Mrs O’Hara’s Bathtub (Fun Poem 39)
Rub-a-dub-dub,
Mrs O’Hara’s bathtub,
a towel gone for a drink,
fell into the tub.
What is the poor lady to dry herself with now?
Oh, dear what can she do,
the robe she thought,
give it a tug,
but it fell into the tub.
Now what was she going to do?
Call for her husband.
A yell, a scream is heard,
as he rushes in like a buffalo herd.
“What is the matter, dear? ” he says,
and then slips up on a bar of soap.
Rub-a -dub-dub,
Mrs O’Hara, towel, robe, and hubby all in the tub.
19 April 1979
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Art
Ordinary items, extraordinary art,
Wooden pegs in a bowl I see, but what,
is that blue, red and yellow part?
A bar of soap, it does look somewhat.......
My hubby guessed a blue towel,
Or a shirt that is red,
Perhaps it was a dish towel,
Or something made of thread
I guess I have to wait once he has read
My query in this poem before he goes to bed.
What you see is what you get,
This is exactly what he said.
'Tell your Hubby, he and I see the same way.
That is exactly what it pretends to be! '
Now I see......
Washing And Dressing
AH! why will my dear little girl be so cross,
And cry, and look sulky, and pout?
To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss,
I can't even kiss her without.
You say you don't like to be wash'd and be dress'd,
But would you not wish to be clean?
Come, drive that long sob from your dear little breast,
This face is not fit to be seen.
If the water is cold, and the brush hurts your head,
And the soap has got into your eye,
Will the water grow warmer for all that you've said?
And what good will it do you to cry?
It is not to tease you and hurt you, my sweet,
But only for kindness and care,
That I wash you, and dress you, and make you look neat,
And comb out your tanglesome hair.
I don't mind the trouble, if you would not cry,
But pay me for all with a kiss;
That's right–take the towel and wipe your wet eye,
I thought you'd be good after this.
poem by Ann Taylor
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The Washing and Dressing
Ah! why will my dear little girl be so cross,
And cry, and look sulky, and pout?
To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss,
I can't even kiss her without.
You say you don't like to be wash'd and be dress'd,
But would you not wish to be clean?
Come, drive that long sob from your dear little breast,
This face is not fit to be seen.
If the water is cold, and the brush hurts your head,
And the soap has got into your eye,
Will the water grow warmer for all that you've said?
And what good will it do you to cry?
It is not to tease you and hurt you, my sweet,
But only for kindness and care,
That I wash you, and dress you, and make you look neat,
And comb out your tanglesome hair.
I don't mind the trouble, if you would not cry,
But pay me for all with a kiss;
That's right -- take the towel and wipe your wet eye,
I thought you'd be good after this.
poem by Ann Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wake Of Tim O'Hara
TO the Wake of O’Hara
Came company;
All St. Patrick’s Alley
Was there to see,
With the friends and kinsmen
Of the family.
On the long deal table lay Tim in white,
And at his pillow the burning light.
Pale as himself, with the tears on her cheek,
The mother receiv’d us, too full to speak;
But she heap’d the fire, and on the board
Set the black bottle with never a word,
While the company gather’d, one and all,
Men and women, big and small:
Not one in the Alley but felt a call
To the Wake of Tim O’Hara.
At the face of O’Hara,
All white with sleep,
Not one of the women
But took a peep,
And the wives new-wedded
Began to weep.
The mothers gather’d round about,
And prais’d the linen and laying out,—
For white as snow was his winding-sheet,
And all was peaceful, and clean, and sweet;
And the old wives, praising the blessed dead,
Were thronging around the old press-bed,
Where O’Hara’s widow, tatter’d and torn,
Held to her bosom the babe newborn,
And star’d all around her, with eyes forlorn,
At the Wake of Tim O’Hara.
For the heart of O’Hara
Was good as gold,
And the life of O’Hara
Was bright and bold,
And his smile was precious
To young and old!
Gay as a guinea, wet or dry,
With a smiling mouth, and a twinkling eye!
Had ever an answer for chaff and fun;
Would fight like a lion, with any one!
Not a neighbor of any trade
But knew some joke that the boy had made;
Not a neighbor, dull or bright,
But minded something—frolic or fight,
And whisper’d it round the fire that night,
At the Wake of Tim O’Hara.
“To God be glory
In death and life,
He’s taken O’Hara
From trouble and strife!”
Said one-eyed Biddy,
The apple-wife.
“God bless old Ireland!” said Mistress Hart,
Mother to Mike of the donkey-cart;
“God bless old Ireland till all be done,
She never made wake for a better son!”
And all join’d chorus, and each one said
Something kind of the boy that was dead;
And the bottle went round from lip to lip,
And the weeping widow, for fellowship,
Took the glass of old Biddy and had a sip,
At the Wake of Tim O’Hara.
Then we drank to O’Hara
With drams to the brim,
While the face of O’Hara
Look’d on so grim,
In the corpse-light shining
Yellow and dim.
The cup of liquor went round again,
And the talk grew louder at every drain;
Louder the tongue of the women grew!
The lips of the boys were loosening too!
The widow her weary eyelids clos’d,
And, soothed by the drop o’ drink, she doz’d;
The mother brighten’d and laugh’d to hear
Of O’Hara’s fight with the grenadier,
And the hearts of all took better cheer,
At the Wake of Tim O’Hara.
Tho’ the face of O’Hara
Look’d on so wan,
In the chimney-corner
The row began—
Lame Tony was in it,
The oyster-man;
For a dirty low thief from the North came near,
And whistled “Boyne Water” in his ear,
And Tony, with never a word of grace,
Flung out his fist in the blackguard’s face;
And the girls and women scream’d out for fright,
And the men that were drunkest began to fight:
Over the tables and chairs they threw,—
The corpse-light tumbled,—the trouble grew,—
The newborn join’d in the hullabaloo,—
At the Wake of Tim O’Hara.
“Be still! be silent!
Ye do a sin!
Shame be his portion
Who dares begin!”
’T was Father O’Connor
Just enter’d in!
All look’d down, and the row was done,
And sham’d and sorry was every one;
But the Priest just smil’d quite easy and free—
“Would ye wake the poor boy from his sleep?” said he:
And he said a prayer, with a shining face,
Till a kind of brightness fill’d the place;
The women lit up the dim corpse-light,
The men were quieter at the sight,
And the peace of the Lord fell on all that night
At the Wake of Tim O’Hara.
poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse
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There's Always Tomorrow
Top Model, actress and glamour girl
with a lovely smile just like a pearl
walked through Paris quite elegantly
with Scarlett O'Hara propensity.
Admiring glances flew quite freely on
the Avenue of the Champs Elysees.
But her feminine charm soon did wane
and had 'gone with the wind' and the rain.
Droplets fell down her beautiful face
mascara became a frightful disgrace;
those brunette locks were straggly
and wet - not one sweet glance
did she beget. Oh what humility
descended that morn on Scarlet O'Hara
lost and forlorn. But a voice from within
said secretly 'There's always tomorrow'
.......... 'fiddle-de-dee'..........
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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April, Dear April
April, dear April, I beg you come soon –
And bring your sweet primroses too.
Let them join in with the daffodils’ play,
As skies offer sunshine anew.
April, dear April, my blessed spring child,
Ornate in your yellow and white,
Teasing the birds into trilling their songs
And dancing to music of flight.
April, dear April, come enter my dreams
And rid me from cold winter chills.
Banish the rain and those blustery winds
And warm up our countryside hills.
April, dear April, I know you can’t stay -
You have to move on ‘till next year.
And though I shall cherish the glory of summer,
You’ll always be my month most dear.
From: Succumbed to Thinking by Mark Raymond Slaughter, lulu.com
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
April April April April
April April April April
April April April April
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Lo And Behold
I pulled out for San Anton',
I never felt so good.
My woman said she'd meet me there
And of course, I knew she would.
The coachman, he hit me for my hook
And he asked me my name.
I give it to him right away,
Then I hung my head in shame.
Lo and behold! Lo and behold!
Lookin' for my lo and behold,
Get me outa here, my dear man!
I come into Pittsburgh
At six-thirty flat.
I found myself a vacant seat
An' I put down my hat.
"What's the matter, Molly, dear,
What's the matter with your mound?"
"What's it to ya, Moby Dick?
This is chicken town!"
Lo and behold! Lo and behold!
Lookin' for my lo and behold,
Get me outa here, my dear man!
I bought my girl
A herd of moose,
One she could call her own.
Well, she came out the very next day
To see where they had flown.
I'm goin' down to Tennessee,
Get me a truck 'r somethin'.
Gonna save my money and rip it up!
Lo and behold! Lo and behold!
Lookin' for my lo and behold,
Get me outa here, my dear man!
Now, I come in on a ferris wheel
An' boys, I sure was slick.
I come in like a ton of bricks,
Laid a few tricks on 'em.
Goin' back to Pittsburgh,
Count up to thirty,
Round that horn and ride that herd,
Gonna thread up!
Lo and behold! Lo and behold!
Lookin' for my lo and behold,
Get me outa here, my dear man!
song performed by by Bob Dylan, music by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kiss Me Dear..Part3
Kiss me dear kiss me with lustful.
Kiss me dear kiss me with luxurious.
Kiss me dear kiss me with lyrical.
Kiss me dear kiss me with lovable.
Kiss me dear kiss me with humorous.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hummed.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hugged.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hopeful.
Kiss me dear kiss me with gutsy.
Kiss me dear kiss me with guaranty.
Kiss me dear kiss me with gratified.
Kiss me dear kiss me with graciousness.
Couse your kiss is a consomme.............
It's different taste..........
and i'will needs again...
Kiss me dear kiss me on sunday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on monday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on tuesday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on wednesday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on thursday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on friday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on saturday.
Couse your kiss is my dish everyday.
and i'will needs again.
Kiss me dear kiss me on january.
Kiss me dear kiss me on february.
Kiss me dear kiss me on march.
Kiss me dear kiss me on april.
Kiss me dear kiss me on may.
Kiss me dear kiss me on june.
Kiss me dear kiss me on july.
Kiss me dear kiss me on august.
Kiss me dear kiss me on september.
Kiss me dear kiss me on october.
Kiss me dear kiss me on november.
Kiss me dear kiss me on december.
Couse your kiss is my: every times
every days
every month
and every years.
I'will needs again
The Last Masquerade
A wan new garment of young green
Touched, as you turned your soft brown hair
And in me surged the strangest prayer
Ever in lover's heart hath been.
That I who saw your youth's bright page,
A rainbow change from robe to robe,
Might see you on this earthly globe,
Crowned with the silver crown of age.
Your dear hair powdered in strange guise,
Your dear face touched with colours pale:
And gazing through the mask and veil
The mirth of your immortal eyes.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dear Supposed Mom...
Dear supposed mom,
Where are you?
Where have you been all my life?
I thought I was lost and I really needed you.
Dear supposed mom,
Why did you leave me?
Why were you gone all my life.
I never thought that I could fell this betrayed by my family.
Dear supposed mom,
What did I mean in your life?
What did I do to make you hate me?
I'm sorry I caused you so much strife.
Dear supposed mom,
Who are you?
Who do you think you are?
Do you feel the same way I do?
Dear supposed mom,
When are you coming for me?
When do you plan on finding me?
I just want to have a real family.
Dear supposed mom,
I want to hear from you.
Dear supposed mom,
I hate you but I want to love you.
poem by Kelli Richards
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Never Love Again
(gamble / huff / chambers)
Dear lord above
I swear that i
I will never love again
Unless Im lovin him
Oh, no, oh, oh, oh
He came to me
With a twinkle in his eye
And I fell for him
Yes, I fell for him
Took me by surprise
Unaware was i
Well I fell for him
Oh, I fell for him
If I ever needed help
I need it now
Aint none of my so-called friends
Got the power
To make my tears go way
So on my knees I pray
That you bring his love my way
Dear lord above
I swear that ill
Never, never love again
Oh, no-ho
I stare down at the eyes
And wipe the tears I cried
When I fell for him
Yes, I fell him
Gettin next to me
Was all he wanted to see
Well goody-good for him
Goody-good for him
When my hearts in trouble
And my minds in doubt
Youre the only one who could ever work it out
And bring the sun back in my day
So on my knees I pray
That you send his love my way
Dear lord above
I swear that i
I will never love again
Unless Im loving him
No Ill never, never, never, never, never, never, never gonna love again
Oh, yes Im never, never, never , never, never, never, never gonna love again
Dear lord above
I swear that ill
Never, never, never, never, love again
Unless Im lovin him
Said Im never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never gonna love again
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tarzan (A Song)
Deep in the jungle you can hear a yell
Over in the jungle an air plane fell
All the apes came gathered around
To come see this thing that fell to the ground
All inside, none survived
Until the apes heard an infant cry
Aug aug ooga no child for mama Toga
A child for you it fell from the blue
Now the apes they took it home
Mama ape Toga raised it on her own
It grew up, it didn’t take long
Now swinging from the trees it big and strong
Aug aug ooga no child for mama Toga
A child for you it fell from the blue
Some they say, call him Tarzan
Some say half ape, some say half man
Swinging tree to tree not wearing any briefs
Some they say a white chimpanzee
Aug aug ooga no child for mama Toga
A child for you it fell from the blue
Now deep in the jungle and I’ve heard it well
Not to far from where that air plane fell
Some they tried to hunt him but didn’t live to tell
He is the king of the jungle you can hear his yell
All inside, none survived
Until the apes heard an infant cry
Aug aug ooga no child for mama Toga
A child for you it fell from the blue.
poem by Bill Simmons
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Wish You Were Here
I sent you a postcard
Thought it would be funny
Would have sent a souvenir
But they took all my money
It's pretty warm down here but it ain't sunny
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I tried to call you
I tried to call you
Long distance operators that only stall you
Besides the damn rates are so high
They just appall you
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
It started out a nice vacation
Left the station right on time
Can't get a ticket to get me home, dear
They just don't have too many flights from twilight zone, dear
So don't forget to feed my cats
Spot and Jerome, dear
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Seeing all the sights here
I'm getting lonely
I'd show you all the film I took if they would only
Let me go home
Dear, sincerely
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have maya for mother in law
I have Maya for mother-in-law,
the world for father-in-law;
three brothers-in-law, like tigers;
and the husband’s thoughts
are full of laughing women;
no god, this man,
And I cannot cross the sister-in-law.
But I will
give this wench the slip
and go cuckold my husband with
Hara, my Lord.
My mind is my maid:
by her kindness, I join
my Lord,
my utterly beautiful Lord
from the mountain peaks,
my lord white as jasmine,
and I will make Him
my good husband
poem by Akka Mahadevi
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The heart, they say, asks pleasure first
A king is a king by his robe;
A priest is a priest by his robe;
A judge is a judge by his robe;
A nun is a nun by her robe.
Naked, they answer their instincts
Which are not different from yours
04.09.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Sage Green Robe
I sit on my bed, and look across at my sage green towelling robe,
hanging on the back of the bedroom door.
Does he still 'fancy' me,
when I'm wearing it,
probably not,
it's not 'sexy', rather 'frumpy' really,
not at all an 'exciting' piece of clothing.
A dowdy bird,
dowdy and unheard!
I think that's me!
A 'new' me, must emerge from that robe.
A butterfly from a chrysalis,
A rose from a bud.
I think I need an overhaul, and a new 'robe',
like you see the 'famous' wearing,
in their 'penthouses'.
A glorious creation of satin and silk,
like flowing cream and milk.
Mind you, my towelling robe, hangs next to his towelling robe,
so perhaps we will do the same, and remain side by side,
and perhaps he loves me for other things than just being,
glamorous.
Hanging there, they look at peace with each other,
so I think I'll stick with my sage green towelling robe,
it cuddles me, just like he does!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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April Lady
Words and music by brian may and tim staffell
She won our hearts the arts she loved
Is painting pictures for free
When she was done she hung them up
For all the children to see
Goodbye april lady
Its been good to have you around
Goodbye april lady
Youve done a lot for the folks in this town
The children learned to read
She strung their beads
Its sorry she was the one
As you can see isnt she good
She dont leave nothing undone
Goodbye april lady
Its been good to have you around
Goodbye april lady
Youve done a lot for the folks in this town
She taught them all to love
She was their cream
And we dont want her to go
But we know too well
She fell in love
And theres no stopping her so
Goodbye april lady
Its been good to have you around
Goodbye april lady
Youve done a lot for the folks in this town
Goodbye april lady...
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To my dear friend, who brought me back from a terrible place
A dear friend lifts you up,
brings you back from a hellish life.
A dear friend makes you smile,
even as tears stream down your face.
A dear friend shows you that life has meaning,
that your worth something and you belong.
A dear friend tells you how they care,
let you know that you are important and priceless to them.
A dear friend loves you no matter what,
no matter your imperfections or you faults.
A dear friend is always there,
to make it all better, to make your crappy day go away.
A dear friend is what everyone needs,
what everyone deserves.
A dear friend is given from God,
the greatest gift the heavens could ever give.
Thank you Buddy!
poem by Angelic Warrior
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 53
Although a sultan’s garment of honour is dear yet one’s own old robe is more dear; and though the food of a great man may be delicious, the broken crumbs of one’s own sack are more delicious.
Vinegar by one’s own labour and vegetables
Are better than bread received as alms, and veal.
Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 10
A poet went to an amir of robbers and recited a panegyric but he ordered him to be divested of his robe. As the poor man was departing naked in the world, he was attacked from behind by dogs, whereon he intended to snatch up a stone but it was frozen to the ground and, being unable to do so, he exclaimed: ‘What whore-sons of men are these? They have let loose the dogs and have tied down the stones.’ The amir of the robbers who heard these words from his room laughed and said: ‘O philosopher, ask something from me.’ He replied: ‘I ask for my robe if thou wilt make me a present of it.’
We are satisfied of thy gift by departure.
A man was hoping for the gifts of people.
I hope no gift from thee. Do me no evil.
The robber chief took pity upon him, ordered his robe to be restored to him and added to it a sheepskin jacket with some dirhems.