Short Eighty Seven Poems

And then all at once someone
could see just how tired I was …...

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Then,free to be,without measure
tht day,made me a special treasure
Mal 3:17...

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At eighty-seven well past my prime
Can you believe it no long can rhyme
Even Shelly and Keats
Have hung up their cleats
Each had hoped for a life more sublime...

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Nineteen eighty-seven one hundred and fifty-six children....
Perished upon flight two fifty-five less one baby girl of whom
Heaven's hand had covered a moment in time her, Sole surviver....

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Thyacine
Tasmanian tiger
Tasmanian wolf

carnivorous marsupial
kept young in pouch
native to Australia, Tasmania, New Guinea

Thyacine is to Australia
What Sasquatch is to North America
Been sighted but not recently penned or captured

Sasquatch might be a myth
Thyacine only went extinct eighty-seven years ago
in 1936...

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SHE DIDN’T KNOW

Mum cooked me a hearty breakfast, with bacon fried in lard.
She said I ought to grease my chest, 
For winter mornings could be hard.
Cholesterol wasn’t invented till nineteen eighty seven
So she didn’t know she was hastening 
My entry into heaven

7th June 2021
Bite Size Poem No 5 contest
Sponsor - Line Gauthier...

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Mother is eighty-seven now
still spry, sometimes naughty,
espousing wisdom from her brow,
her speech never bawdy.

She always dried my tears,
She always calmed my fears,
She always cleaned up smears.

Softly sing a lullaby,
Mother will be leaving nye.


For: QUIETUS (Jan 2022 edition) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Syllable count checked at SyllableCounter.net
January 25, 2022...

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Can't be nineteen ninety-nine
or fourteen forty-five
had to end in fifty
to keep the quarter alive!

Oh, that lowly penny
a nuisance to be sure
lately out of favor
and its easy to see why
has to end in fifty
to make a simple buy.

Twenty-nine eighty seven
too much to figure out ...
has to end in fifty
of that there is no doubt.


                      Inspiration & title taken from Philip Roth's "Everyman"...

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Today's Jack's birthday he's eighty seven
He's not yet ready to go to heaven
Has a positive outlook
Writes funnies, go take a look
Hope his contributions never lessen.

He's the limerick King who wears the crown
Always smiling and never wears a frown
With the girls he's a big hit
And flirts just a little bit
Hope his day's bright until the sun goes down.

Have a happy 87th birthday Jack.


Written 11th August 2022....

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At my very advanced age
This is my world
At my advanced age of eighty-seven
My life has been A+++
How many of you can attest
To that very bold statement
One of the very fortunate ones I'm sure
Not everyone has this luxury
Some have had a much less happy life
For whatever reason
Their life has been a succession
Of  tragedies and unhappy events
I feel sadness for these souls
Perhaps there are better times ahead
Perhaps......

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INDECISION

He fell in love when he met her
In nineteen eighty seven
But didn’t get round to telling her 
Till June of twenty-eleven
He’d drunk some double whiskeys,
Followed up with gin,
Then turned up on her doorstep,
Begging to be let in.
He told her how he loved her,
He got down on one knee.
She told him he’d left it too long
For she’d wed in ninety-three.

8th June 2021
Lipogram contest - No A
Sponsor - Emile Pinet...

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Born on a Wednesday at one two eleven, 
what a fine year, nineteen eighty seven.

Ears painted on to handsome framed face, 
you cruise through this world at a lightening pace. 

Bangs on your bass raise temparaChurz, tempo so natural all emotions are stirred 

Such soft angel lashes, as hard as they come, 
your rhythm is instinct, like the beat of your drum.

Singing sweet soaring no fret left undone, 
I can only be talking ‘bout you my cool Son....

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You died twenty years ago today.
On February 7, 1998, you passed away.
You were born in 1910 and died at the age of eighty-seven.
Twenty years ago, you left this Earth and went to Heaven.

You became a widower in 1957 and had your kids to finish raising.
You finished raising your kids by yourself and that was amazing.
When you died, it was something that I hated.
You were my Papaw and you were appreciated.

(Dedicated to Burkette Greene who died on February 7, 1998.)...

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