Best On Work And Workingwork Poems


Premium Member Fingerprint Failure

Applying for teacher certification
I caused one technician much consternation

My fingerprints had simply not registered
Again and again the test he administered

“Guess you could have had a career in crime,”
He retorted reapplying ink grime

He said this had never happened before
But the results he surely couldn’t ignore

He sent me to an experienced tester
Who made many cracks, joked like a jester

He claimed my blank prints were quite unique
Turned over my hands just to take a peek

The delicate lines could scarcely be seen
And the fingers themselves were awfully lean

“What work do you do?” he asked with a scowl
As he removed the ink with a towel

“I now type 82 words per minute,
Most of my life I’ve been immersed in it"

My helpless fingers were worn to the bone
And my tester let out a mournful groan

Apparently pounding on my keyboard
Had produced an undesired reward

Faint thumbprints revealed no criminal record
And I won an overachiever award

Typing is essential to the work I do
Next time they need prints, I’ll remove my shoes


** True story for the Finger Frenzy contest
Form: Couplet

Is a Million Dollars Enough To Retire On

Is a Million Dollars Enough to Retire on?

By Elton Camp

We once thought that one who is a millionaire
Is a person who will never have financial care
But let’s say that you are getting ready to retire
Will this be enough to live on until you expire?

Assume that you draw out four percent per year
That’s a responsible figure is what we now hear
That would provide $40,000 to meet your need
A reasonable sum if house is free and no greed

No need to worry about retirement any more?
Doesn’t sound as bad as what I’ve heard before
But one really major problem does still remain
Just exactly how will that million you obtain?

Suppose that you work from twenty to sixty-five
To gain $22,000 average a year you must strive
Not all of this would you be compelled to save
You can include what return on investment gave

I have to wonder just where safe investment went
Certificates of deposit now pay about half a percent
On more risky type investments do you dare depend?
Loss of your funds will bring retirement to an end

Compare what your saving and investments are now
Is that likely to come to greatly increase somehow?
Could you right now save $22,000 by a year’s end
Even if, on doing so, your very life did depend?

So whether a million saved is enough, you see
Actually has very little relevance to most like me
So without a pension, can you now see just why
Some say they must continue to work till they die?
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Bad News

Got bad news today, now I've got the blues
Not a good day, reduction in pay, layoffs too
Now hubby'll have to work harder, so hard
He works now, and will be covering night shift
That Larry didn't lose job, I thank Him for his gift
His boss is retiring at the end of the year, bad news
Too for they are friends and he does exellent work
Hate to put it this way, but employer's really a jerk
He makes money hand over fist and doesn't care
In his bountiful earnings, he seems unwilling to share
But at the end of the days, all will be set right I'm sure
Hopefully those layed off will find jobs, and will endure
We will just have to cut back, not so much Bingo too
Car be paid off soon, with His help we'll come through
Allright and the future will still look bright, His might
Will keep me strong, especially in darkness of night
When won't be here, I'm so used to going to sleep
With my love beside me, and listening to his snoring
Early evenings we spend together, now will be boring
But it's only for two weeks and then we go on vacation
I wish I could go back to work now and have a vocation
I worked hard at many a job for many, many years
Now I have to be content for now to stay home, no tears
Of joy today, maybe tonight God will hear my prayer
I'm playing once more again and will pray/wish if I dare
And leave my fate in His hands, for my woe He does care
Thank all who read this, I just had feelings I had to share
Form: Rhyme


The Power of Work

Work like a slave
to eat like a chief.
As work was blessed,
It's important to work hard
because we were born to work.
Lucky are those
who knows how to work,
and cursed are those
who do not like to work.
Work as a gift,
it's everyone's joy
who need to live in peace
as he said so that work 
is the best priority of man.
Form: ABC

The Watcher's

Watchers was the name of a family.
They lived in the alps in Switzerland.
Mr. Watcher couldn’t figure out what he wanted to be,
but he knew he wanted to work with his hands.

He tried fixing cars for a living.
This just wasn’t what he wanted to do.
Then he made turkeys for thanksgiving,
out of paper, Popsicle sticks and glue.

This left him feeling disgusted..
His potential, he just wasn’t living up to.
He knew his life had to be adjusted,
but how to do it, he hadn’t a clue.

Then one day his watch broke.
He said to his wife, “what shall we do?”
She answered him as if it were a joke,
“Why don’t you get out some glue?”

Instead he went and got his tool bag.
Knowledge on this subject, he had none.
But he was going to show that old hag
that this household he still did run.

So he tinkered and tweaked away on the clock
until the wee hours of the morn.
She sat there watching him like a hawk.
His work she so wanted to scorn.

Then, voila‘, the watch started ticking away.
She stared at him in shock.
She really didn’t know what to say.
He’d fixed that little clock.

After that day he knew what he wanted to be.
His self esteem gained a few notches.
A sign maker, the next day, he went to see.
Had a sign made that said, “Watcher’s Watches”
Form:

"seasons of Work"

I work all day in the heat and the sun...
Some days are rough but most are fun...
The seasons change as our work does too...
From blowing leaves in the fall, to plowing
snow till two...
Planting flowers in the spring, to building
a ball field with care...
A crew of five with all a different idea to share...
I love the outdoors for it feeds my senses and soul...
This way when I come home I can write a poem or two
to share and be told...
Riding on a tractor for a day is my favorite way to pass
the work day...
My Beatle tunes on my i pod keep me sunny and happy and
never grey...
Form: Rhyme


Wake Up Call

Wake Up Call

You wake up in the morning and you rise up in your bed.
The bell on your alarm clock is still ringing in your head.
Another day confronts you as you stand up to get dressed.
What a way to start the day, already you’re depressed.

You run out of your house and then you jump into your car.
You’re fifteen minutes late and your boss wonders where you are.
You run into the office and you sit down in your chair.
You log on to the system and you let it know you’re there.

The boss is never happy and he lets you know each day.
You’re part of one big team, but no one helps along the way.
You work yourself into the ground to try and make the grade.
Sixty hours a week and you’re just barely getting paid.

By the time you make it home at night, you’re weary to the bone.
You wish you had somebody, but you have to sleep alone.
There’s just no time to have a life, no time to just have fun.
Morning, noon, and night, your job just keeps you on the run.

No one pats you on the back, and no one says, “Good job.”
And the people that you work with act just like an angry mob.
Everyone’s disgruntled with the office politics.
You keep it to yourself each day, but still, you take your licks.

One day when you’re sixty–seven, and finally retired,
Form: Rhyme

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