Elsie Poems - Poems about Elsie

Elsie Marley was a playful, middle child, with five sparkling siblings, Living on emerald, Willow Brook Farm, underneath skies very citron. Everyone in the family lent a hand, at skillfully managing their farm. At twelve years old, Elsie joined in, like golden bees, flower charmed. Every fleeting day was the same as the last, yet magically different; Like when a...

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(Charles Philip Arthur George - b. 14 November 1948) I had a cousin called Charles, said Aunty Olive. Nice young man. That's him on our TV. That's not cousin: it's King, said Aunty Lucy. It's King Charles. Now watch it all on this TV. It's a TV, Olive, a TV. It's nineteen fifty-three, isn't it? asked Aunty Olive. I remember Victoria....

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Borden’s milk had a gorgeous sidekick cartoon cow, Elsie. In the Midwest we had Elsie dolls, Elsie curtains, Elsie pins. I wanted Borden’s milk more than anything in the world. My cousin had it, because her parents bought it. My parents bought another brand of milk. Because it was two cents a year cheaper. I could tell the difference. I would not...

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Elsie, Lucy, Olive, this small boy's remarkable old aunts. Oh, how they rubbed their hands. But with glee or sorrow? Or even anger? Elsie had a strict-looking expression - when not rubbing her hands. Lucy wore spectacles that pinched her nose and, oh, had such a thin smile - when not rubbing her hands. Olive seemed serious, often frowning at me - when...

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Why this time? Why our culture? Has the beauty of our palace not fade away? Is it on a high ground we stand to quench defeat? What say ye, Elsie? Crimes of the past - Bone in my throat! Saving the face for heinous crimes - A sculpture with hidden doors. Innocent look - emblem...

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My pal, Elsie has the biggest plans, grandiose almost, fantastically fun to hear about. She is a complete delight to be around, and the clothes, hats, and shoes she wears really shout. She keeps me in stitches for days on end when she flies in with her long-suffering earl. She is going to start a blog, paint a...

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A smell that ignites some old feeling A sound that makes your mind roam A glimpse of the woman who loved me How I long to take you back home. Once a mother, a teacher, my carer Who would comfort and allay all my fears Once so strong, now incredibly fragile It is now I who must tend to your tears ‘Who is...

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