Best Spouse Poems
“The
children
are always
interrupting.
You never have time
for me,” her husband whined
as he dropped his dirty clothes
right there on the floor by the bed.
Trying not to roll her eyes, she gave
this quick response to her disgruntled spouse:
“The kids, chores and mishaps have me spinning,
and you tell me you feel rejected.
To have a blissful home takes two.
Consideration is key.
I’m also missing you!
To be successful
in our bed, take
time OUT of
it. . . for
ME!”
A Double Etheree written May 27, 2012
for David Williams'
The Three H's Poetry Contest
Man loves friends
Babies have toys as friends
Children have peer groups as friends
Young men like making friends
Friends can become spouses
Entrepreneurs have ambitions and dreams
as friends
Stars are friends of the moon
The splendid glow is the friend of sunset
The shore is the friend of the sea
We are friends of our grandchildren
Pets are man's friends
Only genuineness and sincerity of heart
Showing a true love
Only sincerity and cordiality
Is a sign of friendship
My man was old and battered and was destined for the scrap heap
He’d failed his annual MOT as his many defects ran far too deep
His motor was still running but he had an intermittent fault
He’d nod off when we were making love – (I’d feel a sudden jolt!)
His once full head of blonde gleaming hair
Can be polished, as it now it’s thinning there
With aching joints that my man once trusted
He needed a service as his parts were rusted
So I took him to the used man showroom to see what they could do
They gave him full service to see if his parts they could renew
They said he still had many miles to go and they no longer made this model
But if I had his engine repaired he’d be going at full throttle
The trusty mechanics worked day and night
To ensure that his engine was running just right
They polished his body, now you should see it shine
He’s back to how he was now his motor is just fine!!!
If I’d trawled the showrooms would I want to replace
The one who’d stuck by me and kept a smile on my face
I’ve no wish to trade him in or keep him as a spare
After many years together there’s bound to be wear and tear!
FUN FICTION WRITE FOR THE CONTEST!
IF I SHOPPED FOR MY SPOUSE LIKE I SHOP FOR MY AUTOMOBILE CONTEST
Sponsored by Cindi Rockwell
Through the window I looked one day
At a poor lassie in troubled display
She stood high on a chair
In such a terrified stare
Shouting "Oh! please, please go away"
I needed to view this even more
Running round I looked in the door
So afraid in her house
Of a little door-mouse
Sweat was running from her pores
So being the gentleman that I am
To get this damsel out of this jam
I said "Hey! furry dude
Please don't be so rude
For your scaring this poor little madam"
So I gently picked up the door-mouse
And kindly removed from her house
Her tears turned to joy
Throwing her arms round this boy
Not long after, she became my spouse
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-4.php
When I shop for an automobile,
I don’t worry much about speed.
Good mileage per gallon I want.
A van or a truck I don’t need!
So I guess if shopped for a spouse
the way that I shop for a car,
that means that my man wouldn’t need
much fuel, but he still could go far!
And since I can’t stand vans and trucks
(preferring a car rather small),
my man, by those very same standards,
would not be too hunky at all.
Neither too slow nor too fast, my man
would be like a Mitsubishi
A Spyder Eclipse, rather cute,
and super efficient for me!
When I shop for an automobile,
looks matter! I love a great hue.
And sporty is nice, but oh my,
what guy in the world is light blue?
And finally this is a must -
I want a convertible top!
Does that mean that men with toupees
are spouses for whom I should shop?
The spouse I have now is not small
nor sporty; his color is grey!
He’s bald, so he’s somewhat a rag-top.
I could purchase for him a toupee!
When all my old cars put on miles,
I always considered a trade-in.
But now that I’m old like my spouse,
I don’t think I’ll go through that again!
In my weary old mind,
in a very old house.
What will I see or find?
Running around a mouse,
ghosts of the past and spouse.
Cobwebs blow in the wind.
Love is not a siphon, not the slow hiss
of your breath leaving your body
to fill another’s hollow chest.
It is not the night you stay awake
listening for the sound of breaking—
the cup, the heart, the spirit.
You were born with your own fire,
your own name in the dark.
No vow ever meant surrender of the soul.
When they call their rage a sickness,
you may understand, but you must not drown.
Love does not bruise, or barter, or beg.
It does not take what cannot be given.
Pain is not proof of devotion—
you are not their cure, nor their mirror.
Step back into the light.
Your being whole is not self betrayal.
Spouse Minichu
A husband she searches
all through the land in a faraway valley
and churches
A wife’s match
Want ad~ mustn’t dilly dally
a catch
clocks tick
bio tally
Pick!
A husband she searches
Want ad~ mustn’t dilly dally
Pick!
football
is all
crowd roars
kick soars
a pass
at last
man cave
men crave
cold ones
at once
demand
she panned
but serve
the beer
and chips
for dips
hubby
must pee
walks out
on lout
and shops
till drops
lonely
lady
returns
and learns
the lout
passed out
flat beer
oh dear
the game
now tame
half time
her time
clap hands
to bands
the game
what game!
I'm not myself anymore,
I've become you, that's for sure.
You killed the me that I was before,
Knocking my worth to the floor.
I lost the love I felt inside,
With every word you'd spit a lie.
The smiles you faked,
Have wrinkled your face.
My tears have left you without a trace,
Staining your pillow I once embraced.
All the pain you've put me through,
Has turned my heart so black and blue.
I never wanted to be like you,
But here I go, hating, it's true.
Beating myself up for ever loving you,
Whilst building brick walls made hard thru and thru.
Oppressed is he, a coward in his house,
A cringing serf, to the despotic spouse!
Without a voice unless she's not adverse;
His meagre wealth kept deep inside her purse;
When friends advise she will demand to know;
He fears her tongue more than a Stygian foe!
By misfortune were she to be my wife,
I'd quell her temper, stop her wanton life;
Then tempt her with the buckle on my shoe,
Kiss her soubrettes, then flog the wayward shrew.
The Tyrant Wife. By the poet Robert Burns
Curs'd be the man, the poorest wretch in life,
The crouching vassal to the tyrant wife!
Who has no will but by her high permission;
Who has not sixpence but in her possession;
Who must to her his dear friend's secret tell;
Who dreads a curtain lecture worse than hell!
Were such the wife had fallen to my part,
I'd break her spirit, or i'd break her heart:
I'd charm her with the magic of a switch,
I'd kiss her maids, and kick the perverse *****.
She woke with a gradual start in the muddle of the night,
her large bed seemed so empty that she almost took flight
in search of a new man who might stay right till the end
and not be the type that drove her foggily round the bend…
Yes, she thought of many cliches with her own little twist,
like how frogs turned into perfect men if they were kissed,
but as she was no princess they might not be be a prince,
more likely they would become a toad and thus make her wince…
Life has many twists and churns for a milkmaid she thought.
as she dressed for the party in a C3PO costume she bought
from a passing Millennium Falcon flown by a great hairy ape
though she didn’t know it was Harrison Ford out for a jape…
At the party she tried to mingle with Dracula whose rubber teeth,
got caught in her plastic clad neck which rather damaged belief,
that any other party goer might have had in his being at all real,
as an ageing vampire without bloody fangs has very little appeal…
Later when she walked back home feeling so alone once again,
her shiny costume caught the moonlight & a man yelled out in pain
as his bicycle hit the kerb and he flew through the air into her arms,
so she took him home to unclip her costume and learn of her charms…
The rest of the story is quite beyond any behaviour I've ever known,
yet it is quite true that since that fateful night their bonds have grown,
for he wears handcuffs and leg irons as he carries her breakfast tray.
then after she’s unlocked them, their favourite games they will play…
So bear in mind as you wander through the very many streets of life,
that the map has not yet been printed to show you the way as a wife,
or as a husband if that is the appropriate gender for your good self,
keeping your eyes peeled for a new spouse is so good for your health…
©Rhumour
September 3rd 2015
as the daisy petal drops silver dew
on the green moss carpet down below
little buds budding far and few
drinking and sipping as it grew
tiny mass of mosstly plush
stilled the patter of feet in rush
tiny rodent playful mouse
running home to mousey spouse
feet wet with dampened dew
over tiny landscape flew
loving whiskers touching nose
twitching twitterly happy prose
home and heart safe and sound
under brush within a mound
home is where the hearts do meet
at the end of wet tracks of little feet
Portmanteau:
Moss softly = mosstly
Twitterly = twitter happily
Lively
lovely
comely
gaily
Wise women wield lively, lovely house,
Mild men makes, comely, gaily spouse
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10 November 2018
For the "One Word Wit Style Poetry Contest" sponsored by Maureen McGreavy.
(6th Place)