Forgiven
I found a little beetle; so that Beetle was his name,
And I called him Alexander and he answered just the same.
I put him in a match-box, and I kept him all the day ...
And Nanny let my beetle out -
Yes, Nanny let my beetle out -
She went and let my beetle out -
And Beetle ran away.
She said she didn't mean it, and I never said she did,
She said she wanted matches and she just took off the lid,
She said that she was sorry, but it's difficult to catch
An excited sort of beetle you've mistaken for a match.
She said that she was sorry, and I really mustn't mind,
As there's lots and lots of beetles which she's certain we could find,
If we looked about the garden for the holes where beetles hid -
And we'd get another match-box and write BEETLE on the lid.
We went to all the places which a beetle might be near,
And we made the sort of noises which a beetle likes to hear,
And I saw a kind of something, and I gave a sort of shout:
'A beetle-house and Alexander Beetle coming out!'
It was Alexander Beetle I'm as certain as can be,
And he had a sort of look as if he thought it must be Me,
And he had a sort of look as if he thought he ought to say:
'I'm very very sorry that I tried to run away.'
And Nanny's very sorry too for you-know-what-she-did,
And she's writing ALEXANDER very blackly on the lid,
So Nan and Me are friends, because it's difficult to catch
An excited Alexander you've mistaken for a match.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Hunger
A mole on a cheek is seen
As a beetle among roses
By the one who is sex hungry.
A mole on a cheek is seen
As a beetle in a pudding
By the one who is food hungry.
25.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beetle Time (Fun Poem 29)
I saw a little beetle,
on my way home one day.
“Excuse me Mr Beetle,
would you have the time?
You see I’ve left my watch at home.”
He looked up at me.
“Now let me see.
In the morning,
my shadow is in the west.
At noon,
I have no shadow at all.
In the afternoon,
my shadow is in the east.
Now I would put the time
right now at three o’clock,
because my shadow is north east.”
(2 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers’ Nature
Forever the flowers and soil laugh,
Loveliness created me now
In forms of words and oceans.
The sea of grass manufactures
The mandibles of my beetle.
I am my beetle and I dine
On the heavenly clay.
Such flowers on earth are unequal,
For this time moments are made to me
Like the oceans and lands of sin.
Worst crimes fall in the row
And so ranks-and-files submit
To the flowerbeds, the florets,
And the plants of green leaves.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dream
Once a dream did weave a shade
O’er my Angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.
Troubled, 'wilder'd, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangled spray,
All heart-broke I heard her say:
‘O, my children! do they cry?
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see:
Now return and weep for me.’
Pitying, I dropp'd a tear;
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied: ‘What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?
‘I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle’s hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home.’
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Chariots Of Fire
The small dung beetles lot is a chariot of fire
For some it is a life of a slinking liar,
To get a wife he has to be tall
Fact is some are dam too small.
To get among the hen pecking lot
The big fellow has an easy choice on the spot,
After a hard day’s work rolling up the dung
He’s off home to his wife for dinner and fun.
The little chap dines alone like a single sire
Now for fun he saddles up his chariot of fire,
He rides off to the big guys love nest without any din
Sneaks past him, up to the loft for his wages of sin.
The beetle chick loves him for his gallantry and guts
Gives him love and dung biscuits in his hand she puts,
On his chariot of fire He sneaks off into the night
Silent satisfied disappears out of sight.
NB. FACT
Scientists found this behaviour of the smaller
Beetles and when dissecting them found the
Smaller beetle had bigger testes.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cherry Avenue
And so you meet me
Down at the bar
7th and Cherry
That's where we are
And I promise not to take you down too far
Beetle takes a dollar
Benz will make a drink
Two will see you holler
No one wants to think
And it's que sera sera in black and pink
And so we dance
And my feet get lazy
All the stiffs here
They know I'm crazy for you
And so we dance
And the beat gets lost
And this jealous fool
Will pay the cost for you
On Cherry Avenue
Is this a crime
Or just a clever scheme
I want to make you mine
All your roads are green
And I promise not to show you what I've seen
Now it's closing time
Benz wipes down the bar
Beetle kills the lights
Cherry after dark
song performed by by Melissa Etheridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I took Beetle home thinking that after the Korean War was over, I would have to take him out of the Army. I thought, well, what am I going to do with him?
quote by Mort Walker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saint Maximus at prayer
Sometimes, it’s all humour –
a divine joke shared between gods and men,
a twinkle in the eye of the Creator…
seeing to it, that the man
named Maximus, one day at prayer,
-his eyes were open, for his soul was still -
should notice the smallest beetle
making its way across the open testament,
minding, in its not so tiny mind, its own business…
and in its minimality, the man named Maximus
observed that it had, within its tiny iridescence, being;
watched his mind, learning of its nature;
felt his own being share its life, its spirit, with that little thing;
and understood – the beetle unconcerned, or so
it might appear, within our tiny world –
that in that moment, he had shared
the very nature of the Holy Trinity…
being, nature, living spirit.
Or as the Indians say,
from the Creator we receive
a smile, a message…
Maximal in minimal –
sometimes, it’s all humour.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Win or lose, there's always Huyperian beetle snuff.
A beetle is a beauty in the eyes of his mother.
Every beetle is a gazelle in the eyes of its mother.
In the eyes of its mother every beetle is a gazelle.
When they came to shoe the horse of the sultan, along comes the beetle and sticks out her foot.
emergency
a beetle waves frantically
from the water
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Table And The Chair
Said the Table to the Chair,
'You can hardly be aware
How I suffer from the heat,
And from chilblains on my feet!
If we took a little walk,
We might have a little talk!
Pray let us take the air!'
Said the Table to the Chair.
Said the Chair unto the Table,
'Now you know we are not able!
How foolishly you talk,
When you know we cannot walk!'
Said the Table with a sigh,
'It can do no harm to try;
I've as many legs as you;
Why can't we walk on two?'
So they both went slowly down,
And walked about the town
With a cheerful bumpy sound,
As they toddled round and round.
And everybody cried,
As they hastened to their side,
'See! the Table and the Chair
Have come out to take the air!'
But, in going down an alley
To a castle in the valley,
They completely lost their way,
And wandered all the day
Till, to see them safely back,
They paid a Ducky-quack,
And a Beetle, and a Mouse,
Who took them to their house.
Then they whispered to each other,
'O delightful little brother!
What a lovely walk we've taken!
Let us dine on Beans and Bacon!'
So the Ducky and the leetle
Browny-Mousy and the Beetle
Dined, and danced upon their heads
Till they toddled to their beds.
poem by Edward Lear
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Worm or beetle - drought or tempest - on a farmer's land may fall, Each is loaded full o' ruin, but a mortgage beats 'em all.
quote by Will Carleton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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