Best Lady Of The House Poems
Silence Felled
Lurking in dark corners
The swamp stirs in the night
As the deceiver rises
Begging to share his illusions might
Only behind the veil
Does he let his murky words sail
Deceiving the lady of the house
While he runs like a little mouse
He drinks a mans ale
Then double crosses once stale
Armies can’t fight the silent one
He hides in the corners of your mind
Draw blood with your pen
Let him flow towards the hither end
The skeleton can’t do much with his quill
Stabbed of his devious will
She's Wet VII Continued
When she gives a cough or a sneeze
Some wee trickles down past her knees
Her knickers are damp
She smells like a tramp
Dashing home so nobody sees
Written by Jan
Inspired by Arthur
Continued by Mystic Rose
She does a little peepee in the bowl
Voiding her bladder is her only goal
Then out comes a fart
Fresh and a la carte
Followed by a turd down the hole!
Continued by Sey
A sigh of relief she wipes her red rear
as the monstrous turd starts to disappear
much to her surprise
it has too much size
and shoots out and hits her left ear
Continued by Steve
Dear lady of the house please don't send me to hell
I know it would get rid of that awful smell
But I have an idea for some fantastic cons
I will be a banker in stocks and bonds
And should I fail and the flush you administer
I will pop out downstream and become a Prime Minister
Continued by Nonsense Alley
Get antibacterial Wet -Ones!
Use plenty for cleaning those soiled buns
Got turd in the ear?
Please! Have little fear.
Buy Wet-Ones for poop- ear ala runs.
Continued by Kimberly
Good gracious this lim'ricks a foul one!
With peepee, a fart and a brown one
Now all has been voided
Smell can't be avoided
So snap on that clothes pin for more fun!
Continued by Eve
Oh! Dear! I guess I am going to have to get some
Depends custom
made,this is just happening too often
and I’m losing too many of my good chosen
underwear in the garbage can at Wal-mart and spending a fortune
In the dark and shaded glen
amid foreboding trees
in the place where a house had been
there never comes a breeze
Amid foreboding trees
blood cries out from the earth
there never comes a breeze
she weeps for all she's worth
Blood cries out from the earth
where she became his wife
she weeps for all she's worth
for there she took his life
Where she became his wife
she suffered but overcame
for there she took his life
but she was not to blame
She suffered but overcame
the lady of the house waits still
but she was not to blame
it was against her will
The lady of the house waits still
haunting hearth amid the rubble
it was against her will
the beginning of her trouble
Haunting hearth amid the rubble
she paces and she broods
the beginning of her trouble
where once her love was wooed
She paces and she broods
in the place where a house had been
where once her love was wooed
in the dark and shaded glen
Tom and Jerry
Little creature would creep,
and make Tom honestly weep,
Bright ideas the cat would design,
With a fail always, gears up to redefine,
We could sit through the whole night,
and giggle over their silly fight,
Trying to catch the clever mouse,
and win confidence of lady of the house,
Tom would plan and lay the trap,
as Jerry brilliantly discovers to unwrap,
She would fall into her own dug ditch,
and witty mouse merrily sings at a pitch,
Year after years, still unable to resist,
these funny comics are on top of my list !
Written June 1st, 2015
For contest "comic book characters" by Shadow Hamilton
Placed 1st
Deliberately inching its way toward break of day,
The morning sun begins to emblazon the barley field.
Relaxing and watching the orb find its way,
The lady of the house waits for night to yield.
Like every morning, she is seated there,
Enjoying the dew scented breeze on her veranda.
Feeling its coolness on her scalp while combing her hair,
And the warmth of the rising sun becoming grander.
Her mind wanders back to the city of her birth,
Just over the rise, beyond the barley field’s treasure,
Lies the city with the most famous name on earth,
Where, in her youth, she was a lady of pleasure.
To Rachab went all of Jericho’s possession,
By decree of God, for which Achan was stoned.
For this soldier could not control his obsession,
Though aware the city’s riches were God’s own.
With God’s grace, Rachab’s wisdom grew,
And she made the city’s outskirts her spread.
Her land into a field of grain did accrue,
A breadbasket from which hordes were fed.
Her hires were the finest laborers in the land
And were busy harvesting barley all spring.
She paid the very best wage to every man,
Cause her crop was the best early rains could bring.
The fields and glades, that gave her pasture form,
Seemed sensuous in every contour and rise.
At daybreak, contrasting tones were the norm,
Painted artfully by the brightening skies.
Mounds appeared convexly round breasts,
Lovingly sculpted over a span of human girth,
Whose beauty was able to put the heart to a test,
As the machinery of memory rotates the earth.
Babbling brooks flowed from shady nooks,
Giving refreshment to denizens of land and sky,
Producing a scene of green worthy of picture books,
That not one skilled artist would dare deny.
Gingerly she rose the doorway torch to quench,
Watching the shrinking darkness become shadows.
Rachab calmly returns to her veranda bench,
To observe butterflies dance above the meadows.
In her dreams, she envisions a more golden age,
When royalty would be attributed to her seed.
A zephyr flows over her mind turning the page,
But she still aspires the prospect of the throne to accede.
What a lovely story to behold just beginning to dawn,
Rising out yonder, just beyond the horizon of time.
How we yearn to see that age return, now long forgone,
So our hearts may once again be joyous and sublime.
When the girl fell from the branches above
She got up brushing the leaves from her hair.
The man said you must be the new lady of the house?
She replied: Yes! I came in on the night train
And I brought the storm with me.
That's quite the power if I do say so myself
And I must say you don't look much like a girl
With those boys' clothes, you have on there.
My mother once told me if I willed it, that the smallest
of creatures could wield great power.
He replied: you best listen to your mother then
Mothers tend to be right on these matters.
My mother is dead, the girl replied; that's why I've
come to live here.
He replied: my mother too, I live here as well.
She eyed him and ask, are you a pirate just in from the sea?
He laughed a hearty laugh. And said no I'm just the maze keeper.
She looked at him funny
He pointed behind her at the twin hedges
You best not go in there without me though.
What's beyond the maze of hedges
She asks in a low voice.
A cottage that looks out over the ocean?
To watch for the smugglers and Tregenna pirates?
Can I go there and see the lookout tower?
He replied: Oh you will never find it
Not without me of course! She smiled.
And knew she had made her first friend
In this new mysterious land, she found
herself in.
written 6/ 6/ 2016 5 pm Monday night
The large room is almost dark now
Moonlight the one light source
I sit here next to the window
Which the wind shakes with force
A light throw tossed across my back
Waiting, waiting until
The lady of the house comes in
Her smile lifts the chill
She walks across the large dark room
Gently touches my arm
Then sits and turns on the small lamp
She snuggles in with charm
Here in my luxurios lap
Picks up her book and reads
The night no longer is cold ~ bare
My queen fills all my needs
Entangled arm and arm together
The warm throw encases
How she enjoys my warm leather
It heightens all her senses
Finis'
Can you now guess what I am?
"The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts."-
Italo Calvino
We moved into an inherited old house with a friendly ghost,
our house is an old Victorian built along the mid coast.
Our ghost is not threatening, scary, or causes any fears,
We believe she is the lady of the house and has been for years.
We first noticed her strong scent of lilacs filling the room,
while outside there were no lilacs or flowers in bloom.
We have awoken to smells of tea and freshly baked apple pie,
and often find her teacup on the counter left clean and dry.
She can be a prankster and will sometimes hide our house keys,
we frantically search and then suddenly find them with ease.
She also moves our clothes, pillows and takes our old shoes,
we are not sure why but think she’s keeping herself amused.
Our young grandson came over one weekend to stay overnight,
and told us he met the sweet lady in his room dressed in white.
That weekend he screamed as he fell over the banister railing,
panicked as we ran down expecting to find him hurt and wailing.
He was smiling as he sat perfectly upright in an empty plant pot,
and said the old lady caught him as he fell and put him in this spot.
We were relieved he was not hurt, did not have a scrape or a scratch,
and thanked our ghost lady of the house for her life saving catch!
2/23/23
Contest: Writing Challenge - G Words- Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
( checked with rhymezone)
* This is a fictional poem but based on an experience I had as a child. We lived in a haunted home. I was four years old and fell over the banister. My parents found me sitting upright in a plant pot, not injured. For years I have wondered if I was helped to safety by a ghost.
It takes two to tango
So here we go
She cooks
I clean
Utensils now have
A never before sheen
Sweeping, mopping
And all such things
Under my control
I put my heart and soul
Into these
After all
Lady of the house
Has to be pleased
The house is always
Spick and span
Initially I was unsure
She encouraged me
Saying, ‘You can’
Our love has since
Grown by leaps and bounds
More so, in lockdown’s
Second round
Physical distancing be damned
We are always cheek by jowl
Love on the prowl
No, no
Our kitchen has little space
That is the case
The 24/7 company
Has made us so tolerant
Of one another
You see
The distribution of
Household work
Has perked
Our relationship no end
Some bickerings do blend
In the chatter
That’s another matter
Finally, an honest confession
No third soul around
It is she and me
And no other sound
Can never take eyes off each other
Yes, you guessed it right.....
Truly, ‘Maid for Each Other’
The wild turkeys disappeared
just before Thanksgiving.
But the flickers are back. I haven’t seen
the phoebe since last summer.
The nesting hawk is gone.
Searching through the cupboard
for a ladle, I find
a rolling pin that wasn’t mine.
I wonder if the former
lady of the house baked pumpkin pie.
She didn’t leave so much
as her reflection
in a mirror, on a window pane.
We live like birds here
in our seasons.
In the historic district of an Old English Settlement, I came to a house with a porch lined with hundreds of ferns covering it. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, I'm a historian and knew immediately what I had stumbled upon. As I walked carefully up the old wooden steps and under the roof hanging above me, I came to the door with a carved stone rosette that encased the 8 ft. double doors before me.
I did not know if I would be able to open it, so I gently tugged on it, it came open and to my surprise was an old grand staircase that a royal English family that must have once lived here. As I stood in the lobby of this grand staircase there was a window over looking a garden filled with rose bushes everywhere, what a sight!
The house must be from the 1400's, this decaying structure still had a lot of life to it, under the dust and dirt, I wonder who must have lived here and so with curiosity I moved up the elegant staircase, and up at the top to my left I noticed a door along the hallway and it was almost as if you could hear the whispers of the past and the life that once had lived there, in their beautiful gowns and men in their suits and top hats, where a once beautiful home was full of life and color.
Behind the door when I opened it there sat a desk with a bunch of old papers and a letter in the drawer. I started to read them and it was the lady of the house with her name on it Lady Stratford.
I brushed off the front of it covered in dust, it there had been the a deed to the house. I cheered at the thought finding it. That meant I could claim it and bring the Old English Home back to its original beauty.
There I sat in the garden after two years of renovations completed, sitting there on the garden bench watching my young daughter and son playing joyfully running around with my husband sitting there by my side, he gently kissed me on the cheek and said great job.
A Family 4
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Within this newly house
On foundations and rafters
Walled and crafted
Bought with aspirations
This family of four
Will see in and out's
A flood of loved one's
Passing by to pat blessings
Upon the shoulders
Of the owners new.
They'll bring a word or two
To encourage with glee
On how to do
For the young family four
Who has a home at last.
The lady of the house
Will raise a brow
After many a bow
And will not rest at all.
She still has fish to fry
But has to listen to
Blah blah all the time.
For within this newly house
This family of four
Will want to build their dreams
Alone and gather
Their own ability
Of what to do.
The flood of loved ones
To give the family four
No chance at all
To bang their own drums
Within this newly house
Will be larger freezer hours
The family four who wants to
Build their dreams alone.
The Lord of his manor
Would like to patter about
And delightly watch his
Kids to grow
And come to know
Each other.
There once were two Sam's
who met by chance cycling a path
where friendships were cast
dwelled by plenty, the old Garden Valley
down in the valley green grass still grows
Sideaway at 69th all the way to 79th
Sam the plumber was a cool man
holstering tools in very strong hands
cycling at night beneath the moon
gleaming like diamonds 100 lights
the scent of money was Sam's delight
the beauty of his cycle memoirs his fame
to tell the truth revealed his name
glowing memories of his cycling days
crossing every state in the USA
a big cigar dangling the side of his face
a kinsman he was on 69th
motorcycle Sam the plumber man.
DJ Sam the music man
loved to cycle all over the place
up hill, down hill, so tranquil a face
cycling the Nam a serviceman
Sam took flight, landing beneath lights
and cycled the land of milk and honey
his state was golden like royalty
just as the gentleman he exposed
cap on his head sometimes in his hand
yes ma’am said Sam to the lady of the house
crossing over 69th old Savmors in sight
a sister got a scare when his cycle took a slide
and the kinsman came to be at his side
but DJ Sam was back riding in no time
a brother, a father, a friend forever
the precious pearl always remembered
a knight with a suit tailored for honor
motorcycle Sam the music man.
with fond memories riding two cycles
through a garden valley on twice a journey
with Sam Sam the motorcycle man.
Have you ever noticed how people smile at newborn babies?
Why? There is a beauty about them which stands up and demands attention.
There also is an extraordinary beauty in you. We spend most of our days mean- mugging
(looking mean), fake smiling and laughing at communication that is really not funny.
What about looking in the mirror and smiling at you every now and then? Those radiating
lips, gorgeous multi- skin colors and unique backgrounds.
The drive you possess which makes you more than one woman.
A Wife, Girlfriend, Mother, Diva and Business Woman.
If the lady of the house is unhappy the whole house is unhappy.
The strength to give birth and mental stability to raise a child in the way he or she should go.
You pray for everybody else but what about praying for you?
You care for everybody else but what about caring for you?
People say you are crazy if you talk to yourself and answer.
Well, I have discovered for myself most of the time I receive the best solutions.
Anything that is destined to better you will be talked about and challenged.
I have also discovered you are worthy to smile with and at yourself.
It was a very long day
And a long way from home
Country back roads
Skies of chrome
Tiredness kicks in
I need to stop
A house up ahead
I'll stop and knock
The door opens
Pleasantries in greet
Invited inside
Tired and dead beat
The lady of the house
Offers a drink
A small wine I say
As she replies with a wink
We sit and talk
About our pasts
Sad stories
And past laughs
The evening draws
As I my head starts spinning
I feel elated
Is the evening beginning
Music is played
As I drink more wine
Energetic in dance
As I feel mighty fine
We end up dancing
Our hands in places
Lips touching
And not just faces
Slowly my clothes
Start to fall to the floor
My hands on flesh
I've never seen before
Her body so shaped
Even through hazy eyes
She takes my hand
To her glittering prize
Her hands mould
Around me so
My head like a carousel
In spinning mode
I seem to know what I am doing
But unable to stop
Like I'm on top of the world
And never to drop
The feeling of joy
Surrounds my brain
Elements of ecstasy
Like sparkling champagne
Naked and set
My body flows
In body arousal
Our nakedness shows
The kissing gets frantic
As we sigh and groan
On the floor we writhed
In sporadic moan
As I lie there
I recall the lights
My head in confusion
Now I'm out like a light
I'm awakened early
By a knock at the door
The lady of the house
In breakfast chore
I sit there eating
As my body aches
Scratches and marks
Was I in partake
I have no recollection
Of the evening that's past
I can recall driving up
And that's the last
I say my goodbye's
As I thank my host
She winks as I leave
Looking as white as a ghost
I get in my car
And I head of home
Stopping for gas
No more wandering roam
I speak to the attendant
About the house where I stayed
A lady so kind
How at home I was made
He turns to me
As if I had taken a turn
There's been no one there for years
His face showing concern
I stand in momentary shock
As he tells me the news
The marks on my body
And the bluest of bruise
All the way home
I try to recollect
About the previous night
My thoughts can't project