Best Jenny Poems
Let me tell you the story of Miss Jenny Prime,
who spent all of her days making everything rhyme.
It was thought she’d outgrow this strange childhood spell,
but her fetish just grew and made her parents’ life hell.
When Miss Prime was a baby, still sporting a bib,
each night she was cuddled, then placed in a crib
by her doting young parents, who thought it quite funny
to give her a pet name, “Sleep tight Hunny Bunny.”
And that was the start of poor Jenny’s plight,
forced to listen to vowel chimes night after night.
Before long she was making up rhymes for herself,
all her un-rhyming toys were just left on the shelf.
Even quenching her thirst could cause quite a stink,
no O.J for Jenny, her drink had to be pink.
They bought her some shoes, red, shiny and new,
“I’ve told you, I’m not wearing a shoe that’s not blue”
She demanded a dog so they went to the pound,
she picked the fattest one there, just to have a round hound.
Her bed had to be red, her jeans had to be green,
and a fish dish for dinner or she’d cause a right scene.
Stamping her feet she cried “I should be Jenna,
and for pocket money, I should be getting a tenner”
Each Friday brought tantrums, as she hardly had any,
reluctantly taking just a penny for Jenny.
Her increase in years simply brought more despair,
she bleached ebony locks for she needed fair hair.
The colours of clothes always caused her to cry,
so to get round the problem she learned to tie-dye.
Now I know it will come as some sort of surprise,
but Jenny had caught a young gentleman’s eyes.
He knew things would be tough, but he’d give it a try
so, with posies of roses, he dared to drop by.
The roses were great and he was kinda cute,
he’d even gone to the trouble of tie-dying his suit.
He was called Jack Kilkenny, his name did not rhyme,
so she told him to leave and stop wasting her time.
But Jack was his nickname, his real name was Lenny.
Alas, this information was not known to Jenny.
He was perfect for her, a match better than any,
for if they’d wed they’d be Lenny and Jenny Kilkenny.
Poem written based on the ABBA Song Thank you for the Music
I got the idea for writing it this way after reading Darren Watson’s Poem ‘And then I Kissed Her’ My poem was written to say a very special thank you for the person who introduced me to Poetry Soup – can’t think of a more appropriate way to say this:-
I’m no one special; I think I’ve said this before
When I post a poem, you wont have read it before
But I’ve discovered a talent, a wonderful thing
My poems are posted, and my praises you sing
I’m so grateful and proud
All I want is to shout it out loud
So I say
Thank you for the comments, my praises you are singing
Thanks for all the joy they are bringing
I can’t live without them, I say in all honestly
What would this site be
Without a comment from you and from me
So I say thank you for the feedback
For giving it to me
Mother says I was so funny before I could talk
She says I could make her laugh before I could walk
February is when my poetry journey did start
I’ve found out my poems can capture a heart
Like a well penned rhyme can
Well, Poetry Soup, I’m a fan
So I say
Thank you for the comments, my praises you are singing
Thanks for all the joy they are bringing
I can’t live without them, I say in all honestly
What would this site be
Without a comment from you and from me
So I say thank you for the comments
For giving them to me
I’ve been so lucky, I am a woman without a care
I want to shout it out to everybody
What a joy, what a life, what a chance
So I say
Thank you for the comments, my praises you are singing
Thanks for all the joy they are bringing
I can’t live without them, I say in all honestly
What would this site be
Without a comment from friends over the sea
Now I need to say thank Jenny Brewer
For introducing me
So I say
Thank you Jenny Brewer for her belief in me
And setting my creativity free
31st March 2014
(Original title is Thank you for Believing in me - I would like to change it back once the contest has been judged)
~submitted to tribute poem contest sponsored by Silent one ~
I’ve been to every corner of this good old U.S.A.
From New York to Miami; from Seattle to L.A.
I’ve visited state parks from the east coast to the west
And many famous cities (San Francisco is the best).
But somehow in my travels, a few states I have missed.
So I have sat down tonight and made myself a list.
Cities I’ve not been to yet with sights I want to see
Lie in Arkansas and in the state of Tennessee.
In Arkansas my sister lives inside her lovely home,
And that state has some parts where I would like to roam.
Some day I must travel there, and see for my first time
Where Jenny lives (I must prepare myself for humid clime).
I’ve never been to Little Rock; I googled it to see
Attractions I could visit like the Clinton Library.
River Market District looks more interesting though.
Also there’s a city zoo, a place I’d like to go.
But Memphis, east of Little Rock, is calling more to me.
With Jenny, I would travel two more hours leisurely.
We’d laugh and talk our whole trip through
Like as kids we always used to do.
What I most look forward to is certain to be grand:
Elvis Presley’s mansion; I’ll be going to Graceland!
Since Presley died, I’ve heard about this landmark for his fans.
I’ve longed to go, but hubbie always had his other plans.
This vacation I must have. I’ve talked to Jenny and
It’s good to know I’d have with me my sister and good friend.
And maybe next we’d head down to the Gulf of Mexico.
That New Orleans is sure a spot I wish that I could go!
written Feb. 17, 2016 for the Take a Vacation contest
Happy birthday to you Jenny
Hope your big day brings you plenty
Keep a bright smile all the way
Your mom sings your praises today
Soon you will be driving to school
Don’t forget to follow the rules
Enjoy your day with a buffet
Your mom sings your praises today
Happy birthday to you Jenny
Don’t forget to save your pennies
Wish on a star on your great day
Your mom sings your praises today
Happy birthday to you Jenny
Your mom sings your praises today
© Joseph, 8/20/2007
© All Rights Reserved
This is for the the daughter of our own poetess, Kathy.
The Kyrielle Sonnet is a French form from the Middle Ages. It has 14 lines (three
rhyming quatrains and a non-rhyming couplet). It has a repeating line or phrase
as a refrain in the last line of each stanza. Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet
has eight syllables. There are times when a French poem links back to the
poem’s beginning; therefore, a common practice is to combine the first line of
the first quatrain and the refrain in each quatrain as the ending couplet for the
poem.
Lenny was 30 and still living with his old cheese, everyone called, Lenny’s mum.
She was always on his Cadbury Snack to go find a trouble and strife for a chum.
“Geez, leave off mum, I’ve been looking down at the Punchbowl rubbity Dub”.
“Well Lenny, go to the grab a granny at the Rissole, Fridý night will ya luv”.
Friday came, Lenny put on his best bag of fruit and fired up his old VS Dunny Door.
With his pay in his sky rocket as he hit the frog and toad with the peddle to the floor.
Mum put some of dad’s old brill cream in his Fred Astaire before he left the house.
“Be good Lenny, me little china plate, if ya need a lift home give me a Wally Grout”.
Jenny was on the rock ‘n’ roll so she saved up her oxford scholars for a big night out.
She wasn’t flash to look at, with her bifocal monkey’s arses but she had a good jam tart.
She walked into the Rissole, tilting her leg as she let rip a decent Royce Hart.
Her dad would’ve said, “A bit more choke and it would’ve made you start”.
Jenny met Lenny at the near ‘n far, knowing he was giving her the old Captain Cook.
Introductions made and Lenny thought she was a bit of alright, as he had a second look.
They hit it off after Jenny’s Third vodka and Lenny’s fifth schooner of pigs ear.
Feasting on bar snacks of party dogs eyes, Jenny dripping the dead horse in Lenny’s beer.
A couple of young blokes walk up to Jenny and tried to give her Reg Grundies a flick.
Jenny started throwing cut lunches, smashing him on the Lionel Rose, then gave him a kick.
Lenny intervened, saying, “We don’t want any froth and bubble.” Before thing got nasty.
He took Jenny outside screaming, “He’s got a face like a half eaten pasty”.
And that’s how Lenny and Jenny met, Lenny’s mum was happy seeing Lenny with stars in his mud pies.
They got cash ‘n carried, had a couple of billy lids, that loved to eat burgers and fries.
It’s not at all romantic, but that’s how most Aussie love stories go.
Lenny and Jenny together forever, They’re mates most of us will know.
Hour upon unending hour, day upon unending day,
quietly, in her prison, our dear Jennie Butler lay.
No curses did she utter, never once did she complain,
though hands and feet were gnarled, swollen, and burning with pain.
Instead, she smiled, told us jokes, those she often would repeat,
and sing to us the old songs, in tones pleasant and sweet.
Down the hall outside her room, other voices mingled there,
mumbling and babbling or calling out in despair.
No one came to visit her, no one that we could recall,
though she waited patiently, no one ever came at all.
Published in Art With Words
Poetry Quarterly, Oct., 2005
Published in MSPS Anthology
Life on the Edge, Dec., 2005
(Aunt Juanita's roommate in the Nursing Home)
I plead guilty
Of saying,
My grandchild is
The most beautiful
The most wonderful
The most intelligent,
It shows, it is so evident,
Absolutely so loving,
Character and nature so giving,
Makes friends instantly
And acts independently,
And so much fun,
Takes my hand
To help build sandcastles
In the sea sand,
Likes to share,
Tells you if she feels you are wrong,
That is not fair,
And how old is this little wonder,
Who is not even afraid
Of an intense storm
With lightning and thunder,
Two years and 8 months,
Who converses so sensibly,
And comprehensibly,
I am not exaggerating,
Such a wise little mind
Who is also so truly kind,
Who tells me I am not pronouncing
“Absolutely,” Correctly
It is ab-so lut-ely yiayia, she says,
And I beam at you with pride
You are so little, yet mature
Everyday we love you more and more,
And one day when our time is up,
I hope no time too soon,
When you look up and
See a full bright moon,
And lots of glittering stars,
It’s Yiayia and pappou ,
Sending you hugs
And love galore.
YIAYIA AND PAPPOU ARE THE GREEK WORDS FOR – GRANNY AND GRANDPA
Flashes of gold flecked with green
Pull me into their deep seas
With a sense of truth unseen
She laughs with her gentle tease
Her entire face seems to glow
With a sense of clean purity
Youthfulness that you will know
As she makes her whimsical plea
Forever abides within her sighs
Coloring her face with innocent grace
Soft silken skin where true joy applies
Naivety that no baseness can erase
She is the child that colors the world
With bright sunshine yellow and gold
That welcomes the morning whirled
With wisdom untainted by life’s mold
©October 3, 2014 by Regina Riddle
You were the first who ever befriended me,
back in elementary of 93'
How I wished we kept in touch longer
But you're just a memory now
No pictures of us at all having fun,
Sharing secrets about our crush
we seemed to like the same guy
but that was never an issue
The last time we spoke
I don't remember what had happened
We haven't spoken to each other since then
How I wished you are still around
How I wished you knew you were like a sister to me
I guess you'll never ever know my feelings
I tried to contact you in any way possible
But I no longer have your number
Not even the yearbook that had your face
It really sucks that your no longer around
I guess this is goodbye my dearest friend
Wish you just knew that I do miss our friendship
I'll still remember you no matter what happens
My sister
Jennifer Ellen -
sweet Jenny Wren,
like a mother hen,
is my comfort.
She was born
two years after me.
Though I’m the eldest -
the teacher -
she is the one
in our family
who nurtures us
when we feel blue.
But also she is
a lioness!
Once she rushed
to defend me from
the cruel remarks
of a stranger -
a heartless man who
attacked the soul of
me -my poetry.
Lovely Jenny;
in a room bursting
with activity,
she’s the one
in the corner
who is holding
the outcast’s hand.
Written Jan. 6, 2016
Private Joshua Bronson wrote this letter by the camp fire where he lay,
Nigh a place called Gettysburg where a great battle loomed next day.
He'd bid farewell to Jenny and his children at their humble cabin door,
Nearly two years ago to join his regiment to do battle in the Civil War.
"My dear Jenny", he wrote, "How I miss you and the children tonight.
My sarjint is a-gittin' us ready to face Johnny Reb fer another fight.
I jes wanted to write a few lines to let you know I love ya'all,
And that I'll be alright and be home to tend the crops this fall."
I'm a-thankin' ye fer the pies and chicken you sent the other day.
That shore beats the hardtack and rancid bacon which is our mainstay.
Jenny, I don't want you and the children a-worrin' about me a-tall.
Jes pray fer me 'cause I'm a-fixin' to be home to tend the crops this fall."
"I jes want you to know I read my Bible, 'specially the Twenty-third Psalm.
It rests my weary soul and when things git rough it gives me calm.
I hope the wheat and corn is gittin' lots of rain and is a-growin' tall.
How I look forward to comin' home to tend the crops this fall."
"I reckon I'll git some rest 'cause I hear rebel cannons a-startin' to roar.
My love to you and the children 'til we next embrace at our cabin door."
Sadly, the Scythe of Death reaped Private Bronson in that awful brawl.
Alas, he won't be coming home to tend the crops this fall.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Now I think I have to concede
My Jenny horse eats too much feed,
Loves her chaff, loves fresh grass,
But through the barn door she can't pass,
Clearly a case of food stampede..
I loved you once, Jenny Teapot,
Until that love turned sour.
You poured the finest Yorkshire Tea,
On the hour, every hour.
But the love we had, went off the boil,
In a most disappointing way.
Betrayed by your affections,
For Darjeeling, Assam and Earl Grey.
Sweetheart
little angel
mind body maturing
happily healthy very wise
Jenny
Thanks Rhoda
for insperation
Hope I did this right lol
the sun plays hide and seek with the clouds
sometimes it shines with full brightness then
like a lightbulb that has expired
loses it's brilliance...
insects,create their own brand of music
click...click...click...
all around is quiteness-
you can even hear your own breathing.
the day is almost over
the sun is getting tired with it's plays,
starting to set...saying goodbye
and suddenly-
your shadow exist behind me
white and black-like a smoke.
it is not easy to get rid of the pains.
inoperable.incurable.
seems destined to stay.
i lost my jenny...
WHY...JENNY?