Related quotes: Mum's bit of egg money...

The Broken-Teapot

Mum's bit of egg money on the mantelpiece
In the broken teapot in the olden days,
Hardly earned and hoarded there,
Much content afforded there
Long before inspectors came and bureaucratic ways.
But science by the barn-door rules the farmer's lot
And Mum's bit of egg-money dwindles in the pot.

Ever since the first years this was mother's perquisite,
Eggs daily gathered by the old barn door,
From the stable gathered in,
From the shed and fodder bin,
Carted in and traded at the small town store;
Gathered from the wayward hen laying far afield
As the new-cleared acres gave their golden yield.

Long it was a stand-by while the kids were little ones
Mum's broken teapot resting on the shelf
Some print to make a dress for Lil,
Sunday boots for Joe and Bill,
A loan to Dad and, now and then, a trifle for herself:
Growing heavy Christmas time by dint of watchful thrift
To buy a little Christmas cheer and here and there a gift.

But Mum's bit of egg-money grows a thing of history,
And Mum's broken teapot an heirloom now indeed,
Since Science ousts the picturesque;
And Dad has bought an office desk
To puzzle o'er official rules and size and weight and breed.
But Mum is brooding darkly o'er the forbidden egg,
Which, like a furtive gangsteress, she threatens to bootleg.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

A Chocolate Teapot

I wanted a chocolate tea-pot
As a gift for a good friend’s birth-day
But I did feel a bit of a clot
Searching for this on e-Bay

I found a chocolate giraffe
And a chocolate kangaroo
But they wouldn’t give her the laugh
That a chocolate teapot would do

I decided to make one myself
And bought a huge Galaxy slab
Very bad for the general health
But for my plan was perfectly fab

I fashioned it into a pot
Melting it using some heat
Using kettle and water so hot
It really was quite a feat

This teapot I have to confess
Had lumps for handle and spout
And although I got in a mess
Was happy the way it turned out

My friend sent a note in blue ink
“My teapot is fab, may I say....
It wasn’t as useless as most people think
I scoffed the lot in one day! ”

poem by Victoria George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

An Old Barn By The Side Of The Fields Of Hay

an old barn by the side of the fields of hay
is nothing but an old barn to your eyes
miguelito
this barn has been here ten years ago and it will be here
for another more years with you

father always
had it repaired before he died and when i take charge
i still come here and think once in a while
what is in this barn
that refuses to be broken
something that negates
the art of losing

it is the memory of my youth
it was here where the hay smelt pungent
for the first time

it was here when i was first
deflowered

changed

don't laugh, it was here that i felt
the first squirt of
my manhood, and her name was not that important
in fact,
she was laughing because i was trembling and she was
so crazy

trying to really teach me, in this old barn that refuses to be broken
in all the years
when our father teased us: weaklings.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Father Christmas

When I was small I believed in santa claus
Though I knew it was my dad
And I would hang up my stocking at christmas
Open my presents and Id be glad
But the last time I played father christmas
I stood outside a department store
A gang of kids came over and mugged me
And knocked my reindeer to the floor
They said:
Father christmas, give us some money
Dont mess around with those silly toys.
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
We want your bread so dont make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
Dont give my brother a steve austin outfit
Dont give my sister a cuddly toy
We dont want a jigsaw or monopoly money
We only want the real mccoy
Father christmas, give us some money
Well beat you up if you make us annoyed
Father christmas, give us some money
Dont mess around with those silly toys
But give my daddy a job cause he needs one
Hes got lots of mouths to feed
But if youve got one, Ill have a machine gun
So I can scare all the kids down the street
Father christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
Have yourself a merry merry christmas
Have yourself a good time
But remember the kids who got nothin
While youre drinkin down your wine
Father christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
We want your bread, so dont make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Everyone Will Feel Pinched By a Grinch On the Loose

Everyone will feel pinched.
By a grinch on the loose.
This festive holiday season...
Has a sputtering train on the tracks.
With barely an engine!
And no caboose.

No champagne to sip.
Or horse radish with bacon dip.
Don't light up that Christmas Tree...
Unless you have gas,
Instead of electricity to heat.

Take the turkey out of the freezer,
With other leftovers from Thanksgiving Day.
Share this with your neighbors.
The ones still living near...
And haven't moved away.

Buy a box of crayons...
And color some brown paper bags!
Find something you will not have to offer,
To sell at a tag sale.
Like a teapot.
And not a sofa you have to drag.

Wrapped 'whatever' it is and tape it.
Take pictures of this!
Since this Christmas just may be...
The best one you've had!
Maybe not one you'll wish to reminisce.

'Be glad for what you've got!
You kids think money...grows on trees.'
My mom use to say.
And I began to pray,
For that to happen one day.

But today,
This is the reality...
The thought of eating fresh picked leaves,
May not be too far away!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Nordic Christmas Story

I bought boots for Christmas to tread the icy plains.
I bought toys for Christmas with Santas in my trains.
I lit my home for Christmas with a Cedar bright.
I made cup cakes for Christmas for my love's delight.
I bought Jane a dress for Christmas with ribbons pink.
I bought for my grandma a cozy Christmas mink.
I bought for Jill two amazing Christmas Sparrows.
I bought for Jack a toy quiver full of arrows.
I bought an Elk for Christmas with nose giving light.
I bought for Christmas, candles for a solemn night.
I made for Christmas a warm and sweet lemonade,
and I sang on Christmas morn, a sweet Serenade.

poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (18 December 2020)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
Vote! | Copy!

I Wish You Would't Bury Me On Christmas

A dark rewrite of We Wish You A Merry Christmas-Given to me in a very creepy dream by a ghostly solider.

I wish you would't bury me on Christmas
Somehow it just don't seem right
Almost feels like I've been turned on
By both family and friends
If on this most holy of holidays you bury me
Deep out of sight

I wish you would't bury me on Christmas
More often then not now I wonder
Are you doing this in my life I was gay?
So sure now that by family and friends I have been turned on
Because you are so ashamed
You long only to hide the real truth of your son away

now
Never did we ever share those golden days
Those golden days of yore
Gathered around my coffin I see are unfaithful friends who before always advoided us
Wonder why they are here
Could it be that their guilt they can no longer ignore?

Through the long endless years ahead I vow
Here and now
One by one
To haunt you all together
If the fates allow
To prove a augished solider son's ghost
I will hang a shining star upon the highest bough
If you dare to bury me on this Christmas day now

Never did we ever share those golden days
Those golden days of yore
Gathered around my coffin I see are unfaithful friends who before always advoided us
Wonder why they are here
Could it be that their guilt they can no longer ignore?

I wish you would't bury me on Christmas
I wish you would't bury me on Christmas
I wish you would't bury me on Christmas
Ooh mom and dad and all the rest
If you ever truely loved me
Could't you wait till the new year?

I wish you would't bury me on Christmas
I wish you would't bury me on Christmas
Oh really
Could't you wait till the new year?

2008 Ramona Thompson

poem by Ramona Thompson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Coming Home For Christmas

Mrs Merryweather put coal on the fire,
while outside through the frosted windows
the snow was beginning to fall.
Christmas was only days away,
though the air raid sirens wailed daily,
they could not spoil the promise of Christmas.
Life just had to go on.

The coupons she had saved
would help them really celebrate.
It was going to be a Christmas
they were all going to remember.
She looked at the mantelpiece;
pride masked itself across her face
as she gazes at the photograph of her son.

Dressed in his uniform the photo stood pride of place.
He would be coming home for Christmas.
He had written to say he had leave this year.
It would be the first time the whole family
had sat around the table
to share a Christmas meal in years.

Ever since the war had started,
there had always been
at least one vacant chair there,
but not this Christmas of 1944.
Some maybe late in arriving,
but that did not matter a little bit.
The family, her family
were all coming home for Christmas Day.

The day before Christmas,
they slowly began to arrive.
One by one, she greeted them,
and then sat them around the fireplace
to be warmed by the coal fire’s glow.
They gathered toasting bread with a long fork,
singing popular songs
along with a radio show.

The thriftiness with the coupons
had bought a bounty store.
Everyone relaxed by the radio
as the hours crept slowly by.
Yawns began to appear
as one by one sleep captured everyone.
Mrs Merryweather was the last one to bed.
She waited for the knock on the door.
The knock that never came.

He was probably held up somewhere she thought.
He would be home for Christmas.
She knew it as he always kept his word.
Outside the moonlight danced on the falling snow,
blanketing all the footprints
that were out there.

Christmas morning came to greet them;
the snow lay thick on the ground.
Everyone felt so happy,
only Mrs Merryweather wore a frown.
Then came a knock on the door.
Upon answering it,
she took no notice
of the lack of footprints along the path.

Everyone’s face was filled with smile.
The person who stood there
was Mrs Merryweather’s son,
who had come home for Christmas
just as he had promised he would.
He told them all that unfortunately
he could only stay until sundown.
That his orders were that
then he had to go back.

The day was filled with merriment
and joyous celebration for all.
The day passed all too quickly
and sundown soon approached.
He said goodnight and goodbye
to everyone and wished them all well.
Mrs Merry weather, her smile transfixed.
She thanked God for his glorious gift
of having all her family around her
deep within the midst of war.

A few days passed when two letters arrived.
Both were postmarked before Christmas.
One was from her son saying how much
he looked forward to coming home.
The second was from the ministry
to inform her that her son had been killed
in action fours days before Christmas.

How could that be she questioned.
He had come home
and spent Christmas day with them.
Her son had indeed been killed
in the theatre of war on the day they said.
The mystery of his coming home for Christmas
is a mystery that remains today.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Due To Money

Due to money good friendships have come to an end
For money can make an enemy out of a friend
And due to money many are serving prison time
For money or lack of it leads many to serious crime
Due to money the Fifth Commandment has often been broken it does seem sad to say
That some with their lives due to money do pay
Those who say money is not important to reality not true
If you owe someone a lot of money for Court you are due
Whoever say money is not important believe their own lie
People have been bashed over money and left there to die
And people due to money feel happy to deceive
And that it does speak every language you ought to believe
Yes money out of a friend can make a foe
I am telling you something you already know.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Color of Money

Money
rules the power
rules the politicians
rules the dictators
money was colorful
when discovered
with exchange of trade
- money was for sharing
- money was for caring
now
money is for terror
money is for horror
money is for killing
money is for ruling
slowly slowly
money is losing all its colors
getting blacker and blacker
getting darker and darker
losing all its shine and glory.

poem by Ramesh Kavdia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Everything Is Broken

Broken lines, broken strings, broken threads, broken springs
Broken idols, broken heads, people sleeping in broken beds
Aint no use jivin, aint no use jokin
Everything is broken
Broken bottles, broken plates, broken switches, broken gates
Broken dishes, broken parts, streets are filled with broken hearts
Broken words never meant to be spoken
Everything is broken
Seems like every time you stop and turn around
Someone else has just hit the ground
Broken cutters, broken saws, broken buckles, broken laws
Broken bodies, broken bones, broken voices on broken phones
Take a deep breath, feel like youre chokin
Everything is broken
Every time you leave and go off some place
Things fall to pieces in my face
Broken hands on broken plows, broken treaties, broken vows
Broken pipes, broken tools, people bending broken rules
Hound dog howlin, bullfrog croakin
Everything is broken

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Everything Is Broken

Broken lines, broken strings
Broken threads, broken springs,
Broken idols, broken heads,
People sleeping in broken beds.
Aint no use jiving,
Aint no use joking,
Everything is broken.
Broken bottles, broken plates,
Broken switches, broken gates,
Broken dishes, broken parts,
Streets are filled with broken hearts.
Broken words never meant to be spoken,
Everything is broken.
Seems like every time you stop and turn around
Something else just hit the ground
Broken cutters, broken saws,
Broken buckles, broken laws,
Broken bodies, broken bones,
Broken voices on broken phones
Take a deep breath, feel like youre chokin,
Everything is broken.
Every time you leave and go off someplace
Thangs fall to pieces in my face
Broken hands on broken ploughs,
Broken treaties, broken vows,
Broken pipes, broken tools,
People bending broken rules.
Hound dog howling, bull frog croaking,
Everything is broken.

song performed by by Kenny Wayne Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Perfect Christmas

The perfect christmas,
would be held with much family and friends,
all gathered in one place,
to spend this special time,
with those they love.
~
So now dreaming,
of that one perfect christmas,
with the special people in my life.
~
Pictures i see flashing,
through my mind,
of beautiful white snow falling,
a tree,
with presents under it,
in front of the window,
and everything laughing,
having a good time,
while opening,
their gifts.
~
Such a wonderful time of the year,
hopefully being the perfect christmas,
that we all wish for.
: : end: :

written: 12/5/05

poem by Broken Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Birthday Of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Once again Christmas is here,
Let's have a celebration,
Forget the debts and have no fear,
It will fill you with such elation.

Spending money you haven't got,
Up to your eyeballs in debt,
What you don't need can and will be bought,
Just for now there's no need to fret.

When Christmas day has come and gone,
As the presents lie scattered and broken,
The thought of the bill will finally dawn,
But for now it will remain unspoken.

As final demands dropp through your door,
You bury your head in the sand,
Opening the letters is too much of a chore,
The stress then gets out of hand.

It becomes so unbearable you cannot cope,
That's when reality kicks in,
You are on your own and left without hope,
You're in a battle you just cannot win.

Why did I do it you shout out loud,
As they price all your goods to be sold,
Next it's the house of which you were so proud,
Theat very feeling just leaves you ice cold.

Jesus Christ I hear you say,
But I think it's being used in vain,
Though he was born on Christmas day,
From his memory most will refrain.

Spend, spend, spend for spendings sake,
Is not what Christmas is about,
It's the spirit of Jesus we all must awake,
That's what this day is about.

Take some time to give him praise,
It's a gift that doesn't cost,
The return you get will truly amaze,
In his kingdom you will never be lost.

Joining with the Lord is not a crime,
By material goods you must not be enticed,
Celebrate what is a miraculous time,

‘' The Birth Day Of Our Lord Jesus Christ ‘'

poem by Bri Mar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Broken Window

“Stand aside, the shop keeper impolitely said,
paying customer first.” Mother and I stood aside
and waited it took long busy now before Yule,
she had a card from the social to purchase boots
and jumpers and I was getting fidgety and upset.

Finally we got our stuff in a brown paper bag,
time was hard fancy papers was for those who
had money. I was seven but the humiliation was
gnawing a big hole in my guts, mother said:
“Beggars can be choosers” I was silent.

The local paper reported about a broken shop
window, oddly nothing was stolen, I smiled
proud of my mother, she had a job nearby
cleaning the office of a tropical fruit importer,
in a good mood now she smoked a cigarette.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Christmas Past

Oh happy days, the snow fell over-night,
we have a white Christmas in our sight.
Only a few more days and nights,
Christmas will shine bright of white.

Remember those beautiful Christmas Eves,
when we gathered round our colorful trees.
Remember when we caroled down the street,
sang Christmas songs oh so sweet.

Memories are precious let’s not forget,
don’t do anything you might regret.
Christmas is the time of year to share,
to treasure family far and near.

This Christmas with the lights shining bright,
reflecting God’s blanket of white.
Sing sweet songs in memory,
past Christmas’s history.

Written: Dec.14/06

poem by Melvina Germain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Mind On My Money

[Chorus - Sean Paul]
I got my mind on my money, my money on my mind
(Got my mind on my money, and my money on my mind)
I got my mind on my money, money on my mind
(Got my mind on my money, and my money on my mind)
I got my mind on my money, my money on my mind
(Got my mind on my money, and my money on my mind)
I got my mind on my money, my money on my mind
(Got my mind on my money, and my money on my mind)
[Verse 1 - Sean Paul]
I got my mind on my money, my money on my mind
The thing I got I sell it, to get it all the time
A nickle or a dime, a half or a pound
Long as my bitch ridin', I'll put a nigga down
Im a playa from the jump, a hustler from the start
Something in your chest, then open up your heart
Im bouta bet it,like Memphis 10, they get it get it
Gotta have it have it, take it all, man if they let me
Ima run it, put somethin' on it, instead of bet it
It's that money, don't make no money, buddy I'm ready
Can I get it? It's win or lose, you know the rules
We rollin', we didn't hit it, now pay your dues
[J-Bo]
Now when it comes to gettin' that cash flow
Im all about that paper, no credit, just straight dough
And for all who don't know, there's money out to be made
So get it while you can, and still it's just a phase
In the eyes of a hustler nigga, you'd be amazed
That time waits for no one, so God, I pray
Try hard not to fall thru life stuck unemployed
So instead I keep on livin' what's given within my void
Put a end after hours scrapin' up all my change
From quarters to dimes, as you see, this ain't no game
So pick up on your pimpin', get on it and never slip
Cuz all on my mind is my money fully gripped (fully gripped)

song performed by by Youngbloodz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Mind On My Money

song performed by by Youngbloodz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I Hate Christmas Parties

I hope it snows this week
A snowflake on your cheek
Would make this Christmas so beautiful
But that would just bring the pain,
Because things cant stay the same
These holidays wont be wonderful
I look under the tree, but theres nothing to see
Cause its a broken heart that youre giving me
I cant figure you out
Is this what Christmas is all about?
Cause its a broken heart that youre giving me
I dont want to talk, Im sick of all this talking
A broken heart wrapped up in a box
Theres tear drops in my stocking
I look under the tree, but theres nothing to see
Cause its a broken heart, that youre giving me
I cant figure you out
Is this what Christmas is all about?
Cause its a broken heart that youre giving me
I hate Christmas parties
You offer me some punch, but I just shrug
I hate Christmas parties
You and the cookie tray, both hear me say
Bah Humbug
Falalalalalalalalala Falalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalala(2x)
I look under the tree, but theres nothing to see
Cause its a broken heart that youre giving me
I cant figure you out
Is this what Christmas is all about?
Cause its a broken heart that youre giving me
I look under the tree, but theres nothing to see
Cause its a broken heart that youre giving me

song performed by by Relient K
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Money! !

Oh money!
Money, money, money! !
That day, oh money;
For how long should i wait for you to visit me?

Money rules and money is for power,
And the lack of money had made many to fall;
But the dead know nothing about you again.

Many have fallen due to the lack of money,
But my love is for the fish of the sea!
And to examine and observe the birds of the air;
But i am still waiting for my freedom on this earth.

My mind is with an idea and i want to express myself,
But to a world full of wars and less peace;
So what can i do without you oh money? !

The world is cast off and it is defiled,
And with dead men walking around us always to share with us;
But for how long should i wait for you oh money? ! !

Oh money, wher are you?
Where is your dwelling place so that i can visit you?
For i have to observe and examine you well when i do find you.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Christmas Fairy

The fairy on the Christmas tree
Is looking quite forlorn.
Her wand is broken and splinted;
Her wings, all tattered and torn.
Her dress of stiff crepe paper
Was once a bright sky blue,
But time has bleached it all away.
It's now a much paler hue.
But through it all, each Christmas
She sits in pride of place,
Gazing down on the proceedings,
A serene smile on her face.
She sat there when I was growing up,
And when my son was small,
And, somehow, I know she'll still be there
When the grandchildren come to call.
She's become a part of my family life,
Of memories which I hold dear,
And to me, at least, she heralds in
A Christmas filled with cheer.
And I just can't bear to give her up,
To heartlessly throw her away.
To me she represents Christmases Past
And she will to my dying day.

poem by Dawn Ferrett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

En.Citatepedia®.ro

The Broken-Teapot

Related quotes

A Chocolate Teapot

An Old Barn By The Side Of The Fields Of Hay

Father Christmas

Everyone Will Feel Pinched By a Grinch On the Loose

My Nordic Christmas Story

I Wish You Would't Bury Me On Christmas

Coming Home For Christmas

Due To Money

Color of Money

Everything Is Broken

Everything Is Broken

The Perfect Christmas

The Birthday Of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Broken Window

Christmas Past

Mind On My Money

Mind On My Money

I Hate Christmas Parties

Money! !

The Christmas Fairy

En.Citatepedia^®.ro