Life of Lonny McBain
Being home by the fire will ease the strain
from being out in this cold miserable rain
the crackling sparks will shed some pain
making me feel I’m not yet insane.
Boiling some water for tea with no name
home made soup I’m known by fame
rabbit stew in fridge, from sport and game
villagers will stop in with desire and acclaim.
Smoke flowing by the antique rooster vain
hearty fire cracklin’ as I sip my vintage champagne
being a little stuporous I favor my old hickory cane
but I feel the boozy rewards in my aging brain.
Looking out the window is a bit of eye strain
life in the forest is dim but I don’t really complain
lots of critters scatter around in this terrain
I treat them well, I believe in humane.
The nights are quiet here, only the horn of a train
I enjoy my place of contentment and free rein
have no concern that my life is dented and mundane
my needs are met by the measures that sustain.
No leprechauns dance around my shack that’s plain
I have serenity which the world does not stain
remote and peaceful, I live not in vain
this is like Limerick and I am Lonny McBain
You can’t bury him yet
The wise old owl well fed
Eyes keen, a healthy spleen
A wrinkled face shows a has-been
But not so fast
Old hickory not passed
But vigilant and wise
Wisdom his greatest prize
He saunters slowly like a snail
His stories, jokes are all old mail
His humor, full of jest
Tall tales believed are just the best
He loves his kids
And grandkids in the midst
Penuriously slaved
Years of elements braved
He’s yearned it, earned it
While life has taught him quite a bit
So when you pass him say “hello”
Not finished yet, his life is on the go
Have you seen little beautiful butterflies?
All yellow, yellow and red, and all red ones
Bet you can't say who among them the prettiest is.
Eyes are bright buttons like, bows on hair big and small,
A cute little snack bag on one petite shoulder
Clinging to the parent’s or grandparent’s hands.
One of them at times seems to be a little less cheery with
One or two drops on rosy red cheeks
Dear Mamma hugging and consoling
Daddy cool pretending as not seen it.
See them running round and round the pillar
Singing the good old ‘Hickory Dickory Dock’
Sometimes ‘Asha Busha’ and one will fall down
As they wait for the school van to come
Adding more shine to the porch than the gleaming morning sun
Is there any better blessing we can ask for than these little chatterboxes?
Fill your hearts today with this daybreak scene
For tomorrow the children will grow up, lose all their innocence
Become young men and women and far away they will go,
It’ll be even beyond Mars, today’s most distant place
Therefore don’t miss it today!
The old campfire was pleasant as we sat by its flames.
Thinking on days gone by, and certain people with forgotten names.
Talking of life and all that we’ve learned.
And of certain deals gone bad and just how badly were we burned.
Thinking on good times as well as the bad.
Sometimes we make happy, sometimes we make sad.
It’s all about choices, the ones that are given and the ones that we make.
The ones given freely, the ones that we take.
We are lucky to be living in a country so free.
As we watch smoke billowing thru leaves of this old hickory tree.
One thought came to mind and was spoken out loud.
As a citizen of America, I’m honored and proud.
And as we reminiscence on our families, especially our wives.
We’d be nowhere without them, they brighten our lives.
This kinship and loyalty to our country, should be given freely without being told.
If we do this, then democracy and freedom will be ours to cherish and to hold.
Keep God on the front page in all that we do.
And He’ll keep standing for the Red, White, & Blue.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.