Judy’s catchy enthusiasm galvanized our pirate crew
so we set sail down the seven seas, ocean blue
yo-ho-ho- we sang loudly, merry and gay
other fearsome pirate ships moved out of our way
excitement permeated our mission, our spirits high
we kissed all our hardships, doubts and do nots goodbye
stirred up, we were filled with crazy amounts of joy and glee
ready to be as evil and mean as Simon La Gree
We are going to make our enemies walk the plank we sang
giving exuberant cheers, our enthusiasm as loud as a bang
we snarled and grouched, and fought over who would be chief
arguing all the way to the largest West Indies big reef
she had set our hearts afire, giving us confidence galore
We were still arguing about it, when we reached a sandy shore
in a very short time, our Judy was elected captain by a vote
I could not argue about it in this island, remote
Categories:
grouched, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme
She grouched, grumbled, griped and groaned.
We complained about her complaining.
She was a pain
Still we lugged her around to all family reunions
She could clear a good story off a picnic table in seconds
Replacing it with something dour, dank, disgusting and depressing
She is our great Aunt Constance Bee.
Here she comes now, watch the relatives scatter.
Same attitude, same gripes, same wheezing and sneezing.
She walks toward us one leg at a time, bearing down with a hard look.
You have to admit she is consistent, mother says.
She has enough consistencies to be predictive, actually.
On a good note, we know if we bring her, we do not have to stay forever.
The rest of them clap as we get up to leave;
which makes it easier to get out the door.
Which may be why we always bring Aunt Constance Bee.
Categories:
grouched, 10th grade, 4th grade,
Form: Prose Poetry
The sturdy single lady,
who triumphantly raised her 3 kids;
Though her path was dark and shady,
her aim was so profound and lucid.
If not her
then who
deserves the mother's day?
The jovial teacher and mentor,
who edified her lovable students,
in a stalwart way & so that emotional rapport
and so no haters and no truants.
If not her
then who
deserves the teacher's day?
The exemplary independent woman,
who toiled all alone amidst the chaos,
whose life a pristine path, one should zoom in,
yet she never boasted of and never grouched.
The self made woman, I revere,
who stood on her own feet,
until she drew her last breathe,
both literally and figuratively
If not her
then who
deserves the women's day?
A tribute to my grandmother who died last Sunday. She worked as a teacher and got retired before 27 years. Still, the school she worked was declared as a holiday as a mark of respect on the day she died.
Categories:
grouched, grandmother, tribute,
Form: Free verse