Best Sideboard Poems


A Ship In a Bottle

A Ship In A Bottle
My great Grand Father sailed to New Zealand on a ship called the Wild Deer in 1872. I have always loved ships in bottles, and one day decided I would drain a pretty bottle of its contents and put the inspiration back inside. It took three months to complete the project.

It sits there on the sideboard
Or on the mantle shelf,
And after such a long time
You don’t notice it yourself.
But should you have a visitor
Or younger child come by
It will spark interest anew
And gasps of “Me oh my!”
						
It’s then the curious wonder
How the ship was put inside,
And where the opening’s concealed
And was it hard to hide?
And if you put it in there
How many times you tried?
And if it went in through the neck
How could it be so wide?

It’s then you tell the story
Of going to the store
To find a bottle of good clear glass
With a shape worth planning for.
Dimple Haig is famous,
Carduh’s pretty fair,
The first one is triangular,
The other one is square.

The bottle must be decanted,
When empty cleaned and dried,
And a careful measure taken
Of the dimensions inside.
It’s then you render drawings
Of the ship you want to make,
And plan out going backwards
Every step you’ll have to take.

First you carve the hull
Of wood with grain that’s fine,
Then step the masts with hinges
So they fold down in a line.
You add the sails and rigging,
Check how they’ll erect
When’s time to pull the halyards
Through the bottle’s neck.

It takes months to finish
Doing a little every night,
I had my children watching
And remarking at the sight.
They saw me put in plasticine
To mold and shape the ocean
And carve wave crests with a spoon
To give the water motion.

When at last the time is right
And everything is ready
You carefully set the ship upon
The sea and hold it steady.
Then pulling on each halyard
The sails are slowly raised
And those who watch the process
Stand enchanted and amazed.
Categories: sideboard, appreciation, art, boat, kids,
Form: Ballade

This Slimming Lark

I am wanting to look good.
It is high time that I should
The mirror in the wardrobe told me so
I am now no longer fit
Just an old decrepit git
Who lost his youthful figure long ago

My hair is going grey
Doesn’t look like it will stay 
My teeth are on the sideboard in a glass
I’ve somehow lost my zip
and put inches on my hip
I spend too much time sitting on my ****

If I’m not consuming grub
I’ll be boozing down the pub
At keeping fit I am an abject failure
And when I’m in the nude
My belly does protrude
So much so that I cant see my genitalia 

I must go on a diet 
I know that I should try it
No more Pork Pies, Sausage Rolls or Steak and Chips
No more will I take on
A sandwich of bacon
For I wish to reclaim those snake like hips

I think I’ll make a pledge 
To eat only fruit and veg
I will cut out beer and wine and stuff like that
If I tell the truth
My cholesterol’s through the roof
Yet I’ve never been unhappy being fat

I was reared on bread and lard 
So I sometimes find it hard
To take on board the things my Doctor said
I tell you I’m not joking
I enjoy food, beer and smoking 
And as for my old Doctor, well he’s dead.

So should I reduce my food?
I’m not really in the mood
As I sit here watching Masters Chefs on telly
And when I’m no longer here
There’s no need to shed a tear
Just be happy that I went with a full belly.

Bugger the diet!!!!!!!
© Roy May  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: sideboard, foodold, lost, lost, old,
Form:

Premium Member The Mahogany Sideboard

Household Auction
Saturday and Sunday
Refreshments 

I must sell some family heirlooms from grandmothers attic,
there are many items, jewelry, glass, lamps, and some furniture;
but the most treasured item is a mahogany sideboard quite exquisite,
beautifully carved, and ornate with dragons and scrolls and gorgeous feet.

I noticed you arrived a half hour early and saw you wandering,
many times you returned to the sideboard and caressed it so gently;
approaching you, I offered you a coffee and we had time to chat a bit,
I told you that the sideboard had sentimental value for me, it was grandma's.

People came and went and many lingered with the lovely sideboard,
you know it is in pristine condition, has never been repaired or refinished;
it is a scarcity, hard to find a vintage piece as profusely carved and deeply loved,
in an antique shop they would mark it up 500%, I am auctioning it at a reduction.

I will not be long-winded, if you are interested, you can trust me,
dishonest, I will not be, this mahogany sideboard is the real thing, no rip-off;
take your time, have another coffee and then we can talk again if you want to,
I am no antique dealer, just a girl with some beautiful things that I need to sell.

In the end,  I could not sell the mahogany sideboard . . .
 

________________________
February 24, 2016

Narrative/The Mahogany Sideboard
Copyright Protected, ID 16- 761-247-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.
Categories: sideboard, old,
Form: Narrative

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Two Greatest Commandments

37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” NIV.

Two Great Commandments

We must praise God with our total being;
With newfound faith in Him are believing;
Yourself forget;
In neighbors let;
Help those in need who will be grieving.

Jim Horn

St. James Episcopal Church
Shallotte, NC

lord 127 End Rhymes
One-syllable rhymes
board
bored
chord
cord
cored
cured
fiord
fjord
floored
ford
gored
gourd
gourde
hoard
hord
horde
lord
moored
oared
pored
poured
roared
scored
shored
snored
soared
stored
sword
toured
ward
warred
whored
 
 
 
Two-syllable rhymes
abhorred
aboard
accord
adored
afford
award
backboard
baseboard
billboard
blackboard
breadboard
broadsword
buckboard
cardboard
chalkboard
chessboard
chipboard
clipboard
concord
contoured
corkboard
dashboard
deplored
discord
duckboard
explored
floorboard
footboard
freeboard
hardboard

headboard
highboard
ignored
implored
inboard
keyboard
landlord
lapboard
moldboard
outboard
outscored
pasteboard
pegboard
prescored
rancored
record
restored
reward
scoreboard
seaboard
shipboard
sideboard
signboard
skateboard
slumlord
soundboard
springboard
surfboard
switchboard
tagboard
toward
uncured
wallboard
warlord
washboard
whipcord
 
 
 
 
Three-syllable rhymes
aboveboard
centerboard
checkerboard
clavichord
coinsured
fiberboard
fingerboard
harpsichord
mortarboard
notochord
overboard
overlord
paperboard
pinafored
plasterboard
pompadoured
prerecord
reassured
shuffleboard
smorgasbord
stevedored
underscored
unexplored
unrestored
untoward
weatherboard
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: sideboard, allegory, analogy, religious,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Musing Over Afternoon Tea

Whatever happened
To afternoon tea
Served around four o-clock
It used to be a daily ceremony

Out came a pretty cloth
From an old sideboard drawer
To put on a small table
Used many times before

On to this table
Doylies and napkins placed
Precisely and carefully
There was no need to race

Then came the china
A person's very best
Teapot and cosy
And an antique spoon rest

Fairy cubes of sugar
Along with bowl and tongs
Wireless playing softly
To the now old-fashioned songs

Now to the best part, the spread
Oh! the spread
Everything home-made
Especially the bread

Assorted sandwiches, sometimes ham
Mostly it was scones with cream and jam
Nothing elaborate just wholesome fare
Loving-kindness sprinkled there

Not a Macdonalds to be seen long ago
And preservatives were not so prevalent
So, most grew their own vegetables
And had gardens with fruit trees

Used old-fashioned methods
To nurture these
They grew organic without realising
Healthy, rewarding and very enterprising
Categories: sideboard, 10th grade,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Miniature Juniper

Although I hardly gave it a thought
I didn't really doubt
our miniature juniper, a bonsai,
would survive our desert vacation.
                                                  It likes the dry
air of our home, needs water
once a week at most and seems
meditative and active, both. While away
I rediscovered my love of agaves -
                                                 sotol and century
plant - met Mortonia and became
reacquainted with squawbush, its citrus
drupe which makes traveling the long horizon
of the desert uplands endurable.
                                                 Live oaks - emory,
wavyleaf - dominant and regally spaced
giving ground to mesquite only on the sere
sand flats. I counted and drew inflorescenses,
spikelets, florets, awns but grasses
                                                 remain a mystery
their microscopic parts. This year
I'll study, give them serious thought before
our Spring starts. The cactus wren was the one
bird I could be certain about. Sunsets
                                                 made me sorry
the desert is not my home. But the ocotilloes
flowered before we left and that made up
for the vicious attack of a hedgehog cactus.
Impressive, ponderosa pine and Arizona cypress
                                                 the canyon canopy
watered with snowmelt and along the high cliffs
limestone formations predating our arrival by
ten million years of weather. Newspapers
kept us aware humanity had not accomplished yet
                                                 the end of history
and that was fair. The planes were full of citizens
who no longer applaud upon landing. Snow flew,
not a pinyon pine or manzanita within two moons
walking. On the dining room sideboard, waiting,
                                                 our miniature juniper.
Categories: sideboard, bird, flower, history, love,
Form: Verse


Sting

A bee sting caused her world to crash. 

It made her leap about in pain into the 

sideboard, tipping hot dogs, mustard, 

ketchup, smearing stains on mom's new 

carpet as dad slipped and fell down, 

suffering damage (to his pride!).



The cook-out turned into a train wreck. 

Words of anger from her brother 

and a spanking from her father bringing 

enforced isolation for at least two days, 

(it's just not fair!)



But when clearer heads prevailed, mom 

dressed the sting with ointment and dad 

produced the ice cream. They gave her back 

her TV privileges (after all she's only six!) 

and kissed her boo boo better!
Categories: sideboard, children,
Form: Verse

Sideboard Sonnet

Oh, faithful four-legg’d friend, mahogany brown,
That stand beside my armchair day and night,
And never let my doilies be cast down,
Supporting my ashtray and reading-light.
Thy beauty this day is not as before,
When once you were presented blemish-free;
Still, with all teacup rings and chips galore,
You are as always truly dear to me.
The sun has left its mark upon your skin,
His warmth from my front window streak’d your back,
But though the aged plywood swells within,
In your veneer I notice not a crack.
	Until you fall apart, I shall have pride
	to keep you here at favourite corner-side.
Categories: sideboard, satireday,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

And Who Will Do the Mopping Up

Vae victis! Her quick eyes spy out the field.
Reconnoitred, the foe's dispositions have been noted, 
quantified, assessed. The forces of order
and tidiness, in neat array, 
perfect their alignment, await onslaught.
The sentinels stand guard:
A pot of jam, a jar of marmalade are emplaced
on the strategic salient of the dining-room table.
In battle-dress, knives, forks and spoons, 
the infantry, have been fully mobilized. Now battle!

The moment's silence is conflict's omen.
Certain of the issue, she advances, 
knowing all order is as brief as day, 
while primal Chaos ruled
when all was void.

She crawls towards an unwary footstool, 
a defenceless lone straggler near the door.
This, with one fell blow knocked out, 
her target would now appear to be the oak sideboard.
With a sideways reel, the feint is over.
Blitzkrieg is launched on the dining-room table, 
the heart of enemy operations. She tugs
the table-cloth; a pepper-bomb descends, 
inducing heavy sneezing fits
(didn't they outlaw biological warfare?)
Thus repulsed, she makes for the paper-stand;
papers, magazines, ordered by number, edition or day, 
take heavy poundings till they lie scattered, 
littered on the floor.

The main assault no longer brooks delay! She tugs again -
the infantry charge down.
They miss the mark but make a hellish din.
With head well positioned for cover, she tugs
a third time, and with a mighty splut
the jam-jars teeter, topple and tumble, 
and tumblers crash down with deafening jars.
With jammy hands, the victress daubs the walls, 
and in triumph commemorates her feat.

By the shindy wakened, Father stalks in, 
his face like that of Jupiter tonans
before the fatal blow.
Her sunny smiles pierce the dismal gloom -
O double conquest! Did Gaul, cowering
to the gore-drenched blade, love Caesar, 
the British tribes, defeated, bless Agricola?
What smiles leave  hard a little tear
makes tender as a lamb, and Dad, 
a willing captive to her wiles, gives in -
surrender unconditional.

And Mum?
She'll do the mopping up, of course!
Categories: sideboard, baby, child, violence,
Form: Blank verse

The Old Lady Down the Street

A curled-up bundle of skin and hair
Adorns the window-seat
The sorry remains of Kitty
The old lady down the street

To those who saw her struggle daily
With her heavy shopping trolley
All of her ignorant neighbours
And her estranged sister Polly

To all of the people
Who used to stand and laugh
Here lies Kitty, loner Kitty
Written on her epitaph

Kitty was a lonely soul
No family or friends had she
Only the teenagers two doors down
Tony, Beth and Marie

They'd pop in on pension day
And ask her for a loan
With no intention of paying her back
Got money for drugs then left her alone

Just the other day
She'd decided to have a look
In the sideboard drawer
For her pension book

The book wasn't where she'd put it
In the right-hand drawer
Maybe she'd done like two weeks ago
Dropped it on the post-office floor

Mrs Kemp had brought it round
Said she'd noticed it after she'd left
She stressed she was lucky that it had been found
Nearly a victim of I.D theft

Her state benefit had been cut
Though not told the reason why
Thinking about rent and energy bills
She'd often sit and cry

Tony, Beth and Marie are banging on the door
What do they want from Kitty?
They've had it all and they want more

Kitty is now at peace
Her maker she has met
She died alone in squalor
Her heart filled with regret

The council fumigated the house
Used disinfectant till it was replete
The only evidence of Kitty
A large stain on the window seat

There are so many like Kitty
But no-one cares ask why
Abandoned by society
And left alone to die

All that remained of Kitty 
Was curled up on the window-seat
The quiet soul with no-one
The old lady down the street
Categories: sideboard, age, family, sad, society,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Lighted House At Night

From across the park I see the house,
Open windows spilling pools of light
Onto the wide wraparound porch.
As I walk nearer, I take a look inside.

On the walls, framed paintings
And a cluster of family photographs,
Over-stuffed furniture, a little worn,
Sleepy dog on a towel on the chair.

Through the side window I see
Shelves crammed with stacks of books,
A daybed, cluttered desk with a computer,
Drawing table, a rack of supplies.

Candles on the dining room table,
Mahogany and glass china closet,
Old fashioned sideboard with
A slightly tarnished silver tea service.

Upstairs, lights glow behind shades,
But in the kitchen a cheery brightness!
Someone moving, talking, carrying a plate
And laughing at some unknown joke!

What sort of people live in this house?
I think I know - comfortable, unpretentious
People, real, who live and love and care.
Heart full, I tread the steps up to my porch!
Categories: sideboard, family, love,
Form: Free verse

The Art Show

The Art Show 

At the art exhibition, it was about metal
craftily shaped to resemble tulips and roses
polished to mirror sharpness, and there were
trees made of barbered wire and a painting
made out of coat hangers, the type the give
at the laundry and filling up your closet.

There were many buyers, what do you do with 
a steel vase with ditto steel roses, not in 
the living room or the dining table, perhaps in
the study on a sideboard and forgotten.
Do metal roses rust, can they be rinsed under
the sink and dry in the sunlight.
It was spring outside a beautiful lawn and many
a variety of flowers and trees but that is not art.
Categories: sideboard, butterfly, career, change, child,
Form: Sonnet

Our Dream

We built ourselves a dream and sent it high into a blue sky,
Watched as the gods crushed it between their thighs-
cried as they threw it back down to earth- tiny pieces like rain,
our dream fell from above like a broken earthenware pot.

Remember how we gathered up the fragments and re-built it?
how then we sat it upon the old sideboard- below the mirror.

Recall how we stood on a high mountain and cried out to the Eagle-
as she soared above us, and the sun sparkled on the sea below us;
how we waited for darkness- a sky full of a thousand stars and an Owl-
from Athena settled on an old tree.

Our dream- renewed and undeterred and whispered silently to the wise one-
and how we watched as she flew with it over the moon.
Categories: sideboard, bird, dream,
Form: Prose Poetry

Sting

A bee sting caused her world to crash. 
It made her leap about in pain into the 
sideboard, tipping hot dogs, mustard, 
ketchup, smearing stains on mom's new 
carpet as dad slipped and fell down, 
suffering damage (to his pride!).

The cook-out turned into a train wreck. 
Words of anger from her brother 
and a spanking from her father bringing 
enforced isolation for at least two days, 
(it's just not fair!)

But when clearer heads prevailed, mom 
dressed the sting with ointment and dad 
produced the ice cream. They gave her back 
her TV privileges (after all she's only six!) 
and kissed her boo boo better!
Categories: sideboard, childhood,
Form: Verse

Poetry Soup

P-   Poetry Soup is like a buffet sideboard
O - Offering tasty treats, nostalgic and informative
E -  Experiencing entrees from around the world while
T -  Tweaking our own creative fare and making
R -  Remarks for the patrons of our choosing
Y -  You can’t beat PS for a challenging cuisine

S -  Spend some time here every day
O -  Opportunities to make friends abound
U -  Underscoring a grand purpose from the start to
P -  Provide an encouraging venue for poets

August 15, 2022

Sponsor	Beata Agustin
Contest Name	POETRY SOUP BEYOND ITS NAME
Categories: sideboard, 11th grade, analogy, poetry,
Form: Name
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