Best Pal Poems
My best buddy, a blessed, blue butterfly
Cute, cool and colorful… kind and creative
She’s got wild words with wings to fly
She’s a darling dame, I’m highly emotive.
She is married to Steve… no trespass
I only cherish her happy heart and arms.
She loves to share and care, her kind compass
I’m cocooned in the crest of her cheers and charms.
Tirzah, a terrific talent … too tough… to tame
She’s a witty and wealthy poet… no shame
She wields wholesome words… her great game
She is flying higher, so funny and fiery… her fame.
Horsemanship, her hobby… her pleasant passion
She’s got a mighty mare, ready for the English riding
Right up in her alley, the mare is earning pride and passion,
She’s great and gorgeous; worthy of western… winning.
She was the best pal we ever had,
Thinking about her still makes me sad,
Quietly wagging her tail for her food,
Silently waiting like a friend so good,
She survived death scare two times that year,
We prayed for her healing, God did hear,
She knew whom to bark at, scared them bad,
She was the best pal we ever had,
Following us all around to be petted,
Love she did not lack, nor once we regretted,
When she fell sick, she had us cuddling her,
Trips to the doctor, we went juggling her,
Ten long years, she stayed with us happy,
Never once did she become snappy,
In times of sorrow, she made us glad,
She was the best pal we ever had.
08/30/18
Walking in the woods on a summers day
I ran across the savvy mushroom king
The old tight-wad geezer wanted to play
I played him checkers and a little chess.
The king was pretty good, I must confess.
Same time next week I asked the little guy?
Leaving, he said. How ‘bout fourth of July?
We made a little date, the mushroom king and I.
I would bring purple sparklers and fire crackers,
He promised lemon meringue faerie homemade pie.
I dreamed of lemon pie for nights and nights on end.
Glad to have a mushroom king for a new best friend.
We met on the fourth, and I gave a disappointed sigh.
I had the fireworks, but guess who forgot to bring the pie?
Rising from the mightiness of my mind's eye,
Diving through the everglade of my endless thoughts,
Dancing to the tunes of my triumph stories,
She came, My love!, to be by my side.
To pull me out of the misery of this chaotic world,
To sing a lullaby amidst the roars of selfish souls,
To liberate me from the loud moans of insensitivity,
She came, My love! , to give me serenity.
She came, My darling! she came into my lonely world
She spoke, my darling! She spoke the words of love.
She hosted my success parties
She eclipsed my debacles
She gulped the rancour of my loneliness
She spread the light of courage in the darkest hour of menace
She came, My darling! She came to wipe my tears
She sang, My darling! She sang the melody of morning dew.
Meet her, My darling! Greet her in this creamy dream
She is my companion in life's amazing stream.
She should have been Hera, goddess queen of heaven, the sister-wife of
Zeus, king of the gods; she would have caught him one Friday night tipping
Out while she sleeps to visit one of his plumy wives and over 100 relations.
She would have said, “Sit down Zeus; let me inform you about the laws of
Property settlement and child support in heaven with a concrete poem.”
She would have straightened up Aphrodite, goddess of love and lust.
Especially when Aphrodite was caught red-handed making love to
Her son, Ares, the God of war, she probably would have said, “Now look
Here woman, quit messing with my son and creating all this rumblings in
Heaven with the gods.” I could see some Lanturne poems floating
She would have acted as the sister of Demeter, goddess of fertility,
Agriculture, and harvest, a sister of Zeus. Because she would have
Blessed women with children who need them, and also farmers
With great harvest and crops to feed their families and sustain the
People across the land, by waving a haiku poem in her healing hands
She would have screamed as the sister of Hermes, the crooked cattle-rustling
God; son of Zeus and Maia, who stole his brother, Apollo’s cows, then
Lied, and swore before Zeus, their father, “That even if I knew who stole
Apollo’s cattle, I would not even accept a reward for finding the thief.”
She would have gave her crooked brother, and son of Zeus, a flying senryu
She would have been with Athena, the virgin goddess of wisdom, reason, and
Heroic endeavors; the daughter of Zeus, and Titan goddess of wise counsel
Métis, especially when Athena appeared onto Swift-footed demigod,
Achilles, and told him, “Sheathe your sword and defeat Agamemnon, the
Greek king with words of wisdom.” I could see some wise epigram poems
She was probably counseled by Apollo, her brother, god of music, healing, and
Poetry; the son of Zeus and the Titan goddess Leto. Because she has cared
For the sick in hospital emergency rooms, and has also stimulated us for years
With her poetic muse. She has counseled many along the way and has calmed
Many storms with loving charm. “Hail my sister in Christ—Karen O’Leary!”
Happy birthday angel and wishing you many more for years to come!
Etching your thoughts with a pen to paper
Telling in detail, page after page, your latest caper
A pal of yours, you may never meet, doing the same
Both know all there is to know from risqué to tame
Each of you eagerly anticipating each day’s mail
To enjoy the stories that happened awaiting the snail
**My wife's hobby
The Principal Was Never My Pal
By Elton Camp
The memory aid that the principal is your pal
Distinguishes from principle to each boy & gal
That was a good enough way spelling to recall
But it didn’t fit my view of the principal at all
To me he was nothing but a frightful fiend
Who, when I misbehaved, would intervene
I even tried to avoid meeting him in the hall
Because I didn’t want any interaction at all
To avoid and fear him there was reason why
He always had a most evil gleam in his eye
It was obvious that he took intense delight
In punishing any kid who didn’t act right
Waiting outside the principal’s office door
Was the thing in school I did most abhor
That fellow was never any type pal to me
But an ogre who would give the 3rd degree
Eh, pal what are your chances of winning?
Ah, you could have banked all this saving
for an early retirement...
to cherish that sentiment!
When you're completely broke, start cringing!
Through grass heft casket white
where green waits to swallow hard
the dreams of lovers and friends.
On a day the wind bullied clouds
skirts waved goodbye over bended knee
of hurt prayer and plea.
I saw the one whom knew
what none above could:
Peace.
My Best Pal
My very best pal is a hairy ole' guy.
His breath is so bad, it bring tears to my eyes.
Mexican music he really adores ;
though he lies, not dances on all of my floors.
He's happy go lucky,
and smiles all the time.
he has no money, not even a dime.
For why would he need it,
when he is the boss.
And I, just his servant,
pleasing him at all cost.
My pal is a stinky ole' Beagle, you see ;
I dearly love him, he tolerates me.
I have a Poetry Soup pal
She is some kinda gal!
Always replying with a hopeful post
This Sweetheart is one I talk to most
She is a mother, a traveler, a tiger and poetess
My friend claims no fame in her finesse
She writes of love, beaches and tropics
Incredible poet under any topic
She sent a personal gift
just for a spiritual lift
Is always the first to greet
A newcomer for us all to meet
She posts many a wise and kind word
An enchanting voice we have all heard
She adores ideas and company of nature
Ask for an aspirin, she will bless with a cure
Yes, this woman in my life is a blessing
Though we have never met, her words caressing
Sweetheart- true to your namesake
Know you have a true friend whenever you awake.
We all know who the Sweetheart is!
14th place in Adeleke Adeite's contest.
A. Green
Written by Gail DeBole
on March 7, 2020
Zeekie and Mildred were buds.
Neither thought the other a dud.
Friendship so true.
They each had a tattoo
As symbols of undying love.
I SUGGEST READING ALOUD TO MAKE SENSE OF THIS MESS
Eyed bean tort sins butt her might
nurse sirree rimes an pomes re site
pry Mary cull hers read an blew
numb hers wan two a tea to
Anne Singh a long width "Whet Whet Whet"
butt knot lettuce off thee alpha bet
off cause, eats plane four hugh two sea
eye no knot my aye, bee, sea
inn stead off righting poet tree
isle writer diction hairy
***********************************
I should right my wrongs here. In this piece there is not one word correctly spelled, yet they're all accepted English words. Spelling errors get right up my gut and in poetry they detract from the flavor.
MY SPELLING IS FINE
I'd been taught since but a mite
nursery rhymes and poems recite
primary colors red and blue
numbers one to eighty-two
and sing along with "Wet Wet Wet"
but not letters of the alphabet
of course it's plain for you to see
I know not my A, B, C
instead of writing poetry
I'll write a dictionary
Debbie, I know you asked for serious, bilingual poetry. I thought I'd throw this in the brew for fun. Loved your example, by the way. :)
When the world disappoints
When your friends let you down
When the package’s too small
When the aches won’t subside
When the suds seem too dull
When your choice show gets axed
There’s always Bud Light
or bourbon on ice
Perhaps a Mai Tai
Maybe some fine wine
Cup of therapy
You’ll have a pal
in a tumbler
That won’t fail you
Won’t disappoint
Your aide will
pick you up
off the floor
Liquid
chum and
patch
***For David's Contest
I once had a friend named Sally
Who loved the Fresno Valley.
Her desire to travel
Soon did unravel
A wee one dubbed Callie O'Malley.