House To House Poems

SNAIL MAIL

SNAIL MAIL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Young Stu, with his shell brown and bold,
From the forest post office, he slowly strolled.
     With letters packed on his back galore,
     With slime as his tires, he slowly went to each door,
"Your snail mail's arrived!" he extolled.

“You fool! Haven’t you heard of email?” badger exclaimed
“Of all your slowness, you should be ashamed. 
     “With the click of a mouse 
     You no longer deliver from house to house.”
“But, but…I’ll lose my job,” Stu proclaimed.

“Oh, Stu, you’re so uninformed, so old school.
Your skill set you must totally retool!
     Have you not heard of UPS or perhaps FedEx?
     You can deliver packages and other objects!
“But snails don’t drive. You’re such a fool!”

“Besides, I’m looking forward to my postal pension
Not to mention days without strife and tension.
     And all those Forever Stamps I’ve amassed
     I’ll sell online or on my webcast.
Then with Musk I’ll travel to space, otherworldly dimensions.” 

Baking Bread

I open the oven door
to a blast of heat 
and hot bread bulging
out of a high tin, brown, crusty
and ready to be taken out.
That smell wafts across 
seventy years to when I can
remember bread being delivered
in a horse and cart.

Carrying a big 
wicker basket full of hot bread, 
the baker would run
house to house whilst his horse
ambled along at a pace 
in perfect sync with the bakers
progress along the street.

Weekday mornings
I would wait out front 
and rush the hot bread 
inside for my mother to make me
sandwiches for lunch.
Mum always complained
that the bread was too hot 
for cutting. I had a steaming 
slice smothered in butter 
before I left for school.

Big, thick, uneven slices
of bread holding metwurst
or cheese or peanut butter
greeted me when I opened 
my lunchbox at school.
Bread was never better.
Nearing eighty, I keep
baking bread, writing poems,
as if trying to recapture 
those pleasures still steaming
in the past before they go.

Who's Next?

Shudder not, for it’s the language of Death.
Who’s next? —it asks
Going from house to house,
Both of marble and mud
It cares not
Nor fears man, rich or poor,
Warrior or coward,
Whose nest it visits,
His cold arms ready for embrace,
Ready to snatch
Life is just but one lugubrious journey
On sea or on land or on air,
Which must end with the sound of
A school bell signalling the end of a recess.
So rejoice not when one, friend or foe, drops from the line,
For you could be next
And your kinsman next after you.
One after the other,
We drop
Like one old, battered leaf after another, in the
Spell of autumn.

Armageddon is Here

Her eyes filled up the way they do when she is predicting madness
We try not to take her words literally, for she is theatrically over-the-top
Armageddon, she told us, the armies are gathering now for end of times
Who to tell first? The father who abandoned her at eight.
She scoffed, thinking how strange it was that she thought of him first.
He was maybe her least favorite person in the world.

She almost picked up the phone to call her mother
When she realized that she would be pooh-poohed and chastised.
Who to tell? She wailed in a lamenting way to her kitchen clock.
The clock was no help, but her journal was.
She wrote a little note “I wailed in a lamenting way”.
She could use that someday.

Her sister would be going to bed about this time; she worked nights.
What about strangers? It would be fun to alert strangers.
She put on her most colorful outfit and left her home.
Running from house to house, she screamed and yelled and shrieked.
“Armageddon is here! Armageddon is here! Save yourselves!”
The neighbors were accustomed to her;
They did not open their doors or look out. They knew who it was.

HALLOWEEN

HALLOWEEN

With scary costumes, as per the tradition
And going house to house, the ambition
Yet Halloween to most
Might suggest a ghost
With a price that’s to be paid for derision

Carved pumpkins for no good reason
Always ready at the end of the season
At least in the places they grow
It’s Jack O’Lantern you know
But if Pagan, you’re accused of treason

For kids today, it’s supposed to be fun
Just before November first has begun
Acting as souls of the dead
But Trick or treating instead
Few still know Samhain was the one

animals trick or treat

I know, “Let’s go trick-or-treating!” the schnauzer said.
Said the cat, “You must be completely dead in the head!”
Pink bunny was jumping around in circle with glee.
Ebony bat said, “If you do it, you have to take me!”

They decided to do it on this October Halloween night.
They dressed in costumes meant to humor not fright.
Went house to house and got no carrots, but candy.
“I love this!” said the candy-eater, schnauzer named Randy.

“I wanted lettuce or carrots,” the rabbit lamented a bit.
said the bat “You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.”
Pink bunny got eaten by big bad wolf along the route.
Cat ran off with a well pawed Tom, rabbit continued to pout.

No More Tupperware Ladies

I am a frozen bowl lady! A frozen bowl lady!
I will come at your call, to fritz your icies, Said Sadie.
We did not understand at all, not living in mom-at-home-times.
It’s like the Tupperware lady, said someone else, My Auntie Frimes.

You would have to live back then and see their rallies, she said.
We chanted our song up and down, at the back of each other’s head.
Went from house to house selling plastic keepers with lids.
Until women went to work and the company fell on the skids.

Early Morning Message

the eastern phoebe
so excited can’t stop tweets -
house to house, “it’s Spring”

3/27/2023

Never Heard the Rules

I never heard the rules.
     Guessing was an art.
     Observation, that was a start!


     Asking "why", was a favorite question.
     Who? or what? was part of the lesson.


     Going from house to house,
     Seeing families with rules,
     Some without.


     No one had the answer to "why":
     We cut chicken off the bone,
     Left adults quiet and alone.
  

     Learned to fight when attacked.
     Learned to argue and talkback.


     Found that decision I made had as much value,
     And not to be afraid.


     Always acted outside the box,
     Never felt guilty,
     Or at a loss.


     Made a simple rule for me;
     Don't hurt another soul or me.
     But be bold and be free!

There Is a Tree of Copper Leaves

there is a tree of copper leaves
presentation most fervent in Winter season
after all of crepe and oak are bare
my eyes turn bronze
this tree turns me on
i can’t look away

when pines are flaked with snow
or rendered seussical,
having a topside arch &
their downy needles decorated
my eye hues green with white
and the whimsy I feel
in my scarf and wind
a perpetual tease

the flicker of lights from house to house
the darkness loses its sight
the ho ho ho & merry flight
jingle bells down to my toes

i like fall
but i fall for winter
season of the sweater
& wool of wisdom

we follow the lamb
the shepherd leads

through blinding snow
teaching us which way to go

12/5/2022

Witch Hellganya

Hellganya was the busiest young witch I have ever seen.
She knew what she wanted and went after it with guff. 
I will borrow bark from the McDoogles and the McClean. 
I watched her travel from house to house borrowing stuff. 

If it is borrowing, will you be bringing it back? I asked her. 
She laughed at my naivety and thumped me on the head.
Like I would return this snake and that mangy cur.
I was entranced by her confidence, which was well fed.

Come on Cat she yelled to her sidekick, we’ve got a potion to brew.
Of course, I knew that it was stealing – borrowing it was not, 
But I went along for I have wanted the recipe for her magic stew.
So with cat dog and snake we rode away to her magic pot spot.

We Were a Motley Crew

We were a motley crew
No pirate flag or eye patches
Still we were gloriously dangerous
The neighborhood kids
The south side gang
We tore up the air with laughter
Running house to house with popsicles
Tormenting the dogs who chased after us
Wanting to be in laps that never sat

My Favorite Season

my favorite holiday season
is when i can smell the 
aroma of hot chocolate
and pumpkin pies
when i can watch little ghosts
run from house to house
in search of treats
and eat dinner rolls
and mashed potatoes 
all day long
skipping the turkey

Santa Had a Small Break

On Christmas Eve Santa decided to take a bit of a break
He sat on the stairs, for his right leg had a small ache.
Let’s get going! Yelled Dasher from the rooftop above.
Santa wanted to do it; he has the heart of a dove.

So, he walked through his sorrow and limped through his pain.
To do what he had to do to make Christmas great on the lane.
He went from house to house through the rest of the night.
For to give up at this juncture would not have felt right.

Old Owl Witch

Old Owl Witch was clever, courageous, cunning and wise
She attracted owls, lightning bugs and fireflies, 
She wanted to attract dragons, unicorns and bats.
But this was not to be; however, she did get some cats.

Which are your familiars? She was asked by the dumb.
Any good witch knows you are never limited to one.
Old Owl Witch had secrets and potions and spells upon spells.
She lived in the forest where the conniving troll lover dwells.

We never see her on Halloween as we go house to house.
But sometimes we see her owls dive down a terrified mouse.
The rodent is shrieking as they travel with their prey divine. 
We have heard she swallows gray mice up sixteen at a time.

• Short House To House Poems
• Famous House To House Poems
• Best House To House Poems
• Read House To House Poems
• Long House To House Poems
• House To House Quotes