Best Lawn Poems
The thick numerous shoots of grass have come out,
no more snow shovels til late autumn comes about.
I hear the robins chirp as they tend their nests,
wait....the sound of a cranky lawn mower chugging
to life from its winter's rest!
Quickly, dear, go out and mow before everyone else
does!
our yard needs to look perfect, 'cuz-
the neighborhood spring lawn mowing wars have
just begun,
it's quite serious, not so much fun.
Yard envy is so common in our subdivision,
The HOA "Yard Of The Month" prize brings derision.
If the young couple who just moved in across the
street think their landscaping is the best,
my roses and begonias will put them to the test.
Hubby can't start the riding mower,
he's cursing its parentage midst dandelions
and clover.
The other men in the cul-de-sac are already
halfway done,
as their wives bring out iced tea for them
under the strong sun.
Well, well, tomorrow is the neighborhood
block party,
I've already made an array of warm weather
dishes so hearty,
My potato salad and baked beans will surely
be the envy of the other cooks,
it is in the good 'ol American spirit-
to compete and be a smug schnook! ~
Poor old Mr. Perry,
Became a lowly pawn;
His ugly neighbor's dog,
Kept poopin' on his lawn
Big ol' piles of logs,
Standing inches high;
An odor so vile and funky,
You'd swear you're gonna die!
Retrieving the morning paper,
Would make him gag and yield;
Dodging mounds of doo,
Was like a wicked mine field!
"Keep your dog off my lawn"
The old man kindly begged;
The dog walked up and growled,
Then peed down Perry's leg!
That was the final straw!
It was time to sink the axe;
Perry hatched a wicked plot,
A box of chocolate Ex-Lax!!
Early one Friday morning,
Just at the break of dawn;
There appeared that ugly dog,
Ready to poop on his lawn
A big ol' bowl of grub,
Enough to swell a horse;
Perry smiled as he woofed it down,
Nature would take its course!
The mutt took his daily poop,
Went back from where he came;
The sands of time were calling,
His neighbor would go insane!
An hour or so had passed,
No one made a sound;
All of a sudden, there's cussing,
"Get out, you mangy hound!!"
The scheme worked as planned,
Crap sprayed the floors and walls;
His neighbor's house was a rotten mess,
Funk had decked the halls!
Old Perry was the victor,
At last, he found his peace;
That rotten dog kept off his lawn,
The poopin' finally ceased!
Wild grasses of my springtime heart unmown,
unruly, unrestrained, in silence grew.
Youth’s fierce infatuation madly blew
its untamed gales where tall, green blades had grown.
Fair birds of transient love have long since flown –
that tale’s dark thread unraveled. Segue to
the stunning, breathless moment I met you
and found the ageless love I’d never known.
As autumn yields to winter, hair recedes
brown-gray, and once-hard muscles dormant lie;
our fathomless love-light remains undimmed.
Spring’s passions redirected, naught impedes
love’s resolute commitment. You and I
adore our beautiful lawn, neatly trimmed.
The voluntary gardeners
Placed signs along the fence
Announcing that they’d given up,
Despite their best intents.
“We can’t maintain this lawn because,
Though signage says No Pets,
The owners let their dogs run wild,
Displaying no regrets.”
Perhaps these words have hit the mark
As those in charge have dealt
A reprimand that’s harsh enough
For guilt to have been felt.
For lately, there have not been any
Pets upon that lawn,
Though it may be too late for any
Grass to grow upon.
I'm floating right below the water
And you are trimming my feet and my head
So it'd be easier for me to collapse
Like you'd mow the lawn every week
I was 5 and in your bed and mostly scared
They'd been trimming my arms and my voice
As I was floating underneath the water
They want me to take brutalized limbs then march
But I'm floating right below the water, most of the time
A flamingo on the lawn? Oh, yes!
With its s-shaped head so pretty.
Make fun if you think you must.
Fill yourself with giggles
At your house, not mine.
Flamingoes have
Feelings too
Pinkish
Ones
I’m mowing the lawn free and clear
Don’t have no pants on
Because it’s hot out here.
Neighbors always said I was insane
Always called me out of my name
“Well to hell with them!” is what I say.
I’m mowing the lawn free and clear today.
People always lookin’ down on me.
Well what I think of them…
Now they see…
My moon
And my sun
Watch me as I mow my lawn.
Always check for glass
Before walking through the grass
For feet should be bare
Border
guard hoops
and hedgehog balls;
striking flamingos; painted-rose
walls
I live next door to angels
One day they fluttered in
But not just any angels
These ones play and drink and sin
Not sure they know they're angels
Since one day it came to pass
I heard some cursing angels
Whilst they tried to mow their grass
Quite impressive when in action
Think they thought that they were smart
Built a Lawn-mowing contraption
Without instructions, part-by-part
Carefully attached the fixtures
Every bolt and nut and screw
When it didn't quite match the picture
They didn't know what they should do!
Today I woke to fumbling
And noise as I arose
I could hear two lesbians mumbling
While playing with a hose
Sorry my dear roses
I do not mean to scold
But lesbians don't do hoses
Or know how lawn mowers unfold
So please do heed this ditty
I'm not trying to be a jerk
It's just that you're too pretty
For all that kind of work
So take it easy, find a seat
And I think that you'll agree
It's time to rest your painted feet
With a lovely cup of tea :-)
Shoes on the lawn
every single one
a reminder
of someone
no longer there
cause no one would dare
speak out or decry
yet tears haven't run dry
so there they are
a colorful panorama
it's not frivolous drama
this is real
Feel...
Each pair's a silent scream
of a parent's shattered dream
empty places
grief stricken faces
empty seats
No after school treats
empty beds
because of the empty heads
of politicians who are fed
blood stained money instead
shoes on the lawn
night goes down to dawn
a mother cries
another student dies
shooters shoot
emotionally unstable
undetected, they are able
mentally deranged
from society estranged
they roam in the land of the free
more guns is NOT the key
what about the stats
all those bloodied facts
other countries? not the same!
Here mass shooting's a game
BS is the name
to give to the excuses! What a shame!
A shame!
Look....See
Shoes on the lawn
Don't just stand there and yawn
put aside your pride
Think of all who have died
Look...see
The next pair of shoes
could belong to me
or to you
there's so much you can do
you know it is true
You can help stop the madness
and help heal the sadness
Oh...how my heart aches to see...
those shoes...
those multicolored empty shoes
scattered on the lawn...
Eileen Manassian
Modern landscaping amuses me no end
in mansions and cottages round the bend.
To folks who seem aesthetically cultured,
a well-mown lawn is still ill-manicured,
unless there are potteries strewn around,
cracked, skewed, partly sunken in the ground.
But pots breed bad skitters that fill your artery
with dengue through this silly pseudo-artistry.
So, next time you stare at your yard be wary:
Mosquitoes sting anyone dabbling in pottery.
Fairies dance with great romance
and display upon the lawn.
As they prance, don't give a glance
at what they may spawn.
As they play and swirl and sway,
they create a magic spell.
It's their way to make us gay;
they do it so well.
Come in sight at darkest night,
while reveling in their fun.
In moonlight, they glow so bright,
almost like the sun.
In delight, 'neath bright moonlight,
with their frolic they persist.
It seems trite, a fairy sprite,
but they do exist.
One morning I was admiring our yard’s splendid beauty.
My kind spouse did the majority of the weeding duty.
The immaculate flower beds were bursting with color.
The dahlias, geraniums, and peonies welcomed the summer.
I decided to do some weeding before the heat came around,
And I was on my hands and knees really going to town.
I was singing my favorite song, and pulling those weeds,
Working up a good sweat with my botanical deeds.
All of a sudden a few feet away,
I saw something moving, coming my way.
"What's that in the lawn," I said in dismay!
It was a big snake slithering in display!
I screamed and tried to get up and run,
But I fell right on my behind before I had begun.
The poor snake took off in another direction.
My screams to wake the dead had gotten his attention.
After the unwelcome intruder had gone,
I made my husband check that area of the lawn.
Satisfied there were no more creatures that afternoon,
I continued weeding, singing my roses a sweet tune.
** The Pupu and I Go Walking **
Under a slice of melon-orange moon,
We’re off to walk (the pups and I)…
Far along for long,
‘Til our energy has gone..
We totter over to the nearest lawn
And lie down there to sleep.
The grass is so cold, so wet with dew
We’ve gone off only for a walk, but died, too.
But, wait! Push away the urge to weep!
‘Tis not the intended ending that it seems…
St. Peter denied us entry, declaring.
“Your time is yet Long to come. So, Leave!
Resume your walking far and long…Back to dream
On a lawn — too cold, too wet, Earth-green.”
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(c)sally young eslinger 6/23/2023
Thanks be to God