Short Great Uncle Poems
Short Great Uncle Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Great Uncle by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Great Uncle by length and keyword.
The little racketeer tried to extort
Money from me and my great Uncle Court.
He saw who hit ball.
And said he’d tell all.
We shook him until he agreed to abort.
Hearing of a sitting mouse is as rare as a sock without a hole.
But today we have a knitting mouse, an afghan is her goal.
She has already made one for a fox, a frog and a foal.
This one is for her crotchety great uncle named mean Joel.
Each one cried.
None knew who died.
Aunty!
Some said loudly.
My great-uncle lost,
Said the host;
My son -
A bright sun...
Watched all!
Said: A Fall...!
Birth and death
Depends on the breath
Should one for money mourn?
Born...
Death is a fact known...!
14 December 2022
His blue eyes electric,
so clear through the dark.
They shone so bright,
his baby blue eyes.
Despite his age,
he looked so young.
They shone so bright,
his baby blue eyes.
On his bike,
he was so free.
They shone so bright,
my baby blue eyes.
-Dedicated to my Great Uncle George-
Form:
In Arras field he watched that day
A flash of light against the grey,
High explosives whistled all around
And fallen thousands filled the ground.
Kentish man against the wall,
He had defended to the last;
A fleeting life--
So briefly did it pass.
One of the Lost generation of World War ONE 1918
She dresses spicy with ruffles and satin so bright.
We know she’s here, because the air gets light.
The chiffon on her sleeves are the palest tan.
She dances in high boots, with cutouts that can.
Who is her dressmaker the plain women ask.
She designs herself says her Great Uncle Flask.
He is not always reliable, and a braggart so…
We have no idea if this is the truth, as you know.
His words add splendor to all that’s trite
Just like a tender breeze would do to a
Hot, summer night
Just like mountains are embellished
By golden sunlight
And just like an afternoon sky is colored
By a rainbow or a kite
Ammo: (Arabic) Paternal uncle or great-uncle, or ,more generally, a respectful form of
address to any man of an older generation.
Abu: (Arabic) “Father of”
Anas: An Arabic given name
Put some cloves in orange elf, and inhale away.
Wait! Yelled Orange Elf. Don’t I get some say?
I don’t like my petootsie touched like that.
Or any of my other body parts, that’s a fact!
But he was speaking orangegrovitish which we did not speak.
So we pushed in the cloves hearing only one awful EEEK!
Maybe that hurt him? Suggested our Great Uncle Ed.
Maybe he has dementia, I suggested, a bit off in the head.
At the class reunion everyone gave SP a wide berth.
She came out of nowhere, from the direction of Perth.
She should be in Africa, she’s a total sexpot one said.
SP heard them and her face turned a glorious red.
I’ll have you know I am a grandma, and a wife.
I have had an amazing, adventurous wonderful life.
The women ran off, but the men stayed to visit with her.
She was totally a sexpot said my great Uncle Cur.
Here, where the sky is so close,
the deep shadows of the hill have
taken away our great uncle
A family love,
conciliator,
firm of authority,
Shield of wisdom.
We weep to usher gladness of comfort
Thereafter, we will pray:
Perpetual dew
through the Mercy of God,
that Impeccable care,
Tranquility, glory from Grace,
Love and affection, guardianship
unto our faithful ancestry
Blessedness of Eternal repose
Alav ha-shalom
There was a day in the land of the Scandinavian county of Id
That snow came down all goopy and grainy, and slid
The weirdest part was that it fell not white, but pink.
I remember that day added my Great Uncle Tink.
I stared from him to my grandpa, not knowing what to do.
Hey! I said, was it as pink as the time it came down bright blue?
They grabbed up this tale and added a bunch of other stuff.
Proof that I am a chip off the oldest block, sure enough!
Balancing cat could balance three things on his head.
He was a creature of habit, and so aptly suitablly fed.
I don’t know what he is doing, but I like it said Fred.
Balancing cat dove into a bucket of kibble, his face all red.
Why does he do these things? Asked his great Uncle Ned.
He takes after me, said his fluffy oldster grandpa, Ted.
And me too said his wife, she was a kitten well-fed.
They were a porky crew for sure, said the storyteller named Ed.
Plump, personable, and priggish, she has a propensity for cats.
We call her witch woman for she is followed by vampire bats.
They call out her name, I think it is Personification Per Phats.
I stay away from her broom as she pushes off from Arrowhead Flats.
No one in town runs to put out their plastic welcome mats.
She has a spell book according to my Great Uncle Drats.
Today I saw her riding her broom with a basket full of cats.
They were snarling and growling and kicking those bats.
Anyone not in a pick-up truck at least better have a hound.
If you don’t have a hound, you’d better be carrying a shotgun.
It is ho-down hills days, and we are meeting for our annual barbeque.
Most of the trucks have been out mudding; they are caked.
We award the Mudding King his corndog sandwich with baked beans.
Corn queen comes along with her machete, showing detasseling skills.
Scavenger hunt to look for Great Uncle Jim's dentures begins at nine.
Nothing like an Iowa family reunion.