Best Mite Poems
The Vicar’s sermon
Frank and forthright
Raised the question
Of the widows mite
Quite unnecessary
In my humble view
Because in our parish
There are only two
And I know for a fact
That they both do
Hi
Dinah-mite!
What a doll you are!
Dressed in your purple outfit
With your long blonde hair, you are pretty!
You play in your beach house, or your ski chalet
You can ride your bike, or drive your car
With many outfits to wear
You are such a doll!
Dinah-mite
Hi!
My
Dinah-mite
Are you out to play?
What are you doing today?
I can pose you any way I want.
You’ve given Barbie a run for her money!
However, I say it’s a pity
That you’re not made anymore
A thing of the past
Dinah-mite
Bye!
You’re no longer here
Since nineteen seventy-five
So long, Dinah-mite!
This is a double-odd rictameter with a senryu trailer.
Weston worked and worried
from sun up till sundown
for the freed-man knew the reason
that Pap had gone to town.
Pap had loved his family
but now that Ma was gone
Pap had said to Weston
"I can't do this alone."
Pap had hitched the wagon
and said "I've got to ride"
" But I'll be back this evening
with Leatha by my side.."
The young uns worried Weston
as they picked and teased all day
No matter how they nagged him
not a word did Weston say..
Pappy loved his Leatha
She worked right by his side
she proved herself a help-mate
not just an Old Man's bride.
Weston held each baby
As if they were his own
and all too soon for Leatha
God called Pappy home
The Young uns said to Leatha
we will give you land
some lumber for a two room shack
a mule and Pappy's Hand.
the Child bride was a widow
she had no will to fight
Weston was a freed-man
who became the widow's mite.
Weston spoke to Leatha
as the sun rose on the day
"Get yo babies Mammy
and lets be on our way"
Side by side they worked the land
a forty acre sprawl
they watched the sons grow in to men
straight and strong and Tall.
They called him Uncle Weston
their Pap had set him free
But he stayed to help their mammy
and hold them on his knee.
Crony; Benson; Dorris
and baby Elloree
all loved their uncle Weston
and now we come to me..
Weston died one Sunday
I now live on the land
where Mammy came with babies
and one old wrinkled hand.
They say Old Weston walks here
Him and his Mule Belle
They plow and plant the acres
and see that we are well..
I never saw a spirit
but sometimes late at night
I here the mules bell jingle
I see a lanterns Light..
Uncle Weston was a freed man
His skin as black as Night
But Mammy was a widow
and he was mammy's Might!
When the rich made gifts to the Temple
two coins from a widow did resemble
all that she had
to keep herself clad,
while the rich gave from wealth that was ample.
Luke 21.1-4
What's a dollar worth?
Well years ago it was worth a dollar.
Now it's worth a lot closer to two cents than a dollar.
The reason....www....can't be put any planner...
More and more people go on line www daily...
The old cheer 2 bits 4 bits 6 bits a $
All for (state your team) stand up and holler...
Well..that's about gone
8 bits=$1
This was years ago...
Now 8 bits = 1 byte...2 widows mites...2pennies...
Here's some binary metrics for you ...the future worth of a dollar (sic) next to computer memory
2^^3[1(2^^10-10))] or 8 bits = 1 byte or 1PENNY
2^^3[1(2^^10-0)] or 8192 Bytes = 1 dollar , 1dollar = 8192 Bytes
2^^3[1(2^^10+10)] or 8388608 bytes = 10 dollars
10 dollars = 8388608 bytes
It's far beyond 2 dollars = a penny , 3 dollars = a penny etc...
My sister in gold coast New south Wales oz, said dear brother
It's only gonna get worse before I re it gets better.
I think this is what she meant
How long is a short time, a hairs breadth above never
Seen within one eye blink, the lash will move forever
Perception throws curveball's, upon prismatic minds
Yet outside double slits, life-forms live completely blind
And voracious appetites, strip eyelashes of girth
Feeding on sebaceous oil, dines parasitic birth
Nibbling away, watching reality slip from sight
Getting up close and personal, with demodex mites
Making much from little, aiming to create new worlds
Eyelashes warp under pressure, turn inward and curl
Scratching the surface, observation now semi-blurred
Eyeballs driving us crazy, itch cannot be demurred
Lice-like creatures, slither up and down paying no tax
Using eyelids as havens, in remorseless attacks
Recombobulating dead skin, not the stuff of dreams
We rip earths orb to shreds daily, in monster machines
By
David Kavanagh
16x13
My love looms still in your room,
a carousel billowing in
boundless bloom,
watch it like the dew distil
before dawn;
in a dream of passion before
roses yawn.
My love commits one common
crime,
it steals through your blind at
bedtime,
with smiles so bright from dusky
skies;
leaving the rainbow glued to
your eyes.
This is more than a dream, feel it,
like the Icycles in Autumn, see it;
crystal clear, written in black and
white,
not to be measured though a
tender mite.
"so ya wants a story from when Captain Mike was young"
"well you'll laugh so hard you might bite ya tonge!"
when I was a young lad trying to make a start
"I got with an Idea!" while composing a fart
I didn't want to work hard to be rich
started washing boats with a little sail's pitch
thought if I opened there'd be a big mob
the turth of it I couldn't even buy a job
would start every morning at 8 o clock
and try to wash a boat down on the dock
the business start was such a pain
boats where being washed by just the rain
after two months, no money to dangle
I started looking for a new angle
I loved the world I'm never mean
I desided to take my business green
then it happend as sudden as a cough
"the whole darn thing just took off!"
with ten employee's and two 2 hire
I finaly got the money I desire
"It was my angle!" it wasn't luck
even had two vans and a truck
then like planned every where I go
into my pockets the money would flow
alot of profit for a dirty deed
"I made it all with a little bird seed!"
by Captain Mike!
white or gray or black
an Acarina poet
cute tiny squeezed hugs
Lady Spider weaving her web again;
Powerful stories surfing on the net.
Hostess - protecting anchors around
Trail Blazer, accosting melodic sound.
Wonder now, what traps she spins.
Boomerang, those frailed legs wantonly pin.
Hideous grips, Neo Geometric moves,
Tempting shots, another day, type cast hooves.
True DNA, we ought to meet,
Face to face on grass luscious green;
Fencing brainstorm, Vedic games:
Who lost and who reigns supreme.
Mark words; the destiny song sings,
Limpid Plangent the oasis rings:
Grasshoppers play their fiddle well.
She spider fries her tale: and it sells.
-I broke horse backbone
You are a cheater bro blah
A mite on the bard
light of Silver mite
Had been seen all the daytime
Under the clear sky
I WANT YOU
You WANT ME
But, you DONT WANT to be TOGETHER
A FORBIDEAN LOVE that could NEVER be shared
(sound nice in a way)
But, I stay AWAKE WOUNDERING, DREAMING, of what could have COME TO BE.
Only if we were ONE.
You said
"ONE LOVE"
But WHO is the "ONE"?
& WHO"S "LOVE"?
YOUR"S or MINE?
BOTH?
It's COMIING CLOSE
Coming close to NOTHING
The clock it TICKING
+Angel4eva+
(( leaves comment IF you like... i'v worked hard on some and i'd LIKE to HEAR what
YOU HAVE TO SAY))
:) thank you
What isn't, was or might be,
the "what if's" haunting me,
there continues taunt,
dancing there flaunt,
squealing with glee,
what isn't, was or might be,
has become my friend you see,
because it couldn't, hasn't, or will never be.
now, take this world
disassemble thoroughly
here come the dust mites