2022
Dr Harold shipman Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
Categories: harold, allegory, allusion, analogy,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Harold Is Sent To Collect Giant Spider

Harold and his cousin belligerent bossy big idea Bob
Formed an insect removal company, Spiders no Prob
They had no issues until a call really late this afternoon.
Harold was walking toward it when something blocked out the moon.

At first he thought it was a statue and was not concerned at all.
But then he saw it open its mouth, and his blood ran into stall.
His breathing was fast and erratic, and he felt a sense of fear.
He had never seen a spider like this creature that was near.

The spider began to chase him and Harold promptly wet his pants.
Go back in there and get him! Bob said. Harold yelled "NO CHANCE!"
Categories: harold, 10th grade, 4th grade,
Form: Rhyme

Dr Harold Shipman

The case report of a serial killer who worked at several hospitals as a respiratory therapist is presented.The suspect was initially labeled a benevolent Angel of Death who ended the suffering of elderly patients through mercy killing. However,his subsequently declared motive for homicide was very different from other similar cases in medical settings. The application of new analysis techniques for the detection of pancuronium bromide injection in a series of aged exhumation tissues gave positive results and led to the resultant conviction of the therapist.
Note.Dr Zafar Supari killer.
Categories: harold, addiction, america, angel, death,
Form: Tazkira
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