Long Toddy Poems
Long Toddy Poems. Below are the most popular long Toddy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Toddy poems by poem length and keyword.
Unquotable quotes - III
When in Rome, do as the Roman Nero.
The rain in Spain falls mainly on the vain and the
insane.
A grenade a day keeps the refugee away.
Cut your coat according to your girth.
The kettle calling the pot back.
Like father, like son; like mother, like neither.
Singing in the rain can get you pain in Spain.
Singing in the rain in Paris can get you chicks who do
the twist with fairies.
A sound heart in a sick body is like a tart groggy with
toddy.
The sun also rises best in the West.
Who said beggars are not choosers: they can choose the
place and moment they beg.
A white tiger abhors orange.
A policeman’s girl always wears handcuffs behind her
back.
A lawyer who licks the back of hands always gets paid
first.
A judge who yells at you tends to reduce the sentence to
a phrase.
Building castles in the air with sand is cheaper by far.
A marathon runner remembers the thighs but not the
laps.
At the end of the day is when you make your greatest
mistake – you go to sleep.
Churn milk to make curd: churn speech to make turd.
Pounding rice as a marriage rite brings no surprise on
the wedding night.
One swallow doesn’t make a drunkard out of a
teetotaller, but it sure signals a dry summer.
Cricketing jargon
The late-cut is the shave you missed out.
The off-cut is the cover drive turned phut.
The leg-pull is the batsman’s bras de fer to the leg
spinner.
The long-stop is the twelth man on the field.
The straight drive pierces the umpire’s reverie.
The full-toss is the fast bowler’s slipped disc.
The ton-up comes after the spin bowlers give up.
The innings defeat is the army beating the retreat.
Test matches end up in ditches for pitches.
A bumper is an un-coded message from the bowler to the
batsman.
A bumper is an overt warning to the inveterate blocker.
Tail-enders get to face the best batsmen all-rounders.
Umpires inspect pitches at the start of a match for coins
dropped by lawn-mowers.
An over-throw is a fielded ball flung by an outfielder at
the umpires and which misses the wickets by miles.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Cape Comorin (Kanyakumari) of Tamil Nadu,
Might be copious of the core concept called Xanadu;
Indian Ocean, Bay of Bengal, Arabian Sea,
Amalgamate and mingle here, like mermaids, full of glee...!
Treasures of silver, gold, and gemstones within oceans lay,
Sea gods and goddesses; ghosts and angels; live here, they say;
The sun, like a pendulum pushed from the sea, rises up,
Descends and disappears, like a kicked ball, before we sup...!
The southernmost part of the Indian nation is this,
Men and women of many religions live here in bliss;
Temples, mosques, churches, gurudwaras, and palaces antique,
Exhibit their inter-religiosity, unique...!
We don't have the Angel Fall, but a few falls we have here,
Young and old, at leisure times, play within them full of cheer;
Nature has made her paintings, lo, with green woods and forests,
Lullabies of little birds and beasts, never find a rest...!
Coconuts, Arrack nuts, spices, and tapiocas grow,
Bananas of varieties put up their fresh fruit show;
Goods trading we do; fish in terms of fresh tapioca,
We share, our simple love, in cups of coffee or cocoa...!
Jewelry, stone carvings, cane work, lace work, metal casting,
Needlework, sculptures, and sea shell crafts go everlasting;
Coral grass mats, palm leaf designs, cane, and bamboo caudex,
Jute-based handicrafts and we have so fine fiber products...!
A dialect of Tamil-mix Malayalam we chant,
Though our mother tongue is classical Tamil known so grand;
Kalial, Bow Song, Karagam Dance, and Kathakali,
We carry on our cultural heritage zealously...!
Rice, tapioca, coconut, seafood, legumes, lentils,
Mangos, bananas, and jacks are our food fundamentals;
Fishing flourishes; and farming into the inner land,
Toddy-tapping and rubber rearing too go hand in hand...!
Though our innate quality is love mixed with purity,
Modernity, no doubt, has brought in insecurity...!
Trust in the divine and love for nature, yet, make us grow,
Inspiring us beyond the oceans, and the skies to go...!!!
22 May 2023
If Your Birthplace-country was a poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Christmas Panic at the Pole
With only 12 days before Christmas,
Santa‘s concerned with the weather report,
the sleigh has a major malfunction,
needs repair and the time’s running short.
All the elves have themselves in a panic,
their shifts running twenty-four seven,
their tired and stressed but are doing their best
with remaining days numbering 11.
The reindeer are poised and polished,
Santa conducts their inspection with praise,
with the flight plan officially filed,
they’re all set to depart in 10 days.
Rudolph is fighting a head cold
But Santa knows he’ll be fine,
Santa rubs him with Vicks, with a hot toddy mix
cause he has to be ready in 9.
Bad news from North Pole repair shop,
some parts for the sleigh might be late
and there’s no time for home delivery tonight
as the countdown continues to 8.
Mrs. Claus and her singing elves,
entertain in the hall till eleven,
she has to confess as she plays all requests,
she’ll be glad when its over in 7.
Santa’s caught double dipping the eggnog,
with 6 left he has gained one more pound
those cookies and chips have gone this hips
he’ll be lucky to get off the ground
Mrs. Clause coaxes Santa try on his suit
they look at each other with dread,
with 5 days to go, it’s three inches to tight,
she looks for a needle and thread.
Well, tragedy has been averted
the sleigh’s fixed and Rudolph’s alright
with only 4 days before Christmas is here
looks like everyone’s up for the flight!
The Elves throw a disco party
Santa’s soaking his feet instead
with 3 days to go what he wants most of all
is a good night’s sleep in his bed.
The North Pole workshop got buried
in a blizzard with 2 days to go,
Santa summoned the elves at 3am
to shovel 12 inches of snow.
The presents are loaded, the reindeers prance
Christmas eve is finally here
Ho Ho Ho Santa cries as he flies cross the sky
“MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR”
Liz Labadie -Reilly
At dawn , I met a sturdy toddy tapper, He was a strong,sure-footed man and flexible, Who well-suited to do the risky job rather, And the tools of that job were primitive and stable.
He climbed around fifteen palm trees every day, Whose heights were nearly fifty to sixty feet, And he ascended thrice a day per tree anyway, With simple equipment tied around his waist like seat,
He scaled precariously the tall palm tree to harvest,
And he prepared by fermenting the sap of its flowers,
He climbed dawn and dusk to extract toddy in earnest,
At noon he climbed again to prune the tree fronds for hours ,
He did magic with the palm tree and produced wine,
The tapping labour got a thousand per day merely, Who worked in the lonely place to make a living out of it and dine, Alas, the tapping has no future across the coastal area severely,
The demand for toddy sap dipped very slowly, And the government has banned on toddy tapping too, All their repeated requests fell on deaf ears really, Please allow the abandoned cottage industries to grow and new.
On a spotty, sprinkled day, at the Plott's house on the block,
A squatty Uncle Scotty had sent a polka dotted, cuckoo clock!
The family said "That's handy!", and found a spot upon a shelf
For the dandy, new Swiss timepiece,...next to toddy mix and tea pots!
While Mommy Plott washed all her pots, Daddy Plott worked in the yard
The children, too, were caught worn out, after swatting flies so hard
By the twilight of the evening, they were worn, like pennies spent
Supping lentils, corn and pintos, ...then, up stairs they gladly went
Daddy Plott turned out the lights, falling, plop, right into bed
But bolted up with such a jolt!!...loud "CUCKOOS!!" hurt his head!!
The brand-new clock, made such a noise, his nerves hung by a thread !
That yoddling bird, that could be heard, might wake the neighborhood!
It popped out every hour, and the sour house would shake
With a hollering "CUCKOO' voice....with an awful racket made!
They covered it with pillows...and took it from the room
But the "CUCKOO-CUCKOO-CUCKOO" could be heard...from even the moon!!
They would just doze off, fall fast asleep, and think that it was done....
But when the hands said Next O'Clock......it would cluck out lots more fun!!
One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock...four....!!
The poor little bird, with his voice getting sore....
Saying 'cuckoo', ....'Cuckoo'......"CUCKOO!!!" again !!!
So Daddy took out the tick...........then he took out the tock
Then he defrocked little birdy.....so that he couldn't talk
Now it sits on a shelf.....in the house at the Plott's
Even the clock's little birdy.....can sleep like a rock!
The freedom to love is threatened
Is it possible to goes for happiness
in a world of deep injustice?
There is a gray shutter on the mountain
before the sun suddenly lights up the day
Smiling, whistling and soft tones
The delightful taste of autumn's sweet fruits
Autumn does not regret its short time
The "Scream" that was spun
by colorful leaves
Sip on a hot Blackcurrant toddy
Autumn closed the door quietly
and leaves the ice key on the stairs
Death, with its kiss of fire
When the angels of heaven
sprinkle sugar on the ground
Winter drives through your dream
Feel the silence and the absence,
appreciate the presence
25.10.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
~~~
Poem of the Day 26.10.2020
CREMATION - Poem for a Husband and Probably his Wife, Also
He wants his bones
No more grown
To her, he groans…
Wants loss of bones
That is, Cremation!
He wants to lose
That precious body
No chance for a last toddy
That route couldn’t keep
Those healthy bones
So it is she who’ll acquiesce
And lose her bones, his bones,
no moans
That is, Cremation!
His wife, instead
Enjoys their bed
She wants to visit
Him, without limit
Though gone, she’d like to see
His bones together, then
Underneath the green, no mind the weather
Please! No Cremation
Visiting him over the dark sky
Underneath that green bed
No one could ever emit a sigh
For, it is known, all others will tread.
Marriage ‘til death departed?
This gal won’t see him martyred
Her bones beside his bones
Or left to her, not his, moans.
He’d like to have sister’s no-bones
In with us! So-La! La!
Setting up a threesome
Ending that freesome.
No more, the Twosome!
About it, make no bones
Cremations don’t go like loans
Paid off, reverse no possibility
Done, there’s now no probability.
Gone, the bones to other energies
Try o try to find those synergies
Gone, is the dust forevermore,
Now - the ashes - you must store.
Gone, the body, evermore.
Ashes to ashes, so it is said
While here, be sure to enjoy your bed.
Cremation, Darnation!
(to be read loud + emphatically)
Carol Rae Bradford
March 2, 2006
9:00 am thru 10:00 am
Santa’s sleighing high,
Among the starlit sky,
Mounds and mounds of toys,
For all the girls and boys.
Rudolph leads the trip,
Knows every curve and dip,
Rudolph knows his way so well,
Santa can relax, how swell!
Ho, ho ho he shouts,
Have never any doubts,
For every child, the elves
Have packed, lovely lovely toys,
For all the girls and boys.
No child will wake up sad,
For none have been so bad,
Promised they've been good,
Mom and dad agreed,
So all the children will be glad.
Rudolph dives down fast,
This night has magic sprinkles,
Forever this will last.
Down every chimney Santa goes
One of his tricky feats,
Looks forward to his treats,
And brandy in case he’s cold,
Homemade biscuits and tea,
His face shines up with glee,
He’s thankful to each family,
Ho ho he shouts out happily.
He’s tired but content,
Nearly woke up Benny Trent.
All the toys have been delivered,
Must get home before the blizzard.
Rudolph, North Pole please,
I’m cold, i have a wheeze,
Mrs Claus is baking,
Santa’s toddy in the making,
She made a stew so yummy,
Santa rubs his tubby tummy.
Thank you, Santa Clause,
You deserve only applause.
For eons around this globe
You’ve been,
Yet never ever seen,
Delivering so many toys,
To all the girls and boys.
elivering so many toys,Tr all the girls and boys.
(Is this better than ChatGPT did yesterday? We're having a contest.)
dormant as naked
shivering trees
falling before me
yearning
for warmth
and companionship
in neverending
cold cruel
winter
Armageddon
solace at
the Grand
found it
in a hot toddy
and hugs from
Angela and Shelby
my favorite bartenders
Angela's latest
watercolor
just emerging
stunning
goddess
full of symbology
I see
dream catcher
earrings
colbalt silk dress
hemmed with
gold Hindu ohms
and swastikas
soft light
falling from
glowing moon's face
embedded
with
Cancer rising
astrological chart
Angela laughing
takes her
phone away
Shelby
petite
blue haired
pixie
swaps
toddler stories
her three year old
daughter
my two year old
granddaughter
being so adorably
horrible
I share
latest pics
from most recent
journey
youngest's wedding
big blue sky
soft white whisps
gracing over
beautiful bride
sequins sparkling
like snow
in setting sun
her handsome groom
in spiffy
mallard green tuxedo
crying
yeah...
and I have to
share my latest
girlfriend/online dating
experiences
always amusing
and hear that?
it's Billy Joel
Piano Man
playing
in the background
nothing like
day drinking
the bleak and grey
away
happy hour
happy day
It’s half pasta ate won chilli winter’s knight sew we staid in cider
Eye maid sum doe four my bred
Aye got in a pickle with sum flower, but I donut carrot all
Eye'd ewes plane knot self raisin flower
Witch meant my doe wood knot rise
My butter half is always wanton moor meet
He should be grapeful eye feed him eggcellent meals
Men can bee sew shelfish!
I’ve had to prawn my chocolate coins to feed my honey
Eye got sum cheep wild bore it was reduced and knot deer, it costa won penne
He says he wood help me cook but there isn’t mushroom in the kitchen
He’s always beefing about and deserves a roasting for his waffle
Butt when he says aye look radishing and sofishticated
Aye have to curry on as eye love him berry much
He’s bean sew suite toddy, he’ll be after a pizza the action later…
He butternut squash me, Oreo he will be mincemeat!
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