As I sit at staring at my mobile phone, waiting
For the telephone to ring
I think maybe I will be lucky
A love letter maybe, the Postman will bring
A message from the one I love
As true as true can be
Just remember that special love
Begins with you and me
Always in my thoughts and on my mind
The girl I left so far behind
Whose magic smile just melts my heart?
And took my very soul right from the start
I may be so far away
In a hostile land and against the enemy
But will be home again someday
Back to your arms, don’t you see?
So as I sit and wait for the daily post
The man who drifts in like a ghost
To bring weekly joy from his mailbag
The daily wait is such a drag
But the perfume on the paper I can smell
Just goes down, so very well
Reminds me what I miss so much
Your kisses and your wonderful touch
Sometimes, when I get down, and my mind wanders
Melancholy thoughts abound
Of times together, that may have past
And why I miss you so, when you are not around
So Mr Postman, do your best
Bring me that special message that I need
From my loved one so far away
Today I hope you can get through, Oh yes, Oh yes indeed
He schleps constantly at noon
Through declivities and straight roads,
Bearing messages sealed by the hands
That laid them bare in the first place.
Sweat caresses his face, forming one mass of
Earnestness in every breath of delivery.
“Hello,” he says, “your mail. Your package.”
My palm breathes harder, having neared his.
I sign the delivery paper and reach out for the
Package.
He is fussy with time and gets rewarded when
The Christmas bells chime slowly
From wintry belfries posting blandishments of
Yuletide.
Merry Christmas!
A bright coin rolls into his palms and greases them.
He welcomes titbits of news within crimson cards.
His lungs inhale airs of chaperoned champagnes
Amid the voice of canticles, soft and secret.
Some gates are closed, others are open
I passed them all I lived inside
The postcard views where as a postman
I brought your package every night
Check your emails if there’s a new
Stifting a yawn you find the one
In haste you almost read it through
Replying with a glint of sun
Meanwhile the coffee smells of morning
You open up the garden door
The flowers grow without a warning
As usual, as they did before.
Another hallowed arrow from his quivers
One of cricket’s greatest shiver givers
Coursing down your spine like rivers
Fine line..never dithers as slivers
Of adversaries hopes on the ropes..withers
Tipples tickle our livers
The latest tropes of how
Somehow…anyhow won’t kowtow
Postman Pat delivers
Matinee idol looks tease
Record books hooks please
Finds batters crannies &
Nooks with such ease
Impeccable length…metronomic
Chin music chagrin
Such strength..astronomic
Gift of getting the ball to lift
Chronic bounce…hedonic
With his swag bag of quicks tricks
Name on the adored hall of fame
Lords boards with six..another Cummins elite fix
Beat Bob Willis’s record tome of the best
Test figures for a captain at cricket’s home..
Yep..yet another done like a kipper
By this chipper ripper skipper
Who’s not found wanting
His chiselled jaw..up there for sure
With the mean hardcore
Ponting or Waugh
As the best Test baggie green
Top draw Captain (not woke...just a better bloke) seen on screen
Or that’s maybe ever been
Starts with the morning rise
Breakfast to energize
Head straight to the Post Office
The day begins with sorting the mail
Daily without fail
Preparing to deliver
The creed being neither rain, snow nor sleet
A Postman documentation to keep
No matter what, the mail is always a proceed
Eyes on residence and business
Everyday being the postman’s witness
Mailbox leverage
Mail and packages
Delivery precise
Chased by dogs
Working even in outdoor fog
Day in and out
Deliver mail until done
This is the Postman sound
Back to the Post Office bound
Days end
Same routine the next day once again.
Morning Mr. Postman
Do your thing in bringing my mail
You do with care and without fail
Sometimes mail I need to respond
You always follow through
It’s a daily routine to pursue
You are the king of the neighborhood
You offer candy treats to the kids
They see you like a dad
You one happy Lad
You are true to your responsibility
You show the USPS reality
No matter the weather
You get the mail through
Mr. Postman, you have become the neighborhood’s friend
That’s no pretend
Until then, I will talk to you again.
Postman
I know the postman collects, stores in
jars, his many many bitterness of
tastes.
A postman brought the key
that opened up the morn,
Forty-eight hours after the new king was born.
His queen was but a thought
that would come years beyond,
She would be much younger and a blue-eyed blonde.
The old king would step down,
that crown was for his son;
He'll live for the grandkids 'till his days are done.
There will be many heirs
and each will stand in time,
They'll be looking often at those close behind.
The postman brings letters
every now and then,
Some will request payments, others will find the bin.
Royalty no longer
do make the front page news,
To see them now the back pages you'll peruse.
Their pictures been painted
so many years ago,
Where they're hanging now, nobody seems to know.
This land's a republic,
the monarchy's long gone;
Heirs are now working normal jobs all day long.
Those paintings were noted
and worth a pretty price;
Whoever had found them will be living nice.
The postman retired
long before the king's fall;
Spend his days looking at paintings on his wall.
He left her alone went to work daily,
he worked as a clerk at the old bailey,
but he was gay and loved his boss,
and he did not give her a toss,
cheated on her to carry on gayly!
She knew husband did not love her at all,
she waited for handsome postman to call,
she greeted her love at the door,
she made love to him on the floor,
then several encores in great big hall!
5th placement
Two Limericks- Let’s have some fun poetry contest
Tania Kitchin
Written 01/March/2021
10,10,8, 8,10
10,10, 8,8,10
checked at syllablecount.com
My next-door man was a postman
He stunted gimmicks like Tarzan
I met a constable
And told him my trouble
He said, “I can’t treat your ailment”.
Syllable count: 8, 8, 6, 6, 8 (I used howmanysyllbes.com to count syllables.)
Respect
A postman
His post Man
Don't bite the Postman
Please don't bite the Postman,
With those yellowing canine teeth.
He only wants to deliver our mail,
Not feel your sharp nip beneath.
We've known him now, all these years,
So, shower with kisses and smother,
He only wants to deliver the mail,
Please don't bite him Mother.
He only worked the night shift
The other shifts he was cut adrift
As soon as the sun went down
You could see him prowling the town
In his post office van he picked up the letters
And on the colder nights for the better
He wore a cloak in a flourish around
When he stepped out of truck to the letters bound
His cloak he held it high up to his arm
And he looked above the elbow to project alarm
Gliding over the ground to the letter box
With one foul swoop he emptied the lot
They could never give him a partner
Because they never made it to the shift's end after
He had no next of kin listed on his permanent file
And when off duty he hung from the basement tiles.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Fairy postman
I bring the letter from a
Fairy to give you gifts of
Love
I become a postman to send
Your smile today I am ill tell you
The tale of fairy postman
Durnk like hell write like
Care story of a guy who die
For his love a fairy postman
Bring the love
With love all
Jagdish bajantri
Waiting for the Postman
Florrie stands at the garden gate,
How much longer must she wait?
The Postman was due ages ago
What will he bring today for Flo
Junk mail or a pile of bills
Or a letter from her daughter Jill
Maybe a seed catalogue
Or a letter requesting she sponsor a dog
An offer of a new bank card
Or book-club offers of works by the Bard
Or a parcel from her sister Sally
Now living in the Rhonda Valley
A letter about changing her energy supplier
They promise her a cheaper deal
Then the bills are higher
A spring catalogue from Ann Summers
Or a free sheet advertising plumbers
Oh postman, what is keeping you?
Florrie has better things to do
Than wait and wait and wait and wait
Shivering at the garden gate
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