Best Mabel Poems
There is my sweet Aunt Mabel
sitting across the table
ever since her divorce
she eats like a horse
so we put her up in a stable
The crisp cool breeze
helped the sailboat to glide,
like a swan on a lake,
or the glory of a kite.
The shiny exterior
shone pearlescent white,
the gold, christened lettering,
gloriously reflecting the light.
Newly purchased, fridge stocked,
husband proudly at the wheel,
his wife dressed in stripes,
below, fussing about their meals.
This was their retirement,
the life they had planned,
and then without warning,
she felt dizzy; she could not stand.
As she gasped for air
and tried to call out his name,
her husband stood proudly,
planning his wife's life long dream.
As she stumbled and fell,
her head hit the table,
her husband oblivious
he was mapping their course,
deep in thought; for his beautiful wife; Mabel.
Her dream was to voyage
the open blue seas,
like two peas in a pod,
his Mabel, the queen bee.
As she lay motionless,
no sound could be heard,
but the lull of the waves
and sweet song of the birds.
As the husband took a step
down the galley below,
all he saw was his Mabel,
clutching her ring; eyes closed.
He gently and lovingly
picked her up with care,
and he took his wife, Mabel
and collapsed in their chair.
He rocked her and cried
my Mabel, my love,
you are my joy, my life,
as he released her to the sun.
He whispered a note
of her favourite tune,
as he took off his ring
and gently put it with hers.
Mabel, my love,
we will never be apart,
for the vows that we spoke,
are forever in our hearts.
A letter came from Auntie Mabel today--
Saying how she’s tired of working for low pay,
Seems her widowed sister has come to stay,
The kids make too much noise when they play
Keeps telling me she doesn’t have much to say,
Still having trouble with a molar in final decay.
Her nephew on her husband’s side turned gay
And her favorite rooster died right where he lay,
Wanted to know what I think she should weigh
And, lastly, wanted the latest on Aunt Lula Fay,
Frankly, not much in her letter seemed okay.
In a week or so, I will answer her letter--
Telling her she should retire to spare her back
For a home and money, her sister doesn’t lack.
I’ll remind her quarreling about the kids is smack,
There is a fine dentist in her town named Jack
As to her nephew, I said he finally got the knack,
Sorry, but the rooster would’ve made a great snack
As to Aunt Fay, now I know she’s not snorting crack,
And, if she starts to diet, don’t consult a quack.
written October 7, 2021
Mabel Vera Cone
1893-1911
No one knew I existed.
No one knew I died.
No one, not even my family,
Knew I lived in the back,
Out back, way behind the small white house
On shady Canobie Street.
No one cared one iota.
No one wondered where I was
Or where I was going.
If loneliness were a flower,
I would be the faded one,
Growing and struggling reluctantly
Amidst the devouring weeds,
Out back, way beyond and hidden there,
Amidst the consuming burdock
And the golden creeping jenny there.
When I died that day,
The last Saturday in moody June,
I was alone and afraid.
No one knew I existed.
No one, not even my family,
Knew I was dying.
Dying in the darkness,
Dying of inescapable isolation,
The disease of misery and melancholia,
Out back, way beyond and hidden there,
Behind the small white house,
On shady Canobie Street.
Freddie and Mable they were so in love
He took one look at Mabel’s knockers
And billed and cooed like a silly turtle dove
Oh but in size they were real big shockers
When out shopping for panties and suitable bra
Still Freddie did not falter, Mabel fit him to a tee
“Love in bed you are my twinkling super star
But the telly I will admit, I just cannot possibly see
But precious you will always be my love and my mate
And for bloody earplugs they really are quite great!”
There was once a lady called Mable
Whose knickers were up to her navel
Her cupboards were bare
There was no underwear
So she nicked them from where she was able
As dawn cracks the sky
and yellow light leaks through
The neighbourhood oracle begins her day,
sets out her stall on the corner near the station
"The end is coming"
The newspaper boy in his sister's scarf
snatched in haste too early this morning,
just before dawn,
yawning he peddles past the prophetess.
Her long hair writhes,
arms paddle the air
like a swimmer, only grimmer,
then, grinning at the boy on his bike.
"Ha you! Think you can fly!
Come to Jesus"
Over the Eastern roof tops
the dawn light gleaming
Mabel is born again,
beaming her snaggle tooth smile
"Joy today! The kingdom is come!
Repent!"
She has her reasons,
though parts of her story
her pain, her history, are a mystery
In all seasons, all weathers, every morning
while the sun slowly clambers
into the sky,
Mad Mabel, the local oracle
with twenty seven
assorted bags, eleven teeth,
and three bibles
is born again.
And we are all doomed.
*A very loose form of Limerick,
but Mabel deserves lots of syllables.
There once was a waitress with the name of Mabel
Who used her bosom as a restaurant table
Beneath her double chins
Mabel flaunted her twins
The one on the right, Cain and the left one, Abel
The locals knew not to make fun of the lady
Ol' Teddy swaggered in, looking kinda shady
He taunted her with smut
She punched him in the gut
That's the last we all saw of Teddy O'Grady
Mabel looked real nice in her crimson ruffled gown
Two cups of coffee; 'pon her boobs she set 'em down
And when I smiled at her
She said, "Thank you, sir"
I left her a satisfied tip of a half-crown
When eating lunch, Mabel never uses a plate
Don't insult her by declaring she's overweight
Cause she'll call you a lout
Chew you up, spit you out
If you tell her she needs a train to move her freight
Mabel's knockers would put the Grand Tetons to shame
But they're the reason she's in the town's Hall of Fame
She wins beauty contests
With her grandiose breasts
I think 'Melons Mabel' is a comely nickname
Yesterday, I received Auntie Mabel’s end-of-the-year letter
Seems, after another bout with arthritis, she is some better,
She reports that Aunt Lula Fay’s nephew is no longer in fetter
But, unfortunately, he’s only out on bail, she being his “setter.”
Sid, Auntie Mable tells me, will never be much of a go-getter,
Reminds me for Christmas she sent me a warm woolen sweater.
As soon as I receive the sweater, I’ll send a note of gratitude
Failing to mention the gift, Auntie Mabel would cop an attitude,
When one lapses in manners, Mabel doesn’t give much latitude
Considering such a failure both thankless and unseemly crude,
Since she’s a family connection, I’d hate if she became unglued,
I don’t want to get a reputation for being an ungrateful dude!
written December 26, 2021
If you arrive too early
at the public library
and stand on
the steps with Mabel
till the doors open
you will hear Mabel’s
oration for the day.
Mabel is there every day
and her utterances vary.
Today three strangers
hear Mabel tell about
neighborhood teens
who park on her block
and play their car radios
loud into the night
and keep her awake.
She has called the cops
but that hasn't helped.
The next night the cars
are back, windows down,
radios louder than ever.
But Mabel has a solution.
Put those kids in jail
and build a wall
and then deport them.
Don’t come to the library early.
Mabel is there every day.
Donal Mahoney
Millie’s mother Mabel mended macrame
Mainly Marseilles-made macrame,
Maddening moments mending machine macrame
Mostly made-to-order, mostly May macrame.
Making May mostly made-to-order macrame means
Many months modifying Malaysian macrame, mostly!
written February 2, 2022
A letter arrived from Aunt Mabel, always a keeper
She was delighted I bought myself a Bissell sweeper
Said they are best, but I could have gotten it cheaper,
Seems her nephew is in more trouble, getting deeper
I suspect he was caught smoking or selling a reefer,
Auntie says her bloat is causing her to have a fever
She needs a full physical before prices get steeper!
Big news! Auntie said she was dating a Bob Kneiper
At her age, I was shocked, but won’t ask the “bleeper”
He’s older, she said, expecting soon the grim reaper!
I chuckled when she said she had a window peeper
I’ll tell her she needs to report this ornery creeper.
I’ll answer her when I have some news to report
I think I’ll suggest coming over to serve as her escort
Maybe keep an eye out for that Peeping Tom cohort
I do not consider window peeping a spectator sport!
Aunt Mable will probably laugh out loud and snort
I’m sure her nephew will be asking her for support
She’ll remember what I told her last time to retort,
He’s got to stop the doping and with no dopers consort!
Written June 9, 2022
My dearest Mabel
was the human personification
of what her first name stood for:
"Beautiful" and "Lovable"
She was a nurturing mother
grandmother, teacher and woman of God
She was the perfect help mate
for my great grandfather
She was to him
what Eve was to Adam
what Sarah was to Abraham
what Rebekah was to Isaac
and what Ruth was to Boaz
She was the embodiment
of the virtuous women characterized
by King Solomon in Proverbs 31
and the Apostle Paul in Titus 2
Today, we honor you
as Acklins's favorite daughter
and our family's brightest star
Until that Glad Reunion Day
we bid you a sweet and pleasant sleep
Just Tom and Mabel in the village,
No honorific ever known,
Too far down the pecking order for
Such respect to be shown.
Like so many in that village
My Dad and Mam worked on
A still almost feudal system
Wage slavery not yet gone.
Oh, they were respected,
Looked up to in their way
For their ability to work
An honest long hard day,
But, bottom of the pecking order,
Kept firmly in their place
Part of the lower orders
Workers of the Human Race.
Like any good parents did
They made sacrifices for their child
Which I realise now I repaid
By being unruly, rebellious, wild.
Somehow I survived
In spite of my attitude
And I really think i did
Try to show them my gratitude.
Tried to stand tall for my beliefs
Be an honest and reliable man
And, just like my Mam and Dad be
As true and honest as a body can
Still way down the pecking order
In my allocated style and place
I bowed my head to no man,
looked them squarely in the face.
There were times of hardship
Time when it was rough
But like my Mam and Dad I coped,
Survived when the going got tough
It was that example they set me
That helped me to be able,
Still proud many years later to
Be the son of Tom and Mabel.
Your intricacies fearfully and wonderfully wrought so well,
Sweet child, sweet daughter, greatly priced pearl,
You’re a darling, a sweetheart, my dearest ‘Mabel’,
Like your name, prayer born - meaning ‘Beautiful Girl’.
And that endless innocence in your scintillating eyes,
Each time I cup your face in my palm,
Fails not, that ‘in-depth love’ to catch me by surprise,
For your essence and your presence is my life’s balm.
Your life’s my very breath because you are my heart,
Though time beaten, these faculties, limbs, and grey,
Yet that smile rekindles in me like a burning spark,
To stand, to love, and to give to you my everyday.