Long Crocks Poems
Long Crocks Poems. Below are the most popular long Crocks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crocks poems by poem length and keyword.
I fell asleep in a wondrous glen
that seemed so full of sparkly things
Trees here, over there a unicorn what?
Yes a unicorn perched on a grassy rock
I looked at it, it too looked at me I say
how do you do? well ty. how do you?
Fine I reply. but why are you here?
I am your guide between our worlds
my name is pukka and first we go to
the high priest's hall where all is decided
So together they set off passing trees
shaped like crocks, elephants and birds
Most would talk to them of scandalous
things but Pukka rushed him past then
they were there. what do you think we
should do with the thief Simba they asked
Peg him out in the desert for one night
let the animal's decided his fate and so
that was what happened and entered
into the good book as the punishment
Right best be bustling along right fast
in a flash they were back in the glen
Simba rubbed his eyes in disbelief
Pukka had vanished all seem the same
Simba found some sparkly hairs call me if you need me
“Times have passed cheques (checks) are surpassed
We now have online banking. In my day
if they didn’t wanna pay, all you heard was The last line of this poem” ~~The Poet~~
Warned of the crocodile,
The tourists began to smile.
We will sunbath for a while.,
From Czechoslovakia he came.
Boris was his name.
The Frenchman was game.
Swimming in the river.
They saw two crocs sliver.
They began to quiver.
The biggest croc gulped.
Swallowed the tourist whole.
The next man met demise.
The crocks shot by locals.
Who had been searching.
They took the crocs skin.
And what they found.
Frenchman in the female croc.
And the Check was in the mail !!!
I’m racing round the NASCAR scene,
With bugs and grit upon my gleam.
The rubber flies, the dust goes wild,
Screen’s smeared, rip it off, I cried.
Tear it Off, Rip it Off!
Shatter My Veil,
to Crystal Clear, Please!
Got no time to wipe, stop or weep,
My tear-offs are stacked ten deep!
Snatch and rip my world to clear,
Let's end the pit-stop clutch gear.
I weaved through fumes and bumper brawls,
Blasted like bullets off the walls.
My screen is chipped by flying rocks.
Ripp'n the socks off track-worn crocks.
Tear it Off, Rip it Off!
Shatter My Veil
to Crystal Clear, Please!
I'd love to see my tear-off fly.
My flimsy film sent screaming high.
Maybe I'll see Vegas, before I die.
Take me to where I'd rather lie.
I’d trade this helmet, car, and game,
For brighter lights and louder fame.
Ditch the garlands, trade the shows,
If this screaming screen just goes!
Tear it Off, Rip it Off!
Shatter My Veil
to Crystal Clear, Please!
I have a flatter head said the gator, haughtily.
So what? The crock answered. “Let me see.”
But crock went home and pouted about it too.
His mother told him not to be so blue.
Gators have much smaller heads, she said.
Their brains are tiny, not easily fed.
But don’t tell him that. For you will hurt your friend.
So crock’s baby pouting promptly came to an end.
Mama Gator and Mama Crock got together.
They talked about their boys, their lives and the weather.
We can look at life in a different way,
But we will always be friends at the end of the day.
We can be better friends without all that bragging.
We can be better friends, without tongues that go wagging.
With rumors and gossip, we have nothing to gain.
So when tempted, remember you need to refrain.
Crocks and gators can be wonderful friends.
But they have to have kind feelings that never end.
They have to listen, and learn and be polite.
So they can go home happy at the end of each night.
Uncle Pete agrees to take his great grand-nephew fishing to Lake Mare.
I don’t have a pole, Larry says. No prob, says Pete. We can share.
I’ll make my own rod, the nine-year-old says, and grabs a twig of a stick.
Uncle Pete is decked out in expensive duds; his fishing tackle box is thick.
Look! I caught one! Larry yells! Flinging a giant bass out of the lake.
This startles Pete who thinks “this must have been a little mistake.
But Larry keeps flinging catfish, walleye and groupie out of the water.
His plain inexpensive fishing rod just gets hotter and hotter.
Uncle Pete is sitting on a rock, staring at frogs on rocks.
Thinking he should have worn his lucky crocks!
Larry offers to trade places, so Uncle Pete will have a chance.
But Pete didn’t have luck there either and did the “poor me” dance.
Soon, I will journey to the middle of the moon,
There, I will proudly place a memento with flair,
Fine sculpture shaped for reduced-gravity design,
One like proud Lady Liberty, facing the sun.
Like a bright beacon blazing in starkness, a spike,
Soaring melodies of beauty gently pouring,
From a breath of fresh air deaf to bees’ noisy hum,
Bold, elegant masterpiece dipped in crocks of gold.
Steady for the frozen silence of moon’s eddy,
That unyielding oak that confines winds to the mat.
Carved to freeze time, for history not to be starved,
Set in stone, clothed in a bright future free from threat—
Sweet treasure that no storm will ever dare unseat.
Observe the bending of tree & flower.
To rages; a gale… in tempestuous hours.!
Rain deep in curtain, makes interplay;
Fresh night skies, await the sun in power.
Morn air stirs, Lady’s chinking; breakfast crocks.
Day-streams 'cross backyards, endless blocks..
Splashes as sound; tables, are scrubbed..
Cars all hues; white thru red, too! radios rock!!
Sprinklers now silent; birdsong calls,
Gardener’s clipping the creeper on walls
Children’s cries are echoes around
Fountains splash in foyers & malls!!
Gundog flushes the dove; white ahead!
Tools are re-sharpened in timber shed,
Lilac buds blossom! Midst threaded verde,
In abundant gardens, Man & Woman wed.."
© Joe Maverick.co.uk
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