Long Babysit Poems
Long Babysit Poems. Below are the most popular long Babysit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Babysit poems by poem length and keyword.
She is arrogant and a tiny bit rude
She comes into the house on a run
Wanting to repair all of us
She is our mother’s sister, the oldest of ten
Aunt May! We yell, loving her in spite of herself
For she also has a side that will do anything for you.
She will babysit, mow, take your paper route,
Bring you homemade cinnamon rolls dripping with icing.
She is trying to fix mom now.
Mom had never needed repaired
But she wants to fix her nonetheless.
Mom rolls her eyes; tells us to go play.
But wait she has snatched my sister’s britches off.
She is insisting on a needle and thread so she can repair them.
My sister runs off screaming, angry as all get out.
Her embarrassed boyfriend slides silently out the door.
Background B.B King it
You'll get home alone
A Quartering as Jazz
As quart and liter
As meter and mile
Footage and reconcile
Irish Quartermasters Gaurd
Kevin J. O'Meadhra
Trace as feather
Low of ash
Bury of quill
Fide et amore
Nightingales Ergo
Send in rot
Further, borrow
Scottish wreathing
Entangled Britain
Relent
They of leave
Twined as lecture
Recital of yellow
Beckon brown
Revile of green
Tustled hearth
Baby babysit looks like
It's gonna hail
Jump and jive
As sent to the SAG
In tawdry spent
The war is lent
The establishment of thy own
A hate filled thrown
As crimes as thine
Tinkle and toast
In a entire
Only as pure
The picture as haunt
Plagiarism
Stores front
Sufferer as complaint
In stilled poverty
I law
Joan had little art
Lythed command
Hinde weeps rather as waltz
Herculean task
Wardrobe mantle black
Opening Suggestion of Betrothed
I once volunteered to babysit a dog; really, how hard could that be?
She looked at me with pitiful eyes, “Would you please watch my little puppy?”
“Sure”, I said, “I’d love to do it. Just bring him over tonight.”
“A little puppy”, is what she said, but that description didn’t fit him just right.
Only eight months old a puppy might be, that concept isn’t too hard,
But “little” isn’t an accurate word when describing a St. Bernard.
I didn’t slobber-proof myself or my things, didn’t know I had to do it,
My rain coat on and plastic coverings, was the only way I could get through it.
What he didn’t chew or eat right through he slobbered from bottom to top;
I chased him around with a leap and a bound; tracing every step with my new mop.
When she returned at the end of the week my apartment was quite the mess;
“Thank you so much, how can I repay you?” “Please, next time just loose my address!”
my friends know i don’t mean when i wave it off and say that i’m just tired
it’s not like i got any sleep, but that’s not the reason i’ve been bitter
they always knew me to be sweeter
it’s been almost four weeks since you last called,
at 9:47, i even memorized the time
do you remember it the same way that i do?
does your mind keep replaying it for you too?
it stings because i know that i could never picture anything past you and i
not like i even bothered trying,
i didn’t, that’s why i’m barely getting past this
do you remember me like i do you?
do you cry before going to bed too?
feels like i’m talking to a stranger, but i memorized your flavor
i know you cry with movies and babysit for your neighbor
do you tell her that you love her voice?
does she believe you like i did three weeks ago?
my friends know that you’re the reason why i’m tired, you keep me up all night,
you consume me without even trying
how is it possible that you could just survive me?
instead of sleeping i toss and turn at night and my friends have started thinking it’s your fault
yeah, they know that i’ve been bitter
they always thought that i was sweeter
Three sisters used to babysit
Back when my kids were small.
It's years since I have thought of them
But some things I recall.
Josephine, the eldest,
Was both gentle and subdued.
She liked to keep the lamps down low
To keep a peaceful mood.
Lydia, the youngest,
Was an energetic sort.
Each bulb was set to blazing
Like a night-time tennis court.
And Henrietta, in-between,
Was full of smiles and fun.
Some lights were on for brightness,
But not every single one.
My husband is like Josephine,
Preferring rooms near-dark,
While I resemble Lydia,
Her choices on the mark.
When we're both home we compromise
And just so no one's pissed,
We tap our Henrietta;
Light and dark thus coexist.
In our hands, what have, we have, that governments cannot take.
In our hands, what can, we make, that no-one can steal or break.
In our hands, we have, what others may not.
In our hands, is what we have, that we can use and help a lot!
Governments have done it wrong, nooses of money around our necks,
But we have something better friends and it is what is in our hands
So open your hands and you will find the very thing you need
A talent, a song or a handy mans tool, look friend you will see.
The choice is yours, take it please to help a friend in need
Don't charge money for the thing you have, but do what is needed for free
As each one looks and sees what they have, each one can share with another
Fix someone's broken plumbing, while someone else helps babysit for a mother.
When we use what we have, we go against greed and corruption.
We can complain, yes it is true but what has that got us but nothing.
So open your hands dear friend of mine, what is that you have
Barter to fill a need out of love not money my friend and you will see
and show the governments of the world, there is a better way.
There's something that lives inside me
I feel it cause it feeds on me
It feeds on all the softness
And leaves my rough edges to rub on me
I need an X-ray because I can feel it's big
It's like a cancer that consumes me
A darkness not from this world
Forged at a time I was lost
This unexamined pain can't be left unattended
Most days I babysit it and it drains me
I'm awake even in my sleep
Cause i need to keep an eye on it
Maybe that's why love is hard to keep
Cause it doesn't take root
How can it while the pain sits there
It's made a home where it shouldn't
And all the medications I keep taking ain't helping
Cause it goes straight to the pain
And leaves my body aching
And all this pain I'm left to project outward
The PO£T
From the moment we entered Brookdale, we were welcomed with a beautiful smile. It was Mrs. Edith in her caring way welcoming us to the place. Mrs. Edith loved dogs, and I was there with a therapy dog named Joy. She was huge Newfoundland, and Mrs. Edith couldn't believe her size. The two were about to embark on a beautiful friendship that would last her until she moved away. Mrs. Edith was a residential ambassador, and she wore her badge with pride.
She welcomed all the new residents, and she showed them what to do. She made them feel at ease, because maybe this their first time there in a retirement home. She had such a lovely, caring way and she loved to get her steps. She wore her Fitbit faithfully and walked around the place so much. She participated in all the activities and was always available if they needed her in the front office.
We had so many great conversations about friends and family. We talked about the good Lord and how much he had done for us! Joy would patiently waited after getting a pat on the head and let us have our discussions each time. It wasn’t until one day in November that she opened up. She told me that she really didn't want to go to Thanksgiving at her son's home.
I asked her why, and she said “ it’s because I feel that they want me to babysit.” They don't really value my time with them. I said, “I'm so sorry you're a beautiful lady, and you don't deserve that treatment.” What I didn't know is this was the start of her mental capacity going away. Week after week she stopped remembering as much. It wasn't until about a year and a half later, that her family took her to a different place. I will never forget the beautiful person of Brookdale that welcomed us to the place. I will see her someday in heaven, and get to thank her for welcoming Joy and me!
I refuse to babysit any more of your litters I told the McCats.
They begged, and pleaded, and complimented me on my flats.
Oh man. I am easy. A parrot who does not ever say “no”.
How far away will you be? I asked. “Where will you go?”
Just to the store, these cats lied through their teeth of yellow.
We’ll be back in a jiffy, they’ll be easy. You are such a kind fellow!
If there is one thing I know it is that good guys always finish last.
I said “Yes” but then I drank the rest of the whiskey out of my flask.
Kittens are trouble; they are mewers, whiners, swatters and worse.
They dumped the contents of my owner Mrs. Tee’s luxurious purse.
I knew I’d be in trouble if they were gone more than an hour or two.
They double crossed me that day; and these kittens were new.
They never came back, and that was sixteen years ago.
I am still taking care of this last litter, and they slink to and fro.
They love me like a mother, have imprinted with me.
So I guess it’s not horrible; it’s kind of great as you see.
Snail was not happy having to babysit.
He was irritated, but decided to not throw a fit.
Instead he recruited his best friend Mr. LadyBug McSemper
Who had common sense, taught ants, and never lost his temper.
They went to Faerie meadow and picked up their charge.
It was a darling faerie baby girl named Sonja, chubby large.
Do not let her ring the bluebells, her fairy mother cautioned them at eight.
By the time they figured out what she meant, it was pretty much too late.
For Sonja had pulled on the bluebells, and all the faeries came a running.
They were not happy with the caregivers, neither very cunning.
Maybe watching a faerie baby is too much for you, Sonja’s mother said.
They were then given the job of painting all the roses peach and pink and red.