Best Laddie Poems


Premium Member Limerick: Once a Brave Laddie At Lake Loch Ness

Limerick : Once a brave laddie at Lake Loch Ness

    for one who calls no one "Monster"
             when the truth may not be known:
           Domino X

Once a brave laddie at Lake Loch Ness
Kept vigil to catch Monster on lens
He shut eye just for once
Monster jumped in one bounce
Took pic and signed it: Loch Ness Goddess !

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2013
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Snakes He'd Shoo

Have a Guiness and let’s toast St. Patrick
Whether laddie, lass or old codger geriatric
A bold gent with such clout
All Eire’s snakes he shooed out
Never has there been a saint so theatric! 
Robert
                                 
I am an old codger geriatric  
But I will raise a toast to ST. Patrick  
For shooing those snakes  
Away for our sakes  
He definitely was Saint Fantastic
Beryl

Gone Fishing

Gone Fishing

I know of nothing that can happen badly,
When a man goes fishing with a wee laddie.
The poles they carry along with the bait,
Says, ‘Gone fishing early and staying late.’

When a man goes fishing with a small boy,
The lad is as happy as playing with a new toy.
We would sit on the bank and bait our hooks,
We have forgotten work, and school and books.

As we sat there alone on the bank,
Our minds seem to gradually go blank.
However, the excitement is about to begin,
A nibble and the lad will fight to the end.

At times it seems this fish would win,
The lad fights back and looks at me with a grin.
“Don’t give up the fight,” I shout,
I looked over at the lad and he had caught a huge trout.

The grin has now turned into a large smile,
This smile won’t go away for a long, long while.
“Look!” he said, “At what I did.”
I said “That’s a huge fish you caught today, kid.”

There’s one thing that I’m sure,
The lad out fished me with his lure,
Someone asked him, “Where have you been?”
He answered “I have been fishing, and I want to go again.”



©2010 Lynn B. Glover


Premium Member What Did You Do In the War, Daddy

"What did you do in the big war, Daddy?"

   (Is often asked by a soldier's laddie.)

      "I'm proud you asked me that son;

         I packed a golf bag and gun,

           Since I was the Gen'ral's guard and caddy!"

No Regrets, No Fears,

Johnnie lad ye've been me friend for more than fifty years,
Ye propped me up when I'd have fallen flat upon me face.
Ye never laughed at what I said or at me foolish fears,
And suffered through me tempers with happy smiling grace.

When I were but a laddie, Da taught me how to be a man,
And Mama taught me about Church and that 'tis a sin to lie.
But John ye taught me how to be the best man that I can,
And that theres worse things that a man can do than cry.

But its angel wings i'm hearin' now, a flutterin' up there,
I think I'm heaven bound and pray that I am right.
If I am ye know theres credit due and yours the lions share,
For I'm fair certain that I'll be checkin' out tonight.

So take me hand old comrade, and let me take yours in love,
And let me tell ye that no man has ever had a better friend.
I'll be savin' ye a place right next to me in heaven up above,
Grieve not for me laddie buck, for death is not the end.

Galway Green

There once was a laddie from Galway
Lassies asked if he wore green, he said, “No way,”
I’m not trying to be smart,
It’s tattooed o'er my heart
But feel free to give me a pinch anyway!

3/27/16
For the “It’s All About Wearing the Green—The Limerick” Contest
Sponsor: Skat A


Premium Member The Real Mccoy

There was an American laddie named McCoy,
his inventions the steam locomotives joy,
although the powers to be drank to his health,
made sure he didn’t share in their wealth.
 
  © Harry J Horsman 2012

Hattie

Hattie gladly had a fatty patty.
If a bad fatty patty had Hattie,
That fatty patty would’ve made Hattie batty;
But, Hattie had a rad fatty patty!
The fad-clad Hattie is also a caddy.
“And gladly,” chatted Hattie, “I take after daddy.”
Hattie’s daddy, Mattie, was a caddy as a laddie.
But once Mattie had Hattie, a bad caddy was Mattie, and now the caddy’s Hattie.
But Mattie chatted, gladly, “Me Hattie’s a natty!”
All the laddies were gladly mad for Hattie, and turned caddy.
But Hattie’s chatty daddy chatted, now batty,
“Stray from me Hattie, laddies. Me Hattie is gladly a rad-fatty-patty-eating caddy     
     that took aft’ her daddy!”

Forging Views On the Soup Is a Phony Neat Trick

NO-no! 
Now-now!
Naughty naughty!

we see you
posin' poser 
pretending to pump out popular poems

utilizing 
sneaky glitch tricks
don't act like you don't know... 

there you go 
posting poems
perpetually perturbed
  
agitated arentchya' aintchya'?
impatient 
mad man
feelin' flustered, FRUSTERRR...rated! 
flippin' flabbergasted 
aghast at absence 
of reads
down on 
knocked knees
prayin' please

time to take 
matters into your own hands 
start scammin' some 
on-demand poetry sees 
deal 'dem dirty deeds... damn

SHHHHHH...hush hush...
just as the clock strikes twelve
aww-hell, 

no one's lookin'...
QUICK! 
time to Logout of the Soup 
swoop up your own stuff 
swiftly stoop to
click click-clickin'

Looky Lucky Laddie!
pretty poem's page
is justa'
stick stick-stickin'
and
with a click-click here, and a click-click there, here a click, there a click 
everywhere a click click...

Old McSoup Cheat 
stole three hundred views, 
E-I-E-I-O-

Oh no! (you didn't)

A Laddie Named Paddy

There once was a young Irish Laddie,
His Pappy said lets call him Paddy
since the day he was born,
twas green he has worn
and married a lassie named Maddy

An Acrostic "slap of the Glove".......

Goodness knows the greed involved
Unwilling to admit, unable to proceed
Life on this fragile rock totters
For we have never fouled the nest like this
 
Oceanic trauma, on a voyage, east then north
Ice, blue-clean, beauty, dead before the march of black gold
Listing heavily to one side, we're taking on what used to be only water

Smug arrogance put us here
Plans within plans have failed
Ill-gotten were the riches, ill-tended were the fields
Laddie, grab a pail and bail for all you're WORTH!
Let's just all hope they're not setting the price on that too!!!!
© Jim David  Create an image from this poem.

Hitting Softballs By the Field House

“yeah man, call out
‘aye laddie’ to claim the
ball.” we laughed, and he
hit a grounder, followed by a
pop fly, followed by another
grounder, all thrown back to
the proximity of the pitcher. 
“what’s it gonna be like tomorrow?”
I asked. “In the 70s...I haven't hit
since last spring.” Some clouds
loomed overhead and my hairs stood
on end. He hit a short one and paused,
“What are your dinner plans? I 
got a few pizzas in the freezer.” 
“Wow, that’ll be great weather for the
frisbee tournament then.” The ball
tuckered out of my glove. Dammnit. 
He cranked out another one, and the guy
out left managed to haul it in,
“Aye laddie!” The sun peaked out
a bit, and I saw where the clouds 
would end for a time. “Aye laddie!”
That one, I caught. 
Reds and oranges over the trees, and
none of us believed in sun sets.
© Tom Forke  Create an image from this poem.

In the Life of a Learner

In thee life
You had brought down your enemies,
With the sharp, pointy knife,
That you'd be wonder all the centuries.

In thee life,
You'd be there to learn the way,
Or die trying,
You'll somehow learn a day.

In thee life,
You'll see;
What life has taught you to be, 
A malarkey laddie,
Whose never stop trying.

In thee life,
You're always a learner,
Don't stop and Fyffe,
as it won't help you become a Philosopher.
© Jaz Jason  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Juvenile Footles

Baby Rick Gets Into Honey

Sticky
Ricky

Happy Home Boy

Gladdie
Laddie

Pizza Face

Simply
Pimply

Seasonal Track Star

Winter
Sprinter

What Jiminy Got For Speeding

Cricket
Ticket

April 15, 2022

The Longest Day

THE   LONGEST    DAY

It’s an astronomical fact little-known
That  New Year’s Eve  nineteen ninety one 
Was the longest  the  record will show.
The sun set in the west at Heathrow  
As our plane to Canada  took off, filled with zest. 
The plane’s speed  built up and sun rose again in the west 
And it  hovered  above the horizon – did not deign   
To dip  till Edmonton, when it set again.

Hogmanay Eve  34 hours long: bliss for a Scotsman.
Over Iceland some guy in a kilt began
To stride  the aisles playing a bagpipe  low.
High over Greenland the malt began to flow 
Freely from the baggage racks in the plane:
The racks are high, the Scots are higher again.
Dinner over Baffin Bay is a formality:
A slight slowing in the rate of alcohol hospitality.
The Italians wake up over Ungava  -
It might just as well  be Java  -
And begin munching their salamis rather than 
Have them confiscated  by the customs  man.
Bagpipes seem to gain in volume 
Eight miles up,  over  Uranium  City’s   gloom;
And at last, as the speed drops 
And the sun sinks behind the Rockies’  tops,
The “Highland  Laddie” falls asleep,
And so does his bagpipe.   Not a peep.
Plane is filled with blissful silence
As Canadian Hogmanay makes its entrance.

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