Well Timed Poems | Examples

And The Cat Crept In

Motion-activated caught on camera
while cookies for the kids I was cooking
a collared cat crept into the kitchen
when I stepped outside and wasn't looking
his potty break was well-timed
as, sadly, I'd left the door unlocked
onto the counter by the sink he climbed
bared his butt and crapped in the crock
tho' he gave new meaning
to vanilla chocolate chip
if I ever collar him doing it again
his mangy tail end I'll severely whip
as, if he wants nine lives to live
he'd really best think twice
or he'll sleep with the fishes
(not eat them)
as such behaviour is just not nice

It's Spelled Spelt, Split and Wholesome

We wanted to break bread
that was pure, clean, pristine, 
stark white and wholesome,
with a crisp, but soft, 
light brown crust.

The field was prepared with
thrice washed and cleaned machinery,
and spread with N, P,  K fertilizer
applied overhead.

The soils was filtered to remove
all weeds, sticks and stones,
stubble and rubble,
so it was homogeneous,
with a uniform grain size,

The wheat seed was a proven, 
ancient old world genotype,
with its genome still intact.

The seed was milled to remove
all traces of wheat germ and bran,
then twice bleached to stark white.

The dough was leavened with soda
and baked well-timed, 
in a clean fan-draft oven,
at just the right temperature,
for just the right time.

Behold! There we have it!
Our pure white bread,
wholesome and perfect,
in every way, that we break
for breakfast at break of day.

Hoping You'll Choose Me

Our names always rhymed,
Our reconnection well-timed.
Hoping you'll have me
As the one who sets you free,
The one you'll love divinely.

Lucy, I'm home!

Her name is, Lucy 
Her twin is Ricky
He is green with Envy
Because I’ve left him behind 

There’s no ‘splainin’ to do
Nothing more to pursue 
I just simply knew
All I could do was sigh

She purrs like a kitten 
I was totally smitten 
When my eyes 
First upon her 
Did lie

My thoughts preoccupied
By my diamond in the sky
Our twin stars aligned
Hers and mine
This union well-timed

We’ll ride the highlands and the low
Oh the places we’ll go
The curves and the bends
Wherever life sends
Us
To venture with flair and gusto 

Together as one
At once I’m undone
I love Lucy
No more to see
Or say

Critterature: A Prickly Situation

Old joke: How do porkypines mate? Very carefully.


The porcupine's a modest
And mostly solitary beast,
Akin to capybara and to beaver,
Though in size he is the least.
He rarely gets invited
To a bar-b-que or feast,
But long as he's not on the menu,
He doesn't mind it in the least.

He'll never write his memoirs,
Although of stories there's no lack,
But penmanship's beyond him,
He just doesn't have the knack.
And though he ports around a vast array
Of sharpened quills upon his back,
There's not one that's fit for writing
In all the clicking, clacking pack.

When "she" sends forth her pheromones,
And "he" rises to the bait,
Safe sex is uppermost in mind
As he advances to the plate.
His approach must be well-timed, precise,
Lest she shish-kabob her mate.
If it's not done right the first time…
There won't be a second date.

Silent Love Notes

Within soil's silent phrases
love would love to find flesh
hearing what Earth repeated
timelessly amused again
with pregnant pauses

You know how touching feels
yet can't articulate sacred Mother's mantra
resonating octaves
of radiantly colored energy
empowering pitch
scale
shape

Sighted sounds
resounding sacred calculations,
masculine 1-sums
sniffing feminist 0-souls
with erect respect

Sacred views
unvoiced full spectral choice
profound
elegant
exquisite
intimately intricate
imaginations

Wise as ancient integrity
absorbs what hypocrisy divides
from Earth's well-timed warming powers
to inhale Sun's silent,
yet full sighted, light
rediscovering sounds
for soulful silenced
power

In between
silent phases
phrases
of Earth's moon
and tidal seas
and seasons
passion needs to feel us
deeply listening

Widely learning 
what and why and when
Earth repeats Her fractal
timeless fractures
fusing sensory beats

Repeating 
musing wisdom circles,
dancing spirals
fusing echoing silence
musing one timeless rest 
not not noted
pregnantly again.

The Poet

There lived this kind, gentle poet who rhymed
Her verses and jingles were so well-timed
Then she tried simple free verse
Lines that would’ve made saints curse
Poetry formed with writing so mistimed

Time Captured

A well timed hamlet
ponders the evening sky
A graveyard still with silence
The hillside sinks slowly from view
Glaring clouds are driven
A procession of geese evades capture

The bluish cave
where the dying leaves blow
Great things are expected
As Autumn purges mindful things
Moistfull succuring 
Time recalls  the sad  waters
lapping by lost villages

Humorists

‘Tis no less the poet who writes of the frivolous
Josh Billings and Ogden Nash come to mind,
But, we have some at the Soup quite humorous
A quick survey of new poems and you’ll find
That folks like Gershon Wolf and Terry Flood
Know how to turn a wicked phrase, by golly,
Along with Jack Ellison and Maurice Rigoler --
These guys know the meaning of sheer folly!
They tickle our fancy and elicit our laughter
With well-timed jokes, puns, and explanation
Of things we will remember for long hereafter
As vital additions to our store of information.
My day isn’t complete without a dose of Caren
Fantasies and musings always worth sharin’.
So, check out their poems, couplets, and such
For if you do not you’ll be missing so much! 


Written July 17, 2022

Divortium-Mom and Dad, Dad and Mom

Mom and Dad, Dad and Mom
So opposed in their roles, yet unified in their wants.
It's a bitter shame to be old and grey,
Look back at the longest commitment, the largest role in the stage of life,
Marriage and being a spouse, kids and mortgages
And have nothing good to say about it.

Till your spouse's signature takes up one half of the ‘sign here’ box at the end of your divorce papers.
You look at the comforting curvature of their initials, the hurried ink.
One you've seen a thousand times, this time the last name isn't yours.
And words rush into your throat, gratitude chokes you up. 
Thank you.
even though I couldn't think of one good thing to say about you a few days ago and wont find a single compliment to give years from now if you held a gun to my head, 
I'm glad we ran this Act through.
 
This scene concludes, the epilogue ends.
The velvet drapes fall like well timed snow,
Soft and punctual.
You take a step back, sigh in relief.
Hear the muted applause,
Guilty yet absolved.
Hand in unlovable hand.
Dad and Mom. Mom and Dad.

Pups Land On Moon Nursery Rhyme

PUPS LAND ON MOON ~ Nursery Rhyme

Two little pups called Sam and Sue
Wanted adventure, to try something new,
Why don’t we go to the moon,
They had seen it in a cartoon
Lets go today, 
But its so far away,
Jumped into their dad’s spaceship
Its moon or bust, what a trip.
They saw strange things floating outside,
All part of their ride
We are landing said Sam
Fasten your seat belt Sue, wham!
They stepped outside, first pups
To land on moon, 
Reporters would write very soon.
Wow a space mobile,
Sam the man took the wheel,
They collected rocks and sand
To take back to Earth land,
Sue started crying, I’m scared,
I want my mummy she blared.
Back on the spaceship they climbed
So well timed,
They arrived with a bump
And a loud thump!
Their mummy and daddy gave them a hug,
And dad gave Sam’s ear a tug.
Don’t ever do that in a hurry
Again, you had us in such a flurry,
They were sorry and promised to be good,
And slept as two pups should, 
Mum put on their night light, 
Kissed them, and tucked them in tight!


Contest entry : Nursery Rhyme Contest
Sponsor; Eve Roper
Date: 2021/03/09

Therapy Stroll

Between the fields of corn, they walked
Beneath bright sun and clear blue sky
Like many times before, they talked
Of their hardships, hurts, or days gone by

Similar circumstance, and mutual understanding
Indeed, their worlds were like two parallel lines 
The stroll was therapeutic, a well-timed blessing
An airing out of both hearts and minds

There are times in life, where you need a friend 
And not just any old friend will do
It's the cherished ones, on whom you can depend 
That are forever trusted, tried and true

October 12, 2020
@katladyt_

Last Look Back

pain ...
the blood of her pen
a harlequin's hope ...
the thrum in her breast and being
no quarter given the issue of her barren womb
she looked back one last time
on the darkened house ...
things and thoughts and threadbare attentions
the labor of her love ... the love of her labor
that structure that had meant everything ...
now, but a cold castle ...
a lifetime of sacrifice and dedication ... and fear
perspectives meant for panic
placed pointedly at her fair feet
with threats and a well-timed backhand
(she gently poked the bruise on her cheek ... her reality)
children were the bond, the cement, the guarantee
but it had been a feigned promise only
his intent was ever the opposite
she saw that now ... clearly
the ruin no longer mattered
the lies, the humiliation, the endless attempts
to be the 'good wife' at all costs
mattered not ... not anymore ...
her eyes left the rear-view mirror in a silent pledge
never again ...
NOW was all she cared about
now, and the dream ...
of tomorrow.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "Strand Completely New 13, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

Blues In White

*Image of Walks Warns by Wage.com.

Blues In White

Dressed in white, she looked so refined,
Then I got a text, from who, was undefined,
Message opened eyes, and was well timed,
As I searched the vacuums of my mind,
An emptied cranium is all I would find,
'Tis words to spew as I have an axe to grind,
Of a sordid brief affair where love was blind,
As lies beget lies, for she was one of a kind,
For she had a lover, though she declined,
Says she loved me in soft repeats, to remind,
But at that point, I was far too resigned,
My vagrant mouth said words that maligned,
Every name in the book, for I was unkind,
Then I took a breath, so that I would unwind,
Laid my ring on a book, that was left unsigned,
As she stood by the altar, leaving her behind,
For 'twas our wedding day, I have just outlined.

2019 May 20
*1st Place*
A BRIAN STRAND 1091
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 March 18

The Day I Said Goodbye

The day I said goodbye
             Sympathetic raindrops cried
Or was it just my tears
          That I sensed and tried to hide

The day I said goodbye
     Apprehensive church bells chimed
Or was that just my heart
        Contemplating plans well timed

Was it just illusion
          Flashing signs bidding farewell
Chanting windshield wipers 
    Good luck, good luck, they enspell

As I faced my journey
              Jubilant, though with a sigh
Bittersweet, my feelings
               For the day I said goodbye

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