Quhen the good-wife is fra hame, the keys are tint.
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Quhen the good-man is fra hame, the board-cloth is tint.
A silly poem about keys
Keys can open doors
they can lock you in
keys on a piano
but not on a Violin.
Keys to a safe
inside a vault
keys lost again
well that's your fault.
Keys on an old typewriter
and on a modern laptop
keys stolen by a thief
to break into a shop.
Keys hang on a keyring
or on a fancy chain
but how on earth can you
dropp them down a drain?
Keys for this and that
a key lying under the mat
having to rush to the Vet
it's been swallowed by the cat.
So I'll end this poem now
and try and get my key
I dropped it down a drain
oh stupid and silly me!
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Piano Bench
sun setting,
...azure tint.
the piano bench empty,
dust gathers on the keys.
the grass damp with dew,
the wind still, and quiet.
the bookshelf sags
with books long ignored.
people walk by without talking,
darkness opens its mouth... swallows.
the lamp forlorn and chilled
waits without hope for a bulb.
nothing to say that can say,
words fall like leaves to the ground.
the room empty haunted by form,
curls up inside it's own hollow.
no fingers to touch the keys!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Aise Hain Anna Hamare...
Khuskismat hain hum sare
mile hame jo Anna Hazare
Sath do milkar duniya walon
Pakar inke Har ek ishaare
Khuskismat hain hum sare
mile hame jo Anna Hazare
Diya hai maa ne ratna hame
Jo sabki aankhon ke hain tare
Desh ki khatir jee rahe jo
Aise hain Annaa hamare
Khuskismat hain hum sare
mile hame jo Anna Hazare
Hoga khatam ab bhrastachar
Anna ki ye har saans Pukare
Swarg sa sunder bane ye desh
khushiyon ke hon har or nazare
Khuskismat hain hum sare
mile hame jo Anna Hazare
Ishwar do sadbudhhi sabko
Karte gunah kyon itne sare
Rukhsat hoge duniya se “deep’’
Hoga na kuch sath tumhare
Khuskismat hain hum sare
mile hame jo Anna Hazare
poem by Deepak Kumar deep
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Quhen Taylours are true, there is little good to shew.
Joey
Joey Keys was from my neighborhood
Some would say that he was bad and Joe thought that was good
Joey got the name "Keys" picking locks
He never really robbed no one; it sure amused the cops
Joey's parents owned a restaurant
After closing time they'd give us almost anything we'd want
I never cared that Joey Keys was slow
Though he couldn't read or write too well but we'd talk all night long.
Come on
song performed by by Bon Jovi from Bounce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where does the violet tint end and the orange tint begins? Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blending enter into the other. So with sanity and insanity.
quote by Herman Melville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are You a Good Husband?
All married men want to be called a good husband
A good husband is a decent husband
Mr. Husband what you done to deserve this decency?
Has your wife ever referred to you as her good husband?
It is known that the eyes cannot see itself
Unless by reflection. Have you ever asked
Your wife for a performance appraisal
Honey, how did I perform last year?
On a scale of one to ten, one for very poor
Ten for excellent, how did I perform?
Your wife may think you are now on new drugs
If you receive less than six, you need to
Start fence mending before it is too late
A good husband sees his wife as his friend
A nice husband treats his wife as his lover
A decent husband regards his wife as a soul-mate
You should anticipate what your wife
Will need before she makes any request
By the way, have you ever bought a gift
For your wife without an occasion?
Do you have to wait for her birthday?
To inform her that she is very special to you?
Do you have to wait for your wedding anniversary?
To tell her that she is the best thing in your life
When last did you talk to your wife in-laws?
When last did you visit your wife in-laws?
What have you done to be called a good husband?
Ask for performance appraisal on a regular basis
Remember, if you make your wife happy
You will get happiness in return
poem by Julius Babarinsa
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The Wife Of Usher's Well
There lived a wife at Usher's Well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And sent them oer the sea,
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely ane,
When word came to the carline wife
That her three sons were gane.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely three,
Whan word came to the carlin wife
That her sons she'd never see.
'I wish the wind may never cease,
Nor fashes in the flood,
Till my three sons come hame to me,
In earthly flesh and blood!'
It fell about the Martinmass,
Whan nights are lang and mirk,
The carline wife's three sons came hame,
And their hats were o the birk.
It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o Paradise
That birk grew fair eneugh.
* * * * *
'Blow up the fire, my maidens!
Bring water from the well;
For a' my house shall feast this night,
Since my three sons are well.'
And she has made to them a bed,
She's made it large and wide;
And she's taen her mantle her about,
Sat down at the bedside.
* * * * *
Up then crew the red, red cock,
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
''Tis time we were away.'
The cock he hadna crawd but once,
And clapp'd his wings at a',
Whan the youngest to the eldest said,
'Brother, we must awa.
'The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
The channerin worm doth chide;
Gin we be mist out o our place,
A sair pain we maun bide.
'Fare ye weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre!
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass
That kindles my mother's fire!'
poem by Andrew Lang
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I Am The Only One With THESE Keys
The first question I would ask,
Of anyone expressing a wish to drive...
Through life without dues to pay.
With only desire in their eyes.
And a request from me to give them my keys,
Is this...
What makes anyone think I will turn over keys,
To something I have earned...
Because the doing of it I have made to look easy?
I've got to witness some sweat with labor done first.
With initiative that has been prioritized.
Life is not a cakewalk...
To choose what frosting to taste to then decide.
'You are not the only one with keys.'
That's true.
But guess what?
I am the only one with THESE keys.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When Flora had O'erfret the Firth
QUHEN Flora had o'erfret the firth
In May of every moneth queen;
Quhen merle and mavis singis with mirth
Sweet melling in the shawis sheen;
Quhen all luvaris rejoicit bene
And most desirous of their prey,
I heard a lusty luvar mene
—'I luve, but I dare nocht assay!'
'Strong are the pains I daily prove,
But yet with patience I sustene,
I am so fetterit with the luve
Only of my lady sheen,
Quhilk for her beauty micht be queen,
Nature so craftily alway
Has done depaint that sweet serene:
—Quhom I luve I dare nocht assay.
'She is so bricht of hyd and hue,
I luve but her alone, I ween;
Is none her luve that may eschew,
That blinkis of that dulce amene;
So comely cleir are her twa een
That she mae luvaris dois affray
Than ever of Greece did fair Helene:
—Quhom I luve I dare nocht assay!'
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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The Wife of Usher's Well
THERE lived a wife at Usher's well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And sent them o'er the sea.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely ane,
When word came to the carline wife
That her three sons were gane.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely three,
When word came to the carline wife
That her sons she'd never see.
'I wish the wind may never cease.
Nor fashes in the flood,
Till my three sons come hame to me,
In earthly flesh and blood!'
It fell about the Martinmas,
When nights are lang and mirk,
The carline wife's three sons came hame,
And their hats were o' the birk.
It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o' Paradise
That birk grew fair eneugh.
'Blow up the fire, my maidens!
Bring water from the well!
For a' my house shall feast this night,
Since my three sons are well.'
And she has made to them a bed,
She 's made it large and wide;
And she 's ta'en her mantle her about,
Sat down at the bedside.
Up then crew the red, red cock,
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said.
''Tis time we were away.'
The cock he hadna craw'd but once,
And clapp'd his wings at a',
When the youngest to the eldest said,
'Brother, we must awa'.
'The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
The channerin' worm doth chide;
Gin we be miss'd out o' our place,
A sair pain we maun bide.'
'Lie still, lie still but a little wee while,
Lie still but if we may;
Gin my mother should miss us when she wakes,
She'll go mad ere it be day.'
'Fare ye weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre!
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass
That kindles my mother's fire!'
Tamanna(wish)
TAMANNA YE AANSU HUM PITE TO JARUR HAI
LEKIN USKA SHUKRIYA KARNA KABHI NA BHULTE HAI
MALIK HAI VO JAISA CHAHE VAISA RAKHE
HAME SIRF DUA MANGNA HAI KI VO HAME DEKHE
WE SUFFER AGONY AND PAIN WITH TEARS
BUT ALWAYS THANK ALMIGHTY FOR GRACE
HE MAY KEEP US IN ANY CONDITION AS SAVIOR AND PROTECTOR
WE CAN ONLY ASK FOR MERCY AND BLESSINGS
NAHI KOI FARIYAD KARNI HAI AUR NAHI KOI SHIKAYAT
BUS NAJRE KAYAM RAHE AUR MILTI RAHE INNAYAT
JO USE DENA HAI VO BINA MANGE HI DE DEGA
BAKI BURE KARMO KA JAWAB TO HAME HI DENA PADEGA
NOTHING TO COMPLAINOR NOTHING TO PRESENT
ONLY PRAYER FOR BLESSINGS AND GRACE
HE MAY GIVE IT EVEN WITHOUT ASKING
WE NEED TO ANSWER FOR THE ILLS COMMITED
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Impetuous Resolve
When little Dickie Swope's a man,
He's go' to be a Sailor;
An' little Hamey Tincher, he's
A-go' to be a Tailor:
Bud Mitchell, he's a-go' to be
A stylish Carriage-Maker;
An' when _I_ grow a grea'-big man,
I'm go' to be a Baker!
An' Dick'll buy his sailor-suit
O' Hame; and Hame'll take it
An' buy as fine a double-rigg
As ever Bud can make it:
An' nen all three'll drive roun' fer me
An' we'll drive off togevver,
A-slingin' pie-crust 'long the road
Ferever an' ferever!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Flora had O'erfret the Firth
QUHEN Flora had o'erfret the firth
In May of every moneth queen;
Quhen merle and mavis singis with mirth
Sweet melling in the shawis sheen;
Quhen all luvaris rejoicit bene
And most desirous of their prey,
I heard a lusty luvar mene
--'I luve, but I dare nocht assay!'
'Strong are the pains I daily prove,
But yet with patience I sustene,
I am so fetterit with the luve
Only of my lady sheen,
Quhilk for her beauty micht be queen,
Nature so craftily alway
Has done depaint that sweet serene:
--Quhom I luve I dare nocht assay.
'She is so bricht of hyd and hue,
I luve but her alone, I ween;
Is none her luve that may eschew,
That blinkis of that dulce amene;
So comely cleir are her twa een
That she mae luvaris dois affray
Than ever of Greece did fair Helene:
--Quhom I luve I dare nocht assay!'
4. Put Safely Away
Where has my wife put the car keys
I left at the side of my bed
She whisked them away in my sleeping
To put away safely she said
Stored away safely from burglars
Should one maybe call in the night
Hidden where no one could find them
Covered up well out of sight
She’s never been one for remembering
Things seem to slip right from her mind
Then turn up a year or two later
In places that no one could find
Time slips by fast in an like an instant
The summer’s sun turns into frost
She still stores away things for safety
But the car keys are listed as lost
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Given The Keys
If given the keys to unlock,
A flowing of bestowed opportunities...
Is not believed to be the responsibility kept,
By the ones handed those keys...
Who can not accept,
That the action done was precious?
And they lose the keys kept with no sense,
That reflects an appreciation...
But just an expression of a thoughtlessness?
Why bother to give someone like this,
Time to make excuses?
Or address their foolishness, period!
'Back this thing up,
And get me outta here! '
I thought you said,
You were going to leave them...
With another set of keys?
'Maybe you didn't 'get it'...
But that's what they were anticipating I would do.
And I had a change of priorities,
The moment I was given a look of impatience.
Let's go!
Enough time has been wasted here.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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