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Rebecca Beirne Poem
Those bestowed upon them wealth, so much there is to do,
For the sick and down are crying out for us to do our part,
Impart your desirable fortunes and grant wishes to come true.
Dying children wishing, trusting you’ll come through,
To depart the angels of suffering from the afflicted heart,
Those bestowed upon them wealth, so much there is to do.
Loving St. Jude of those in need rests his faith upon you,
For giving of what you treasure most is truly a work of art,
Impart your desirable fortunes and grant wishes to come true.
Restoring smiles to those once shamed, grant children start anew,
For bringing joy to those who grieve from others sets you apart,
Those bestowed upon them wealth, so much there is to do.
Abundant are those with plentiful hopes, their needs are but a few,
So give of what’s been given you, afford others make a new start,
Impart your desirable fortunes and grant wishes to come true
Of earthly treasures a miser not be for in death it goes not with you,
Give to the needy your treasured gifts before death they do depart.
Those bestowed upon them wealth, so much there is to do,
Impart your desirable fortunes and grant wishes to come true
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
Sunset,
One of nature's most brilliant
display of colors.
The time before darkness
when the sky has lost the sun
but has yet to find the stars.
When the sky becomes
God's canvas freely painted with
brush strokes of yellow red and gold.
As the brilliant light of day
begins to fade into the night,
the sun relaxes and prepares
to sleep knowing darkness waits.
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
ELAINE’S LIMMERICK
Let me tell you of my sister-in-law Elaine
Whose breasts drive most males insane
With her size double D’s
They bring men to their knees
Her name’s in the breast hall of fame
She says being big busted like me
Is not all it’s cracked up to be
She says in frustration
Try and hold a conversation
When there’s only two things a guy sees
But although she is much well endowed
Of her breasts she is so very proud
She tailors them cute
In their double D suits
To make them stand out in a crowd
Her breasts they are not a disgrace
Even though they won’t stay in one place
They wiggle they wobble
And sometimes they gobble
And unsaddled they fall to her waist
Recalling her lactating years
Monstrous they brought her to tears
Like torpedoes they fell
To her lap they did swell
Her son cried, “Mom I can't nurse from down here!”
When her milk came she thought she’d implode
Then like volcanoes they both would explode
She’d bind them real tight
They put up quite a fight
Till she cried, “No more can I carry this load”
At the lake when she jumps off the boat
A life vest she’s no need to tote
For she bobs up and down
Impossible to drown
Like buoys they keep her afloat
To enlarge them women pay a big fee
To, say a thirty-six C, D or E
But hers are quite natural
She can use them as collateral
And they didn’t even cost her a penny
She has memories of breasts standing high
Neither one was the least bit shy
But gravity has taken its tow
For they now sit quite low
But with underwire she can make them look spry
They're so big that to some they look wrong
But she can bounce them to the beat of a song
They're no longer high and round
They're like two sagging mounds
Because she's now a size Double D long
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
When the storm hit our town of Old Soling
It brought with it thunder a rolling.
My son said don’t fear,
As the angels are near
Because once again God must be bowling
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
Clowns
falsely smiling
with painted faces,
happy outside, but inside
sad
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
Bottle Nosed Dolphins
So powerful, yet graceful
Lifeguards of the sea
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
There once was a man named Ike
Who smoked porks to everyone’s like
They were the best in town
Creating orders abound
Till all pigs decided to strike
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
Anxiety
All consuming
Pounding, quickening pulse
Suffocating your every breath
Panic
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
Why is God a Man?
Being a menopausal woman really sucks. At night, it’s like having a wrestler in bed with you
without the sex. When you flash you wrestle the covers off because you feel like you’re going
to spontaneously combust. When the flash is over you wrestle them back on since you’ve
gone from sweating profusely to the ice queen. And what is sleep? I used to remember,
but it’s been so long that I’m going back to school to re-learn how.
And why the heck do they call it menopause? It has nothing to do with men. Oh sure, men
have to put up with we suicidal women when we’re going through this so called “natural
progression of aging” but, during this time it’s the men who pause and say, ” My wife has lost
her mind. She's frantically running around the house begging me to throw ice water on her
before she bursts into flames.”
After all, During menopause, everything dries up (and I mean that literally). It’s like
someone took a wet vac and sucked all the moisture out of our skin, hair and other
unmentionable places. And as far as sex is concerned, KY Jelly becomes your best friend, for
without it there’s just no getting in. And what is a sex drive? We wish we could remember,
but our minds are drying up too. Oh, I remember now. It’s all about the drive. That is,
driving to the mall to go shopping. Now that’s a turn on. After all, who wants to have sex with
a dried up woman’s body whose parts have all gone south? I guess that explains why we’re
hot all the time. When our parts go south our body gets hotter. It’s like your body’s in Florida
without living there. We do take small trips up north when the flashes subside, but
unfortunately our body parts don’t.
We try to workout, but someone needs to come up with a workout with minimal effort as the
slightest movement causes us to pee ourselves. So if you want to make the most of your
workout, go buy Depends. You still pee, but they keep you dry along with your skin and hair.
Oh, and did I mention the bouts of uncontrollable crying? Your husband asks you why you’re
crying and you tell him it’s all his fault because he’s going about his merry way while you’re
slowly going insane. They can't empathize when they have no freaking idea what’s going
on!!
So I’ve come to the conclusion that all women who make it through menopause have earned
their place in heaven because they’ve already lived through hell on earth. To all my
menopausal women friends out there. . . .
THIS IS WHY GOD IS A MAN!
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2009
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Rebecca Beirne Poem
When weighty Wanda
Discussed her dreadful diet
She sarcastically said
Easy! I eat everything I eyeball
Copyright © Rebecca Beirne | Year Posted 2007
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