Best Leant Poems
One day I made myself a chair
That could take me anywhere.
I sat on it this morning
and went to yesterday
Time, you see, can be bent,
Off I went,on my chair I leant*
I ended up freezing at my goal,
The chair had taken me to the North Pole.
I stood up and walked around for a bit,
To try to make some sense of it.
A Polar Bear came from it's lair,
Looking for something to eat.
Oh No, I cried and jumped back in my seat.
Then, before I knew where I was,
The chair had took me to the Land of OZ.
The cowardly Lion and Tin Man were there,
Dorothy, Toto and Scarecrow without a care,
A couple of clicks and I was off agen*.
I landed in Kansas and met Aunty Em.
'twas but a dream for Dottie, I know,
The chair decided , it was time to go,
And hustled me off again for another flight,
It was back home, where I did alight.
I opened my eyes,'twas but a dream in the night.
*my new words??
© Dave Timperley 16/09/2018
Categories:
leant, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
RUFUS
Fat boy Rufus takes a rooster to bed
"It's my natural alarm clock" he said
He woke late the next morning
Now Rufus is in mourning
Cos he rolled over and flattened him dead...
ARTHUR AND SUE
Two newlyweds Arthur and Sue
Were doing as young couples do
But then as their bed rocked
They became interlocked
And they stuck together like glue...
FRUITY FREDDIE
Fruity Freddie was in bed with wife Beth
Hanky panky he was hoping to get
He leant down to kiss
But gave it a miss
When he caught a whiff of her morning breath...
SOGGY JIM
Jim's bladder wasn't what it used to be
So before bed didn't drink any tea
He forgot one night
And woke with a fright
When he found himself afloat in his wee...
OLD JOHNNY
Eighty year old Johnny ran out of steam
Now at bedtime in his eyes there's a gleam
The doc gave him pills
That sorted his ills
Now his wedding tackle works like a dream...
Written 3rd January 2021
Categories:
leant, humor,
Form:
Limerick
I was on the road to Vezalay, for Richard and his
quest. All the Christian knights would gather from
countries east and west. The papal hordes would
vindicate, and our swords and banners blessed.
As I walked the woods of Avalon, in peace and
serenity. By a stream in the shade, a vision came
to me. There she stood before me dressed in purist
lace, against the sun her silken form, my eyes
could easily trace. With her eyes she beckoned me
to a place where blossoms lay. From her shoulder
the garment slipped, a moon and star above the
breast stole and transfixed the eye, all was haze
and peace below the bluest sky. Jasmine filled the
air as we lay that summers day, we questioned
nought and let our feelings play. Her fingers of
such tenderness, danced and skipped my
nakedness. Her skin against my chest, I leant and
kissed the moon above her breast. Longing sighs
and the joining created, sensuous tones until our
love was sated. The evening grew cooler, the light
began to fade, our bodies locked in passion, all was
love in shade.
The morning proved a darker place, of my love there
was no trace. No bright star to light my way, no kind
lips for me to play. I searched with a heavy heart but
could not find, the love the heart so kind. I asked
myself with great contempt, surely not, I had not
dreamt. Then I saw in the blossoms there, lay the
flowers from her hair. With a heavy heart and heavy
soul, duty called and gained control.
Categories:
leant, epicheart, longing, peace, star,
Form:
Epic
Vehicles, muscled cars were built, to be fast;
creatures of iron and steel;
the wildest beasts.
In the day of manufactured power, Lynx and Jaguar raced; thunderbirds flew low to ground with wings,
as fast as, a road runner.
The mighty Chevy of “57” dreams;
leant compassions ear to young Edsel,
when he failed his popularity test.
Lightening swift, these darts did fly;
racing down, route “66” back then,
the pride supported its own.
Metal, mega-mammals, like all others;
live and die their last wheeze and cough,
recorded by the crusher.
Those who signed away body parts;
the donors left a re-built legacy.
Beautiful and powerful, as their ancestors;
legacy lives on but, route “66” is a much milder path.
In Heaven’s showroom;
lion and lamb lie, side-by-side;
these are the souls of the metal mammals.
Categories:
leant, appreciation, art, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
My old bones swayed to the old tune
bringing back memories long forgotten.
My spirit rejoiced in exultation
of a ne'er forgotten loving excitation.
For you’re my Dancing Queen.....
There you stood like a wallflower,
indifferent, lukewarm, nonchalant;
seemingly thinking about other things.
You drove me mad, my dancing queen,
you taunted me perilously, wretchedly.
How could I ever bear the teasing looks
you guardedly gave me, my lovely nymph?
I was dancing with some insipid teen,
definitely not having the time of my life;
my loving eyes piercing your sensuous curves
like Eros arrows hitting at random and at will.
Yet you looked on as if I was not there.
The music grew to a raw crescendo....
For you were my dancing queen
and suddenly I was madly in love with you.
I twirled, spun and tripped over you.
The music stopped, dancers gazed at me
with a heartfelt pang as I lay sprawled at your feet.
A racking malaise stabbed my whole being
until I felt your strong hands help me up
steadying me, and leading me to a chair.
And you were only nineteen!!!
The music began again, the old familiar strains
How nimble you could dance,
Oh how I yearn for that sweet moment
For you were my dancing queen......
You danced away while I stayed put
as my foot swelled with excruciating pain.
The euphoric dance came to a halt.
The lights went low.
You helped me to your waiting car.
I leant back, tired and abject
Until I felt your lips on mine;
the heavenly music began again...
yes, yes you’re my dancing queen,
you will always be my dancing queen.
Categories:
leant, dance, love,
Form:
Free verse
The breeze perfectly snaked up the mountain,
Through bushes, over rocks, towards me.
I leant back, pulling my wing up, it bloated in full,
Then hovered above the trees.
I stood there, both hands working the lines,
Looking out across the empty.
And I casually stepped off the cliff, “Was there enough air?” I thought.
Yes, there was plenty.
The thermal soared me straight up, into the vast,
Below me everything became small.
I flew up so high, I was part of the sky,
My life begged this wing not to stall.
Then, all of a sudden, I popped out of the thermal,
My wing crumpled into a small nothing,
I plummeted in that momentary second, it opened again,
This wing was only bluffing.
Of course I was at the mercy of the air,
As it roared like the ocean and waves.
It took me silently over the cemetery of its victims,
An air cemetery full of its graves.
For hours I surfed, predicting the swell,
Riding breaks and soaring off the crest.
And then I cruised back to the Earth, landing on terra firma,
Feeling heaps, and way less stressed.
Paragliding was my life, for a while,
It was my source of unwind, loosen up, and relax.
What things relax you, how do you chill and compose,
Loosening up to the max?
Categories:
leant, happiness, uplifting,
Form:
Quatrain
Aye did not heed the maxim be careful
what you wish for,
cuz now adversity not abate
perhaps helpful for thee reader
if this bard ****
did apprise present woe
by turning time machine backdate
asper how the fickle finger
of thine existence didst create,
a more agonizing situation discerning
scythe leant presaging grim reaper date
now welcomed with
opened arms to extricate
fools paradise by twist,
and shout of cruel fate
e'en locked up in a damp, dank,
and dark dungeon more grate
full, than full blown wraith zing hate
now lemme summarize
woe of this ingrate
where reprieve of death,
would be to good for me to jubilate
perhaps immolation, thence
at the stake burnt offerings
presented to the
"FAKE" trumpeting khanate
hence complete annihilation
the only way to liberate
a guilty conscious weighted down
by Sisyphean sized mill stones
now whit tis time mate
to acknowledge, and try to numerate
whereat one issue found me
reneging and being obdurate
on reimbursing me youngest daughter,
who could not pontificate
why she needed to fork
over monies in relation
to overpayment re
guarding social security,
essentially incumbent on me
on me eek quate
ting to a sizable tidy sum,
finding yours truly i rate
yet refund check she sent
over a year ago, and spate
of anger (born by eldest lass)
unforgivable egregious stonewalling
do to procrastination trait
this papa (rightfully my responsibility)
objects to bearing
brunt of arithmetical error
plus my own meager
very limited fiduciary reserves
induces anxiety to undulate
thus becoming fancy free
and foot loose bachelor
appears as emotionally
cannibalistic (ready
to jump off a bridge)
to shuck off this unbearable weight.
Categories:
leant, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Metrical Tale
T'was a lovely summer evening
To a fancy dress party we are to go
Dressed up in crepe paper
as rainbows i have you know
We cut and sewed and stuck
Ra-raa skirts with bodice tops
Hats akimbo with moon and stars
We thought we looked the tops
Was difficult to sit down
As it crinkled and stuck to skin
So we leant and stood up
Glass in hand much more within.
Then it happened
Someone lit a cigarette in the toilet
Smoke alarms went off with might
Plus the sprinkler system, what a sight
Six very wet and dripping girls
Crepe paper hanging low
Someone grabbed the cloth's off the tables
To hide our modesty but ohh
A lovely view was made by all of us
Hair hanging down make up askew
Not a lot of clothing was worn
Just panties on a few.
If ever you use crepe paper
To make a fancy dress
Make sure you wear adequate clothing
Unless you want to do more than impress
Categories:
leant, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
A world travelling man called Ebenezer
Due to bad allergies was a humongous sneezer,
One day when visiting Italy
Pollen irritated his nose from a tree
And he leant their Tower Of Pisa.
Categories:
leant, funny,
Form:
Limerick
They were on the summit of the hill as if poised in a portrait.
The breeze ruffling the stud's forelock and mane as he arched his head
responding to the reins he moved on as his rider leant forward and
rubbed his poll in affection. Tensed up his withers quivering he sprang into
action careening down the slope pulling up lame. His rider dismounted
and ran his hand down his legs finding some heat in the fetlock. Lifting
his leg he found the cause a stone lodged in his frog, using his hoof
pick he dislodged it thanking his lucky stars that it was not a pulled stifle.
Checking his hind legs for heat in the hocks and gaskin he found all to be well.
He patted his croup in affection and re-examined the front leg still a little heat but his coronet seemed fine. A week's rest should put him right allowing the bruised frog time to heal. It would be tight to keep him fit for their big show in three weeks time but a strained stifle would have put him out of action for at least six weeks. On foot he lead Silver back to the stables and there applied a poultice to his hoof which he would change daily until the frog recovered, leaving Silver munching happily on hay. He walked into the tack room and replaced his tack and stood admiring the rows of rosettes that lined the walls.. The upcoming show would give him the final proof of how superb he was and then people would flock to bring their mares to him and his line would be perpetuated long into the future.
Categories:
leant, horse,
Form:
Narrative
When I was a kid, I know, long ago,
We scrumped apples from neighbours orchards,
Climbed trees, scared bees, skinned our knees,
And once, quite daft, built a raft on the river exe,
Which upended before I knew about vanishing stability,
Or indeed, even my own ability, to do important stuff, like swim,
And my parents felt in charge, unaware of that near insanity,
Life was adventurous, often dangerous, pleasant calamity.
After all, boys will be boys!
Now today, I hear folk rein their children in,
Its considered a sin to even think of doing wrong,
Like pre-pubescent fun fair balloons,
Modern minor loons are floated on virtual strings,
That report everything, each step, each minor misdirect,
Social media monitored, mobile device ahead of vices,
No chances to learn how to exist around even minor risk,
As parenthood clashes charged glasses, after classes,
Why boys cannot be boys.
We learnt to stand firm in a boxing ring, ears ringing,
Whilst on the rugby field we were stamped into shape,
Little gingerbread dough boys, crusted up into teenage loaves,
That may not have been to everyones politically correct taste,
But no matter the blame, we learned to stand, just the same,
And despite accusations today we were neglected,
I grew up in a World where our parents were respected,
For we leant quickly the need to hear them often say,
But officer, boys will be boys.
@Andrew Carnegie, Wiltshire, January 2017.
If you would like to know a bit about me and my poetry please click this link below:
https://youtu.be/Ic_V7aX4xbk
Categories:
leant, character, childhood, family, father
Form:
Free verse
A soldier that served in the last Great War
Is remembered in stone and in wood,
One of thousands who died and had to endure
What no man ever should.
A soldier that answered his nations call
And fought that we might be free,
Signed up in the summer, sailed in the fall,
Leaving home and family.
The parting was painful, the night was clear,
When his regiment boarded ship.
He kissed his wife and held her near
In an unrelenting grip.
Above them shone a brilliant moon,
Like a pearl in the pool of the night.
The soldier whistled a lonesome tune
As his homeland slipped from sight.
No more than an hour of the journey completed,
The engines fell silent below.
In seconds a submarine had meted
A fiery, final blow.
The vessel, now a mangled wreck,
Leant to its starboard side.
Every man on the twisted deck,
Fought to get the lifeboats untied.
Some jumped overboard, as the ship sank fast,
Amidst burning and floating debris.
The whistling soldier breathed his last,
As he slipped “neath the pitiless sea.
A monument stands to honour those
Who perished in their prime
A field of crosses stand in rows
Like sentinels to a shrine.
It stands on a hillside
Overlooked by pine trees
That rustle and whistle
In the warm offshore breeze.
A widow returns to remember the soldier
She lost many years before,
And whispers, as her children hold her,
"Let there be no more war".
Categories:
leant, conflict, courage, death, remembrance
Form:
Rhyme
From a window I stood, arm leant against the pane, fingers hunched and bitter cold,
Toughened glass, tinted, you can see the light, but only through the grain,
The rays kiss the ground, the clouds cushion the sky, the colours are dull,
The open land is vast, with bellowing winds, if you listen carefully you’ll here them cry.
Weakened pavements that lead to nowhere, gutters from where life is drained,
Curbs that stand tall to those that lay, to those that cant stand its to hard to bare
Soil that we seed, water to drown our sorrow, trees that hang lifeless,
They’re lifted with light, but its not because they can see, its shelter we borrow.
Time stands beside me, no emotion on her face, her hands are there but she has no grip,
She gives herself for us to waste, to only wish we could stop her, or change her pace
TBC....
Categories:
leant,
Form:
As I stood at Adam’s burial today,
I was searching for comforting words to say;
I felt his presence and looked to the sky,
And overhead a mighty raven did fly;
And atop his wings I am sure,
The spirit of Adam’s soul did stir;
They leant me the courage to speak and be heard,
To give his family an encouraging word;
And I watched the raven and tried not to cry,
As he took Adam’s soul to God in the Sky.
(In my culture Ravens are the vessel's that take your soul to the next world)
Categories:
leant, animals, death, devotion, friendship,
Form:
Couplet
Truth shall let out
When I gave the world my heart
A lesson leant
Love is nothing but lust,
Tow plus two are ten
Sky is nought but down,
My eyes open to the world
All I said is truth;
Now I have grown old
I see meta you,
But my soul is on errand
To give the world the lie,
He is immortal,
If one raise hand upon him, he's like
Water that is without a scar;
He would give entire lie
Since I need must die,
The truth shall let out,
SOUL, go give the lie,
Flesh is nought but dust;
Adventure in life is market
Tell church of the ONE
That sees all,
Tell mosque they both are one
And remind them of the hell,
The good own the zion
Tell security forces of protection,
They are the people's lung,
Bribery is an abomination;
Corruption lead to degradation
If they reply with lie
Give them the lie
Tell politicians to protect their
Name by finding a way to do with their
Kleptomania fingers,
Their country must rise
If they could reply
You must give the lie
Tell court of injustice, fact
Is their warrant,
They are the people's hut,
They should not let them hurt
Tell the world love exist,
They are neglecting obvious truth
Tell broken heart
To find one else heart
To heal one owns heart
If they reply with lie
You must give entire lie
Tell hatred he's a false,
Once he cannot confront the truth,
To let the world see his ugly face
Oh! A huge pity, in his presence the truth
Shall rise
Tell vultures of their lost,
Their time will soon lost
In elusive word of prospect
Tell writers their pen is but sword,
The magic in their hand,
Helping the world in hand;
A sword without blood
Tell poets they are but mirror
Tell poetry she is but ideal of the mirror,
They both make the world a bright,
They both are great
If they could reply
You must give them the lie
Once you have fulfilled my want,
You can then have a rest,
For the scar you have left
Is interminable in their heart.
Categories:
leant, abuse, adventure, allegory, anxiety,
Form:
Rhyme Royal