Long Mamie Poems
Long Mamie Poems. Below are the most popular long Mamie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mamie poems by poem length and keyword.
Baseball cards and hula hoops
Baloney sandwich, Campbell’s soup
Howdy Doody and Mickey Mouse
Mamie and Ike in the White House
American Bandstand, Rock 'n Roll
Elvis the Pelvis, Nat King Cole
Pez Dispensers and Kool-Aid
Bedtime for Bonzo, Panty Raids
Oscar Mayer’s Wienermobile
Superman was the ‘Man of Steel’
Archie & Veronica, Mad Magazine
Skirts and Bobby-Sox, Jukebox Scenes
The Roadrunner, Tom and Jerry
Durward Kirby and a Moore named Gary
The Price is Right, Let’s Make a Deal
Hostess Twinkies – b & w newsreels
A Dog named Lassie and Rin Tin Tin
Yankees and Celtics always win
Mickey Mantle, Ernie Banks
Whitey Ford, Hammerin' Hank
Joe McCarthy and the Red Scare
Semi-Crewcuts or Slicked-back hair
The 1950’s weren’t built to last
Still and all ~ quite a cast!
I had a dream my Dad and I
We're hunting out on Greenwood Island
Along a trail of peppervines
Where memories and sea birds hide
Dawn is breaking, we head back
Through the morning mist we pass
A silouhetted shanty shack
A face familiar, old and black
Miss Mamie knows
The rains and winds that blow
She remains like a ghost
On Greenwood Island
Miss Mamie sips an old tin cup
Says,"Morning fellows, any luck?"
Dad gives her a coon, she's touched
She says, "God bless you, thank you much!"
Her red curtains open up
Wind chimes, dreamcatchers and such
Colored mason jars, I'm struck
Unto my child eyes, magic stuff
Miss Mamie knows
The rains and winds that blow
She remains like a ghost
On Greenwood Island
Here the wild things call home
Where Confederate soldiers
Where the Indians of old
Beneath the sand dunes rest their bones
Miss Mamie knows
The rains and winds that blow
She remains like a ghost
On Greenwood Island
Memories, memories
I had a dream, a dream that I'm
Old and alone on Greenwood Island
Along a trail of peppervines
And needlerush, where sea birds cry
Days of dying, dreams of flying
Memories like moonbeams shining
On a zephyr, climbing
Into the ether, high I'm
Over golden gates, a scene
Of secret things of crows and kings
Memories, memories
©2017. All Rights Reserved
I have her nineteen fifties' Trifari
fine costume jewelry, which I hold dear,
since my sweet mom bequeathed it all to me;
when worn or touched, I feel her presence near.
The ritzy, sparkling rhinestone matching sets
showcased in satin-lined, faux leather case,
were treasured as high fashion; no regrets
when given as a gift of style and grace.
And too, are pearls embedded in bright gold
with settings of such intricate design.
I love to look at them, to fondle, hold
these precious pieces treasured now as mine.
I wear my mother's gems from time to time
and feel her basking in the lovely glow
that once adorned her beauty in its prime
and graced her loveliness in stylish show.
So I devotedly take tender care
of these Trifari gifts passed on to me;
her treasures shine with special love we share,
safeguarded through her cherished jewelry.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Old Jewelry or Just Old Things
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 11/06/2016
Since the1920s, Trifari has been one of the most respected and admired producers of costume jewelry in the United States. Founded in the1910s by Gustavo Trifari, the Italian-immigrant son of a Napoli goldsmith, the company has designed jewelry that’s been worn by countless high-profile clients, from Mamie Eisenhower to Madonna. Trifari costume jewelry is highly collectible today.
The Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though that dullard Dwight D. sat in the Executive Chair
And his frumpy wife Mamie had really bad hair
Matching those dowdy, plain dresses she'd wear ...
While husbands toiled in obscurity for large corporations
The "Ugly Americans," reviled by most other nations
Their stay-at-home wives feeling mostly frustration
Downing "happing pills" daily instead of real medication
Their sons sporting letter sweaters, obedient jocks,
Their daughters in plaid skirts and white bobby socks
Penny loafers and saddle shoes were in for ten years
Along with white levis and coca-cola -- never rum, never beer
Yet how about Krushchev's dust-ups with Tricky Dick Nixon
What about Sputnik 1 and the panic it put us in
And remember George Wallace and old Lester Maddux
Hosing down *******, echoes of Crispus Attucks ...
The rise of brutal pro football threatened apple pie and baseball
Heralding the next decade's premiere spectator sport, i.e., 'spaceball'
Joe McCarthy dug up the dirt of a "red scare's" nitty gritty
In the work of the House un-American Activities Committee
Then there was Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus
Championing the yearning for justice in so many of us
And the music, the music, so outrageously wild
Chuck Berry, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper -- that overgrown child
Yes, the Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though we shan't heed the call of those who'd return us to there
Dainty toad girlie gave a cha-cha-cha
Her dress was lacy, and her lashes were tah-dah
You have so much lace! Said her potential mother-in-law
She was persnickety though, this mother of Thaw.
Thaw had been chasing the dainty bullfrog around the bog.
She did not want to disrespect him, but he was a crazy frog.
I have promised myself to Cedric, a well-behaved toad.
He has the best manners, and his feet are spotted with gold.
I could carry you off, threatened the bullfrog to toadie girl.
But his mother stopped him right there and gave his ear a whirl.
You will not disrespect women, even if they are faeries or toads.
The rest of us were glad he had a mama like Mamie Bullfrog Olds.
Back in the fifties
America seemed much calmer
McCarthy's commie blacklists
Sputnik's shocking launch
Ike's wife Mamie so sedate
That pre-historic hairdo
World War Two over
We needed some time to heal
Alan Ginsburg penned his 'Howl'
Chuck Berry goosed his walk
The West Wing conservative
White House picket-fence painted
Boom! an explosion
Cultural revolution
Sixties' deaths brought us down
Hendrix, Morrison
Jackie became Onassis
Where's JFK's Camelot
Seventies came, went
Eighties crashed, burned, flamed out too
But Jerry Rubin's Wall Street
Greed ruled the Nineties
Internet changed all of us
The world at a click-click-click
New Millenium
Rapid change hurtles forward
People do change, however
Shootings dot landscape
Retreat into our smartphones
Loneliness Unconnected
Now the Age of Trump
Rears its flame-orange mane and screams
Me-too Movement gains traction
Women come forward
Teen suicide rate rises
Society imperiled
May 07, 2019
Entry: 'Best Sedoka' contest
Sponsor: Lu Loo
Don’t take my word for it
I don’t know anything, she said
She thinks she’s being clever
Our auntie Mamie Bread
Her husband keeps his wisdom to himself of course
He likes his blueberry pie, and she can be a vindictive source
I heard this, that, and the other, but it might not be true
She repeats all gossip, our auntie Mamie Sue
I am not an expert, but I think you’d better find a different friend
I have heard he is a drinker, and his behavior goes beyond the bend
To get her to loosen up or give anyone a bit of a chance
Would mean to reconstruct her, as she does the gossip dance.
My Uncle Charlie sits in his chair, not speaking, gobbling his ice cream.
It amuses me to think that once upon a time, she was my uncle’s dream.
They get along terrifically, because he takes his opinions to work.
Shares nothing with his wife, careful not to irritate or irk.