Best Stu Poems
Man Name Stu
There was a young man who always knew
Didn't like eating his wife's stew
she stopped cooking for him
then she hit his big shin
then she ran away with man name Stu.
Written: Sept. 10, 2015
Theresa
There once was a prolific chef named Stu,
Who whipped up vittles for a Navy crew.
He was aptly named,
And was also famed,
For concocting a most sumptuous stew.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Oh father, my guiding light,
Your presence, now but a memory bright.
In the quiet whispers of the wind,
I hear your voice lingering within.
Your laughter filled the air with joy,
Your wisdom, a beacon to my soul.
But now you have taken your final flight,
Leaving a void that never can be whole.
I remember the touch of your gentle hand,
The way you held me close in a loving embrace.
You were my rock, my anchor in life’s storm,
And now I am adrift in an endless space.
But though you may be gone from sight,
Your spirit lingers on in the starry night.
I feel your presence in the gentle rain,
And in the sunlight that breaks through the pain.
The memories we shared will never fade,
In my heart, your love will forever stay.
For you were more than just a father to me,
You were a beacon of light, eternally.
So I will cherish the moments we had,
And hold onto the lessons you taught.
For though you may have left this earthly plane,
In my heart, your love will never be forgot.
Rest in peace, dear father, my guide,
Your spirit lives on, shining bright inside.
And though I may shed tears of sorrow,
I know you’re with me, today and tomorrow.
In the vast expanse of the universe,
Your light will forever shine, never to disperse.
And in the quiet moments of reflection,
I feel your love, a timeless connection.
Oh father, my guiding light,
In your memory, I find solace in the night.
For though you may have left this earthly shore,
In my heart, your love will endure evermore.
Plunged to terrain plagued, tasty female options
Surge of adrenalin pulses choices unsuitable
Piquant aroma pulls him closer, allure accosting
Sentient favours solacious flower so beautiful
Hurtled descent drops watchful onto hillock haze
Swayed seed laden willow heads have halos
Hedonistic impulse picks silken stems with craze
Seraphim surround a torn aura in dewy daos
Preordained mistake palates spasmed heartbeat
Shrews drawn to Stu allude to transformation
Prurient dripping pores warble wanton indiscreet
Strident serpentines permit desire incubation
Heathen has escape, wrapped parachute harness
Preparing his tortured innards for due launch
Hazards bring unbridled enthusiasm for newness
Pride hides a tarnished ego, attempts reforge
11th February
Whenever waking,
Lady tailor making
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There once was an ostrich named Stu,
Whose face made the emus say "Ew!"
But he'd wink and would coo,
Darling, I choose you~
Till a kick proved he'd misread the queue.
I woke up to his angry heavy footsteps again
my terrified beating heart is thick, not thin
the steps stop, and I am hoping it is my imagination of course.
But I hear him clear his throat, like a deer or a horse
my eyes pop open, I expect to see my shadow man
He can terrify me faster than almost anyone can
He’s my resident ghost, but what does he want?
I feel the bed go down a bit, and I hear a grunt.
Terrified more than ever, I say “How can I help you?”
He whispers one word. I think it is Stu..
Was this your house? I ask, holding my breath.
He materializes for a second, reminds me of my son Seth.
the bed rises, and I know he is going away.
Wait! Tell me how I can help! I manage to say.
My voice is hoarse, I am feeling scared of course.
“murdered,” he says sadly, his voice is hoarse.
I do some research and find a Stuart Blue.
He lived in this house until 1972.
He died at forty-six, they said suicide.
Now I wonder if his wife had something to hide.
I look her up and she welcomes me in.
She looks enough like my mother to be her twin.
She invites me to tea, but I dare not eat there.
After she tells me she has outlived Stu, Stan, Henry and Bear.
I found Stu's French Shriner dress shoes in my attic yesterday.
I told him about his wife, that she did not live far away.
Found out later that she passed away that very night.
Wonder is she saw Stu's ghost and died of fright?