Best Nick Poems
the day I died
was a rainy one
but the sun came out
in the nick of time
I can laugh about it now
but it was a worry
Drop drizzling petals of tears here
For Little Nick, weep the emptiness left behind,
The void in the ocean of love, care
Stumbling through the shadows bereft and blind.
Balm O fragrant wind our despair
Memories that cannot wilt at the altar of pain.
Death is a common tragedy we share
Faith makes it better, touch hope with prayer again.
Little Nick, I did know you, but I know the memory
Familiar as my own son taken away
Before youth was past, or joy wrote a history
Of his dream. So weep I this child today
So weep I, for I am a silent witness to this grief
That sometimes threatens faith and belief.
You know its natural for the old to die
At least we expect it after our boredom
Have discovered life is a waiting game,
But the young wilt as a morning blossom
Too soon for dreams to tell what flame
Was in them, what light to give or to seer
The hills where soldiers fall, or bear there
A flag scrawled on sky a wordless page to stare
Upon. Yet there is more meaning than this
More than missing soldiers and flagged heroes
In the hollow tides of messages, that we miss.
God takes his own from among the young, sows
Them anew among the stars to light us home.
And what is meant for evil is changed to good
In the blinking moment of a tear. I've combed
Scriptures, and philosophies hounding blood
For answers before, and then he took me there
To the parting door, and I seeing though blind
Understood how the cross made heaven bare
And blend human loss to love in heaven's mind.
So through our hot and weary days of the panting sun
Ww will think of you, little Nick, God's work is well done.
I wish I could see you again.
Hear your laugh,
See your smile.
Feel your arms around me,
Look at your face and feel you smiling at me.
See you smile at me,
Only me.
Hold your hand,
Even though I’m too shy.
I’m laughing at myself now,
This wasn’t meant to sound so romantic.
It was meant to be simple,
But I started writing and the pen took over.
I hope telling you these things,
Doesn’t make you want to go away.
I like being around you,
I hope telling you all this doesn’t scare you off.
I wish I could tell you everything,
Let it all go and be myself.
Sometimes I want to,
More than anything.
But I don’t know if I can.
Seventeen years is a long time to hide,
A demon behind the innocent smile of an angel.
To just let go and open up.
Release the side of you,
Buried so deep.
I thought it was impossible,
Until I met you.
You brought out a side of me,
I thought died long ago.
Breathing life into the real me.
This demonic little girl,
Forced to hide behind an innocent smile.
A shadow,
Bent on self-destructing.
But with you,
It’s different.
I don’t know why or how,
But it is.
So I can’t wait to see you again,
To see what you think of me.
To see if you run, to see if you stay
When it’s all said and done.
Happy 42nd Birthday Nick!
My hubby Nick reads every single one of my poems as I post them on Poetry Soup. He is my inspiration and I wanted to dedicate this poem to him. "May your birthday be full of the laughter and joy…(with me…and Ella…and Brady…etc)"
"no one will ever love you more than me,
for we are bound with love ‘til eternity-
when we touch, my wounds you mend,
scattered chills down my spine you send
for you are my muse, my inspiration,
the reason for my God-given creation
many years have passed, no flaws you see-
for it’s only the beauty you love inside me
I know you know how many poems I have written to you- since 1996. This is your 2019 (42nd) birthday poem.
Love you baby,
Laura"
There is a small sliver of a piece missing; it is here somewhere
Waiting to be discovered, to be accepted. I search with my angel,
Determined to see what she has in mind for me, my heart leaps.
Effervescent crystal ball seems more mine now, more personal.
A tiny piece of refracted crystal now found, speaks to my heart.
Telling me things I did not know I knew, but I am convinced of accuracy.
Slivering off was a God-thing, this crystal ball needed to be nicked.
I readily forgive the instigator, for he was an accidental soul helper today.
He was unknowingly part of the master plan to enlighten me further.
I put my tiny nicked piece down onto ball's black velvet tablecloth.
She winks at me and blinks twice. Verification to my soul she is alive.
I am confident that now I will have all my questions answered.
How is heaven, Mother? The crystal's aura glows in rainbow colors.
Do you get to see father, Mom? She shuts down hard, turning dull.
Just like my mother used to shut down fast in front of our father.
I am amazed and delighted; the master plan is working well.
Get the 'Nick' of Prime.. Transforming TV time.'
With questions well 'couched' what's the take' all about?
Negating generic preconception
Being His signature intention
Shaking the Quo is His 'art' status shows..'
unmasking 4 the nation those veiled sinuation
With His inimitable way; and ingenuity say
Honest enacted neither trite, nor retracting..
Not a ham per se that's my view by the way.'
Creation-sensation? (its your choice)
Now..' get us to the revelations..!
© Joe Maverick 6-3-2015
There was young man called Nick
Who wanted to take the girls on a pick-nic
He took a bottle of wine
He had a really good time
But we wondered which girl would pick Nick
© ~GG~ 30/12/2012
st. nick salutes
a new generation....
lonely Christmas day
In the nick of time,
I closed my eyes and when i opened,
You were already mine,
I wonder why i took time to realise,
That i would have fallen into your arms,
Even before i thought of singing you a love song,
Because when my mouth said 'No'
My heart screamt 'Yes'
I have fallen head over heels for you,
As you showed me which hands to shake,
And which one to hold,
Which love glitters bt isn't gold,
Which mistakes to correct and faults to ignore,
You are a modest gentleman,
My sunshine in this lifetime
Deb dieted to a size four
She walked and her bones scratched the floor
Her knee caps were locking
But no men came knocking
It’s Christmas, can’t take anymore!
So now Deb sits waiting for Nick
It's cold, he best get here real quick
Ole Nick has eight pets
As good as it gets
It’s rumored they fly (what a trick!)
Nick warned her he carries such pudge
That Deb fears his sleigh will not budge
But he vowed they’d ride
With Rudolph as guide
O’er rooftops through snow, rain and sludge
*November 28, 2018
For Sara’s “Park Bench at Christmas” Contest
Image Number Six
An explorer called Nicholas Bean
Used a jungle path for a latrine
He started to pee
Got stung by a bee
His poor wotsit swelled up with gangrene.
The natives said you need a vaccine
Their witch doctor arrived on the scene
With some healing plants
Said “drop down your pants”
Too late it had already turned green.
Both limericks 9/9/5/5/9.
Written 15th March 2019
For green humour contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire.
There was an elf whose name was Nick
He had a nack it was a trick
He steal his way into your heart
Then leave at night when it got dark
He did this once unto a lass
Who put a spell on Nicks low class
Now when he tried this trick again
He turned to stone though not a gem
She set him up upon a self
With other things that have no wealth
Now all who wish to find this man
Know now just where the elf does stand
It was late Christmas Eve
When awakened by a noise
I was hoping it was Santa
With a hefty bag of toys
Peeking from my bedroom
Caught a vision really wild
Santa covered all in tinsel
And giggling like a child
He spun around the floor
As if nothing else to lose
Stripped down to his boxers
Wearing ballerina shoes
Still whirling like a dervish
I guess he couldn't see
After tripping on the sofa
He crashed into our tree
But still he kept on laughing
As though a great big joke
He then lit up his pipe
And blew out a cloud of smoke
There was such a pungent odor
I could tell it wasn't holly
It smelled like Maui Wowie
No wonder he's so jolly
What was missing in my life?
You!
I lived many years without you,
not knowing what I was missing.
One day a surprise came to us
at an unexpected late- in- life date,
it was a baby boy.
He smiled at us with blue eyes
and bald little head,
and we were complete.
I treasured the cuddly feel of you,
fitting into my arms so well,
your weight seemed just right,
to pack you around every day,
even as you grew and grew.
You added an element to my life
that had been missing.
I now learned to slow down,
stop at playgrounds, push your swing
and sit in the one next to yours,
leaning back, looking up into
the crowns of swaying trees.
Taking walks, delighting in gathering fallen
red maple leaves, watching bugs
and birds.
Frogs and crawdads appeared in our bathtub,
I emptied your pockets while doing the wash
of rocks, seashells, dried katidid shells,
sticks and marbles.
I learned that stepping on jacks
at night while going to the bathroom hurts.
On your first fishing trip you accidently hooked a duck
and cried because you thought you hurt it.
I already knew of your compassionate heart.
You and I laughed and cried watching " Free Willy,"
"The fox and the hound" and "Alladin."
You brought joy to my life.
I learned that it is exciting to watch you play soccer,
I cheered and hooted and watched from the bleechers,
while you ran your little heart out,
I watched for signs of your asthma acting up,
but luckily you seem to outrun it.
On the first Halloween you were a little
smiling pumpkin that I pushed in the stroller,
but soon you were running with your buddies,
dragging a pillow case filled with candy,
and I had to scurry to keep up with you.
On your first day of school I was nervous,
I had to leave you with strangers.
Several of us Moms were hanging around the hallway
peeping into the door's little window,
until they made us leave.
Then came field trips, help with homework,
I was "room mother" to be near you and help,
and visited you in the cafeteria at lunchtime
on "Parent's day."
Suddenly, you are taller that me!
The braces came off, and you have a summer job,
and you are very good with it, I am proud of you.
You now have a Highschool Diploma and
are getting your driver's licence,
but you will always be my little boy,
and I will love you forever.
Love, Mom
(An Addingham poem)
The venerable mist
hangs buoyant; taut,
a stubble veil upon
its face, when currents
of blooming heather lay
along its ancient purple race.
Beneath I stand in retrospect
motionless as time begins to blend,
here where one should feel privileged
to negotiate the freezing wind,
this place surely in need of a friend
where tussock stand rigid still!
My footprint etched upon its soul
before each blade of grass
appears to acknowledge,
this confined partisan role.
© Harry J Horsman 1997