Short Spats Poems

welcome to lim’rik flats
where boys wear only spats
it's in a valley
called nonsense alley
(psst... they also wear hats)...

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A spendthrift lady in New Orleans
clothed her wolfhound beyond her means
But he despised his top hats
and old-fashioned spats
Now he sports tie-died T-shirts and jeans...

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Apologies aren't easy, not everyone's blessed
The ability to say sorry, to forgive and forget
Makes life more happy
Though spats can be nasty
Remember the love and then you caress...

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Apologies aren't easy, not everyone's blessed
The ability to say sorry, to forgive and forget
Makes life more happy
Though spats can be nasty
If apologies follow and you lovingly caress... awww!...

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Haberdasher’s Thoughts


The haberdasher has
that season of the year
he rids his racks, his bins
of oddments.
I have no season of the year
like that. 
Today, or any day, a derby, 
spats or chrome-tipped cane
can shuffle out from stock.
I have no choice. 
I have to offer counter space.


Donal Mahoney...

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There once was a couple of brats
who engaged in continuous spats.
The result was a tie
when each scratched out an eye -
an old-Biblical tit for a tat!

The brats awoke bleeding and weak
when, half-seeing the havoc they’d wreaked,
they discarded their clothes,
their behinds to expose -
a new-Biblical turning of cheek!...

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Pulling chairs and holding doors
are gestures of respect
I cling to reverentially,
emotion, that beggars intellect.
 
In times long gone I'd doff my hat
and dress in spats and bow-tie
to woo a damsel with dispatch,
a wink, a nod, to catch her eye.
 
Nowadays, old-fashioned graces
often meet with glares askance,
with worried and suspicious faces
I don't get a second glance!...

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Pulling chairs and holding doors 
are gestures of respect 
I cling to reverentially, 
actions that o'ershadow intellect. 

In times long gone I'd doff my hat 
and dress in spats and bow-tie 
to woo a damsel with dispatch, 
a wink, a nod, to catch her eye. 

Nowadays, old-fashioned graces 
often meet with glares askance, 
with worried and suspicious faces 
I don't get a second glance....

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Three sisters we are but sometimes a little far from the the bond we should share.
          Pam is the oldest Julie is the middle and Theresa which is me the youngest sisterl 
            We all have had our spits and spats but my love never faded because of that.
                Maybe some anger and hurt along the way but just so you know,
                         Three Sisters we will stay....

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Reach to go the extra long mile.
It takes so much effort with trials.
On some days Satan tries to beguile

Quick!  simplify your class. 

As aging problems increase pains.
Going the extra mile remains
Causing friction once more again

Complaints_ those spats amass.

As the end of life here, slows down.
Live life's joy, wear the old age's crown.
Everyday move forward, don't drown.

Extra miles_ pearls not glass!



...

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Unicorns and leprechauns
Uniforms and spectra dawns
Unidogs and unicats
Unimen wearing shiny spats.

Unicorns and leprechauns
Whirling, twirling and dancing on.
Unihorses and unipigs.
Gaily wearing parliament wigs.

Unicorns and leprechauns
March is here, February gone.
Uniwomen and unigirls
Wearing green with all the frills.

Unicorns and leprechauns
Let’s all put our Irish on.
No one Irish the rest of the year,
But everyone Irish  in this parade  here....

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