The happy household
It's when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks,
That, clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes;
Then it's sleep no more for baby, and it's sleep no more for me,
For, when he wants his dinner, why it's dinner it must be!
And of that lacteal fluid he partakes with great ado,
While gran'ma laughs,
And gran'pa laughs,
And wife, she laughs,
And I - well, I laugh, too!
You'd think, to see us carrying on about that little tad,
That, like as not, that baby was the first we'd ever had;
But, sakes alive! he isn't, yet we people make a fuss
As if the only baby in the world had come to us!
And, morning, noon, and night-time, whatever he may do,
Gran'ma, she laughs,
Gran'pa, he laughs,
Wife, she laughs,
And I, of course, laugh, too!
But once - a likely spell ago - when that poor little chick
From teething or from some such ill of infancy fell sick,
You wouldn't know us people as the same that went about
A-feelin' good all over, just to hear him crow and shout;
And, though the doctor poohed our fears and said he'd pull him through,
Old gran'ma cried,
And gran'pa cried,
And wife, she cried,
And I - yes, I cried, too!
It makes us all feel good to have a baby on the place,
With his everlastin' crowing and his dimpling, dumpling face;
The patter of his pinky feet makes music everywhere,
And when he shakes those fists of his, good-by to every care!
No matter what our trouble is, when he begins to coo,
Old gran'ma laughs,
And gran'pa laughs,
Wife, she laughs,
And I - you bet, I laugh, too!
poem by Eugene Field
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Related quotes
But I miss you Gran
I miss you so much Gran.
You left me.
And I don't no why.
But i miss you Gran.
I thought you'd be here for ever.
But now you've gone away.
And I miss you Gran.
I wish you could come back.
I can no longer see you.
I can't touch your face or hold your hand.
I can no longer give you a hug and a kiss.
I miss you Gran.
I don't understand why you had to go.
You've gone from this world.
And I miss you Gran.
I wish you were here.
A friendly face you alwys had.
Words of wisdom you would give.
But I miss you Gran.
My heart is breaking.
I just hope you no that I loved you.
I miss you Gran I really miss you.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Dear Granfather
My gran father
Is...
My father...
yes...
My lovingely father...
My gran father loves for me...
At over of my father...
I am also love
My gran father a lot....
My gran father telling
Stores at my child age...
It is very happyfull...
Today my gran father
Is passaway...
I did not woory
I did not cry...
But...
Heart only think
My gran father
Golden days...
Theay all are
Olden days...
Did not come
My life that days....
My gran father also...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Talk Over Tea.
Janice's gran
had left the room
to fetch another
pot of tea
and Janice said
Are you coming on
the day trip to the seaside?
I'm not sure
you replied
Oh please do
Janice said
Then we can be together
and I won't have to spend time
with those giggly girls
from the gospel group
you looked at her fair hair
and the way her eyes
were on you
and how precise
her lips were
when she spoke
I'm not sure my parents
can afford it
you said
Oh it's free for kids
whose parents are poor
she said
And after all
it's part of the point
of the whole thing
to show Christian values
and so on
and she smiled
and put her hand
on yours
under the table
as her gran came in
with the teapot
What are you two
talking about?
Gran asked
putting the teapot
down on the table
Janice's hand
squeezed yours
under the table
Oh just about the day trip
to the seaside
Janice said
Are you going too?
her gran asked you
you hesitated
and then said
Yes I think so
and Janice looked at you
her blue eyes bright
and she said
Isn't that good Gran?
Yes indeed
her gran said
and poured tea
into your cup
and added milk
and sugar
and Janice's hand
left yours
and the absence
of the warmth
of her hand
felt like
a dying world
in a vast galaxy
or drowning
in a deep blue sea.
poem by Terry Collett
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Laughs
A woman laughs more, laughs often.
She laughs more in front of men,
More so in front of whom she values
And a man enjoys her every laugh.
05.08.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Farce.
Caesar thought he was out of reach
'midst weeds and grass, he ate a peach.
Pompeia, his wife, found him at last
Palms held up, she delivered a blast.
'Caesar, new lawn is coming today,
get busy, clear weeds, cut grass, don't play.'.
He said 'Stop, enough of your SNORTS AND BAWL'.
Biting ONCE MORE INTO THE PEACH, he obeyed her call.
And when he was done, found that that wasn't all.
'RAKE HAY WHILE THE SUN SHINES'
said Gran with a fag on her lip
'SEIZE THE HAY', said Pompeia,
whilst beating cream with a whip.
Caesar said 'How about help, I'd expect no less'.
'We're making a trifle for Dan's wife Ness'.
'Who? '
'you know, NESS ESSITY..........THE MOTHER OF VIN VENTION'.
Caesar stuck in his finger and licked causing tension
'Why? ', wailed Pompeia and hit him with a sieve. Ding!
'Ow! A TRIFE UNEXAMINED IS NOT WORTH GIVING'.
Gran muttered 'THE WIFE OF DAN IS SOLITARY, POOR,
NASTY, BRUTISH AND SHORT'.
'Gran! , that's not a very charitable thing to say'.
'Well someone ought'.
'Lay the topsoil, Caesar', said Pompeia, pointing to trailer in drive.
'LOAM IS WHERE THE CART IS, no more you skive'.
'How will I level, lay straight and true? '
'GRAN IS THE MEASURER OF ALL THINGS, she'll show you'.
Caesar swore when the shovel impacted his toe.
'Language', warned Gran.
'I CALL A SPADE A SPADE, you know'.
A bug lit on his nose, he focussed his sight,
too late, 'Ow! , THE MOVING WINGER BITES'.
Grumbled as he started to lay the turf,
'MESSED UP THE WEEK FOR HAY THAT INHABIT THE EARTH'.
'Keep going', urged Gran as Pompeia came to see,
'Nay, THOU SHALT HAVE NO OTHER SODS BEFORE TEA'.
He went to the kitchen, but before he could speak,
Pompeia threw up her arms, 'YOU REEK! , YOU REEK! '.
'For *@%$'s sake! ', he mumbled.
'Language', warned Gran.
'I STINK THEREFORE I DAMN, you old dishpan! '
Gran clasped her hands to her chest, most distraught,
moaning, 'THE LIFE OF GRAN IS SOLITARY, POOR,
NASTY, BRUTISH AND SHORT'.
At last all was finished AND SO TO BED.
'I LAME, I SORE, I BONKERED', he said.
Pompeia planned party quite pleased with herself,
'Will you mow the lawn? '
'No', he said, 'MOW THYSELF'.
They invited Dann over and Ness brought her brother.
'Gran, stop smoking, we're all going to smother'.
'Shan't', said Gran, 'ONE GOOD BURN PRESERVES A MOTHER'.
Ness and Gran just glowered at each other.
Ness said, 'My brother mows lawns, that's his van,
Caesar, meet BRUTUS, HE'S AN HONOURABLE MAN'.
poem by Diane Hine
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Growl
While Allen Ginsberg told us “Howl! ”
I do prefer Clint Eastwood’s growl,
while cherishing his Gran Torino,
spaghetti westernized the fino
he dramatizes in Detroit.
This expiatory exploit
performed by the old man who killed
Koreans in the killing field,
and sought atonement for this wrong,
grumpily befriending Hmong
whom up to then he had despised,
is hardly overdramatized
by Clint, who’s far more in accord
with life than Ginzberg, as his Ford––
the Gran Torino ’72––
proves him to be with derring-do.
That’s why I far prefer Clint’s growl
to Ginsberg’s grating hapless howl.
Inspired by Clint Eastwood’s movie “Gran Torino, ” which concludes with a song, “Gran Torino, ” composed and sung by Eastwood at the end of the movie, where we see the Gran Torino that he bequeathes Thao, his young Hmong friend, driving along the shores of the Lake Huron.
12/30/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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You and Jackson Pollock.
How's the girl
with the red beret?
your sister asked
she'd seen you
and Janice
and her gran
on the way home
from school
she probably walking
with her friend
following behind
and Janice said
I made a picture today
out of cut up
pieces of paper
and the teacher said
it was the best
she'd seen
her gran said
Now now Janice
mustn't boast
I expect
there were other pictures
equally as good
But teacher said it
not me
Janice replied
Did you make a picture?
her gran asked you
her eyes falling on you
and taking in
your look
like a rabbit caught
in headlamps of a car
in the night
Yes
you said
I made a picture
of a morning sunset
out of red and yellow
and green for the grass
and blue for the sky
Janice smiled
and touched your hand
surreptitiously
her small hand
feeling along
your skin
Did you make it
out of cut up
pieces of paper too?
her gran asked
you sensed Janice's fingers
squeezing into your hand
No
you replied
I did it with water colour paints
and what did teacher say?
her gran asked
she said it reminded her
of a Jackson Pollock
whoever he is
you said
looking at Janice's red beret
and her hair
coming from beneath
so wonderfully
unlike your
short back and sides
and unlike her hair
with its red coloured
hair slides.
poem by Terry Collett
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If I Knew Then
The funny-face kid from down the street
Always very close at hand
He was just a cowboy, I was lady gran
But I dont think I would have shot him down
If I knew then what I know now
High school days and puppy love
Learning what its all about
He was kinda akward, I was filling out
But I dont think that I would have played around
If I knew then what I know now
Too many years, too many chairs
Too many other things, too many men
Time and again I had to test my wings
No time for love, strings or wedding rings
A pretty young girl from baltimore
Got herself a real good man
Once he was a cowboy who wanted lady gran
And I know that I would have made that now
If I knew then what I know now
Once he was a cowboy who wanted lady gran
And I know that I would have made that vow
If I knew then what I know now
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Fred and The Sand Dance
Your Uncle Fred
on Christmas Eve
at Gran's house
when you were a kid
did the sand dance
wearing an old fashion
man's striped nightgown
and a red fez
(he got that in Egypt
during WW2
Gran said)
and brown
open toed sandals
and Uncle Ed
turned the handle
of the windup gramophone
where an old
78rpm record
was playing
and there were
glasses of sherry
being consumed
and cigarettes being smoked
and you sat watching
clapping your hands
and Gran would get up
afterwards
and do her Can-Can
like she used to
as she young woman
on the stage
and Granddad sat there
quiet saying nothing
looking at
the people gathered
sipping his sherry
watching his wife
lifting her legs
her white fuzzy hair
going to and fro
as she moved
and you wanted
to have some sherry
but your mother said
no you have lemonade
little boys
don't have sherry
so you sat
with your lemonade
watching Uncle Fred
and his dance
and the music coming
from the old gramophone
and the smell of sherry
and beer and cigarette smoke
and Uncle telling the adults
one of his old army jokes.
poem by Terry Collett
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Apollo Laughs
'APOLLO laughs,' the proverb tells,
Far echo of old oracles,
A Delphic waif, —'Once in the year,
Apollo laughs.' O laughter clear
As sunshine, blithe as golden bells!
What mortal folly parallels
Olympian jest and so impels
To mirth till Heaven's bright charioteer,
Apollo, laughs?
'Tis when the annual critic knells
The death of poetry, while swells
Some faint, fresh wood-note, pioneer
Of music earth shall thrill to hear.
Then at Apollo's infidels
Apollo laughs.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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She who laughs not in the morning, laughs not at noon.
How Did You Rest, Last Night?
'How did you rest, last night?'--
I've heard my gran'pap say
Them words a thousand times--that's right--
Jes them words thataway!
As punctchul-like as morning dast
To ever heave in sight
Gran'pap 'ud allus haf to ast--
'How did you rest, last night?'
Us young-uns used to grin,
At breakfast, on the sly,
And mock the wobble of his chin
And eyebrows belt so high
And kind: _'How did you rest, last night?'_
We'd mumble and let on
Our voices trimbled, and our sight
Was dim, and hearin' gone.
* * * * *
Bad as I used to be,
All I'm a-wantin' is
As puore and ca'm a sleep fer me
And sweet a sleep as his!
And so I pray, on Jedgment Day
To wake, and with its light
See _his_ face dawn, and hear him say--
'How did you rest, last night?'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Laughing Song
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;
When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing ‘Ha, Ha, He!’
When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread,
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of ‘Ha, Ha, He!’
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I miss you so
I miss you so much.
As the morning rises.
And the day comes to a close.
The pain of missing you never ceases.
When I think of you my face creases.
All I can say is I miss you so.
Life hasn't been the same,
since you webt away.
And my tears still stay.
And my heart aches for you every day.
I breath in your smell.
Oh how I wish you were here.
All I know now is that I miss you so.
You are the brightest star at night.
And your smile is in the sun.
As I remeber the fun.
I miss you so much.
I dont think my heart will ever mend.
Dedicated to my gran who passed away almost a year ago.
Love you and miss you gran
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Lucasta Laughing
Heark, how she laughs aloud,
Although the world put on its shrowd:
Wept at by the fantastic crowd,
Who cry: one drop, let fall
From her, might save the universal ball.
She laughs again
At our ridiculous pain;
And at our merry misery
She laughs, until she cry.
Sages, forbear
That ill-contrived tear,
Although your fear
Doth barricado hope from your soft ear.
That which still makes her mirth to flow,
Is our sinister-handed woe,
Which downwards on its head doth go,
And, ere that it is sown, doth grow.
This makes her spleen contract,
And her just pleasure feast:
For the unjustest act
Is still the pleasant'st jest.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Lullaby
Rock-a-by baby, woolly and brown…
(There's a shout at the door an' a big red light…)
Lil' coon baby, mammy is down…
Han's that hold yuh are steady an' white…
Look piccaninny - such a gran' blaze
Lickin' up the roof an' the sticks of home -
Ever see the like in all yo' days!
- Cain't yuh sleep, mah bit-of-honey-comb?
Rock-a-by baby, up to the sky!
Look at the cherries driftin' by -
Bright red cherries spilled on the groun' -
Piping-hot cherries at nuthin' a poun'!
Hush, mah lil' black-bug - doan yuh weep.
Daddy's run away an' mammy's in a heap
By her own fron' door in the blazin' heat
Outah the shacks like warts on the street…
An' the singin' flame an' the gleeful crowd
Circlin' aroun'… won't mammy be proud!
With a stone at her hade an' a stone on her heart,
An' her mouth like a red plum, broken apart…
See where the blue an' khaki prance,
Adding brave colors to the dance
About the big bonfire white folks make -
Such gran' doin's fo' a lil' coon's sake!
Hear all the eagah feet runnin' in town -
See all the willin' han's reach outah night -
Han's that are wonderful, steady an' white!
To toss up a lil' babe, blinkin' an' brown…
Rock-a-by baby - higher an' higher!
Mammy is sleepin' an' daddy's run lame…
(Soun' may yuh sleep in yo' cradle o' fire!)
Rock-a-by baby, hushed in the flame…
(An incident of the East St. Louis Race Riots, when some white women flung
a living colored baby into the heart of a blazing fire.)
poem by Lola Ridge
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3 Years
The first year was great
jokes and laughs
games and retardedness
That summer was even better
staying up late
texting all day
showers over the phone
what more can we ask for?
The second year was wow
not so many jokes
less laughs
i dont even know what happened to the games
or to the retardedness
i think a good question should be...
What happened to you?
The summer started off shakey
yea we talked
but there was a big white wall in between us
or better yet a girl
she liked you so much
and yea i guess you liked her too.
The middle of the summer started getting better
we had the jokes and laughs
but still no games or retardedness
we were still missing alot.
Towards the end of the summer
we had everything
man was i happy
We were best friends again
the jokes and the laughs were awesome
and the games and the retardedness was back!
The third year is starting now
its going good so far
we still have everything
but....
The first year was better
and that summer was the best!
poem by Adriana Ellis
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Typical of a day
And then
I got up feelin aite
Hopin the day would be beautiful
I washed ma face and had breakfast
Went out of home to ma work place
To ma lill office, to ma lill space
And then
I said to ma self
I'll have to do ma best today
And work harder than the other day
And then
I did ma best, went for a break
Took some rest, had a cappucino and a cake
And then
Back to work, , , and handle as much as I can take
And then
The clock struck one
When all the paper work was done
And then
I had to see some friends
Just for chats and laughs
It's been long since we met
And hanged out together
Like birds of the same feather
We had a great time anyway
And parted sayin we'll meet soon another day
And then
I walked home, ma cozy sweet home
Where I live with ma dog all alone
Where I always come to hear and see
What's goin on this world in my TV
Through CNN and BBC
And then
Gave ma dog, , his lunch or dinner
He can call it whatever
Sat one ma sofa, turned on the TV
Saw this cool but kinda sad movie
And then
I cried and cried and cried
For that movie had reminded me
Deep down inside I was so damn lonely.
And then
I cried some more.
poem by Arsiema Berhane
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Her No.1 Fan
She is so sweet, and only three feet,
Her golden hair, is only just there,
A smile, a grin, can easily begin,
To charm a Gran, her No.1 fan,
We laugh a lot, but don't care a jot,
For we have fun, and when we are done,
Onto the sofa she flops, and then drops
Off to sleep, and I very quietly peep,
And observe her face, so full of grace,
In gentle rest. I am so blessed,
She warms my soul, she makes me whole.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Sure, the comedians who swear or use scatological humor can get laughs, but they're uncomfortable laughs.
quote by John Ratzenberger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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