Long Jack and jill Poems
Long Jack and jill Poems. Below are the most popular long Jack and jill by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jack and jill poems by poem length and keyword.
Hickory Dickory Dock, the mouse,
Ran up the clock,
But the crooked little man
In his crooked little house,
Who caught this crooked mouse
After Humpty Dumpty's fall,
Could not prevent the coming
Down of baby, cradle and all!
Now old Mother Hubbard,
Checked her bare cupboard
And found Jack and Jill,
Who lived just up the hill,
She wrapped poor Jack’s head
In vinegar and brown paper!
Guy Fawkes scandalous caper,
Was renown, he met the Duke of York,
Who to Fawkes, seemed quite a dork,
For the Duke took all his men up,
Then down, and up and again down,
He did not want to break his crown!
At that moment a Ladybird,
Whose house was on fire and
Her children gone, flew to the house,
That Jack built, and sat on the maidens
Lap all forlorn,
In the early morn,
But the maiden had gone to bed with John
Who still had his trousers on!
Both had a ball, and sang
A song of Sixpence,
But in their defence
They were hiding from Guy Fawkes
And his gunpowder plot,
In bed, thought of it naught!
Suddenly through their bed
Ran three blind mice for their life
And a farmers wife,
Who was cutting their tails with a knife!
Imagine three little kittens,
Who had lost their mittens
But could have no pie,
When they saw the blind mice,
Pie was history, as once,
Twice and thrice,
They caught the blind mice!
Meanwhile Polly had put the kettle on
So that all the mourners for Cock Robin,
Could all have a cup of tea,
It was the fly with his little eye,
Who first saw him die.
However, through all of this,
Little Jack Horner
Who sat in his corner
Heard Tom, Tom the Pipers son,
And though related none
Visited the Queen of hearts,
Who gave them some tarts!
Night time was nigh
And way up in the sky,
Was a twinkling star,
That Jack Sprat spotted from afar,
And so did old King Cole,
But at the same time heard the bell toll,
For poor cock robin,
So he started sobbing,
But soon cheered up when
He saw a fine lady upon a white horse,
Riding to Banbury Cross!
Wee Willie Winkie, asked for a ride
Through the town,
Still in his nightgown!
But when he saw the cow jump
Over the moon,
And the dish,
Run away with the spoon,
He rubbed his eyes and said what a fiddle,
Hey diddle diddle!
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang
back into the womb
versus being threatened
courtesy beastie boy gang
beating me to a pulp
after accurately discerning
being scared less pang
suddenly imagining myself
buffered, and buttressed
within zen Sibyl
prophet table Chinese philosophy
known as Yin and Yang.
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
haint got any got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
Be Lineate Sir
Jack and Jill went up a hill. Time to take another pill.
Bobby needs a sympathizer Why no try a tranquilizer?
God is good, and God is great. Take your opioid at eight.
Aunties lived a life of sin. Ease her mind with aspirin.
Pa’s been to long at the Jug Dose him good with a wonder drug.
It is a shame what some folks do; But Fentanyl won’t bother you.
God in heaven answers prayer; My liver pills are green and square.
We are to earth, God’s Testament. I rub my joints with liniment.
Prior To Commencing Poem, I Dreamt Contretemps Escalating fusillade...
Galvanized hotheaded idealists (jaded
locals - kindled moderates) nursed
oppressive proletarian quavering riot
spearheading triumphant utopian voice...
whether contrived right here and now,
or purportedly fragmented remnant
occuring during REM sleep
beside the point, asper conjuring atypical
bent arising within mindscape,
sans garden variety *****sapien.
he laments instantaneously forgetting
intricate webbed tapestry comprising
unconscious manifestations nearly every time
reluctantly opening eyes,
whereat realistic landscape within noggin
vanishes without any trace
try as I might to induce recall
asper impressive world within
hydroelectric powered illusory windmills,
despite non cacophonous disruption
i.e. natural awakening processes,
yet for the life of me
after effect bruited
within entire body electric,
hence envisions some contrivance
mebbe mental construct
prior to awakening
to captcha essential details.
Ah...mother lode of ore ridge and hill
elusive material could perhaps yield
adequate money order to pay one bill
alleviating penurious state, so I can chill
without succumbing L'chaim going downhill
fast, especially since monthly social security
taken in toto with more'n
one bitter medication prescription pill
(father's little helper) eases panic/anxiety attacks
plaguing yours truly since...reciting
storybook rhyme 'bout Jack and Jill
argh, how an overdose quite tempting
escaping once and for all where little doth fulfill
me, cuz thankfully individual choice of freewill,
not banned by pro life fanatics,
imagining to wrest free millstone
formerly revolutionary war gristmill
sitting idle (billy me) bidding one final goodwill
to deux daring daughters,
ditto same number twisted sisters mentally ill
papa and bro respectively
understandably justifiably, emotionally deserted
detached baby boomer whole existence a standstill
overly cautious livingsocial,
what...repeating mundanity till...
death, a tragi/comic relief.
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb
to escape unrelenting forbidding gloom.
perhaps cuz mine generation
nsync with baby boom.
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless (three plus) scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
yours truly haint got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish -
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
HEY DIDDLE, why the Cat and the fiddle
And the Cow that jumped over the moon?
Why they're all here in Nursery Rhyme land
At the wedding of the Dish and the Spoon.
The Little Dog is happy,The Cat is playing a tune
And soon the Dish and the Spoon will go hand in hand
Off on their honeymoon.
The guests include OLD KING COLE
And HUMPTY DUMPTY who sat on a wall
Though he's being very careful today-
Doesn't want to spoil things by having a fall.
MARY MARY QUITE CONTRARY
Has left her garden behind
And come along with LITTLE BO-PEEP
With all her sheep to mind.
SIMPLE SIMON has come with the Pieman
Because they're preparing the food.
And LITTLE JACK HORNER wont sit in the corner
Thinks it might be rather rude.
JACK SPRAT AND HIS WIFE have come for the feasting .
So has THE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE,
And OLD MOTHER HUBBARD hopes something left for the cupboard
And her poor dog who's at home with the flu.
WEE WILLIE WINKIE has changed out of his nightshirt
And dressed up in his sunday best,
But he'll have to leave early to check on the children
To make sure that they're all at rest.
LITTLE TOMMY TUCKER wont need to sing for his supper.
GEORGIE PORGIE said he wont make anyone cry.
And JACK AND JILL have brought some lemonade in their bucket
In case some of the guests get dry.
DOCTOR FOSTER returned from Gloucester-
Says he hopes it doesn't rain
But he's brought his umbrella just in case
Doesn't want to get caught out again!
THE CROOKED MAN although he's bent double
Said he's determined to dance,
His partner is BETTY BLUE who lost her shoe
Then happened to find it by chance-
Well these are just some of the wedding guests
Travelled from far and wide
That have come along to celebrate with
The proud groom and his dish of a bride....
So now you know what's going on
With the Cat and the fiddle and the COW that jumped over the moon.
And why the Little Dog laughed to see such fun
All because the Dish fell in love with the SPOON.
Beatnik Snaps
Onomatopoeia-topia
(poet sits on a stool in the café and begins)
I could onomatopoeia all day daddio
With cool sounds in the iambic pandemics sphere out there.
“Far out man…far out… Onomatopoeia all the way” (The crowd shouts and snaps fingers in approval.)
On the down winds jive below slow jazz notes I go
Goatee Joe eats the avocado on the down and low
Basements bottomless souls measured tuna outlet cries out
The bongo boys drag on the joint while munching on the tacos loco
Cigarette smoke lays down a cloud…talks to the humming bird
Laying down some heavy tones to the bones with the smooth sax
Cats calling in the alley way cruising on the cat nip trip
Waiting on a little miss kitty called Pussy Meow
She’s a no show Joe. Man, that’s no way to go.
In the wild thick woods of words working on his behalf
The half past 1952 Johnny, goes marching home
Alone down Bluesville Avenue in a zoot suit out back Jack
Slick black jacket looking for some chicks on the beatnik clicks
Snap!
Notes raining down on the sax as some jive time chumps
Get busted by some jive time cop
Flat foot flopping down the street with some flat foot beef to pound
Drowned on pounding grounds outside
Down in the drip drop flop of day….Grazing on the rain.
“Shows over Jack and Jill.”
“It’s been a thrill.” (More finger snaps from the beatnik crowd)
Debaucheries Departure
Sooner or later we gotta blow this café gig…..Dig?
Slurred speech measured beats by bongo boys bid a retreat
In matters like this …..tipping matters….and meter matters…My meters dry man.
We tapped out our tab long ago so….One last drink!
What’s your poison my onomatopoeia friend?…He retorts; “You’re right.”
“ I don’t want to pay it either”…. but we gotta get out of this joint.
What kind of iambic pandemics beatnik friend do you think I am?
In deed briated with liquid libations I guess….. (Snaps)
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
haint got any got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
Heartbreak and spice,
everything nice,
Jet pepper and cracked
cinnamon.
Variety and life, diamonds and
curls,
Feminine mystique such a sin.
Sorrow and snails, mysterious
things,
We all know boys will be boys.
With leather and musk, a little
bit rough,
Trashing out bodies, their toys.
Jack and Jill went up a hill,
To trip, tequila, and fall.
And then, they both came
tumbling down,
Cushioned by an eight-ball.
Soldiers, steeds and super glue,
Unable to foresee,
A fall, a break, rock bottom hit,
Nothing that can't be fixed...for
a fee.
Mirror, mirror, in my hand,
Am I the most anorexic of them
all?
Poke and prod and bended
knee,
Hoping he might call.
Light a candle...Be nimble! Be
quick!
Lift your skirt and take my dick!
Gladly! If after I meet you,
Peter,
Midnight strikes, and you're the
pumpkin eater.
Bah bah, black sheep,
Happen to know a virgin?
An apple a day, may keep the
doctor away,
If you ate it, instead of them.
There was a young lady, who
lived to buy shoes,
Despite what others may say.
Nine, 18, 27 months,
The price she had to pay.
Maybe, he sat in the corner,
Dreaming of nothing but pie,
He stuck something in, it
wasn't his thumb,
Pat on the head, what a good
guy.
Star light, so bright!
Is that a white light I see?
Hit me baby, one more time,
Revive my agony.
Little miss innocent, sat in a
bar,
Drinking her whiskey and rye,
Along came a spider, sat down
beside her,
Bedding her with a lie.
Stars that twinkle, diamonds
too,
Never questioned, never
thought,
To be the naive reasoning,
Behind fortunes sought.
A fairy tale, nursery rhyme,
poison antiquities,
Teach the future something
more,
Something more to seize.
Tiskets and taskets, better left
for baskets,
A distant era, another time.
Pockets full of ashes and
posies,
Archaic cradle rhymes.
Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.
The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.
Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!
I think it’s time for you to finally go and face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!
“My,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”
Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.
They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.
The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”
Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.
We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat."
Peter trembled with a chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”
He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!
“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you guys help me!”
Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.
For he ran across a man named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!
10~12~14
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~