Rough Justice story poem
Squire Cholmondely I presume
Was not prepared to meet his doom
when he was slaughtered by his groom.
Whose wife he made advances to
a thing no gentleman would do.
He got no more than he was due.
The groom decided he must pay
and slit his weasand one fine day
Then hid his corpse without delay.
Nobody liked the squire much
and he was often out of touch.
There was no hue and cry as such.
Nobody thought he might be dead.
The groom had dropped him so he said
to catch the coach for Maidenhead.
Where he indulged his appetite
for painted ladies of the night
Which he assumed to be his right.
The groom confessed on his death bed
that Squire Cholmondely was long dead
The priest absolved him readily.
The groom now dead had not revealed
where the body was concealed.
So that remains a mystery.
Now to this day nobody knows
the hiding place which the groom chose.
He hid it with great secrecy
Nobody cares sufficiently
to try to find where it might be
There’d be no useful purpose served.
The squire got what he deserved
I must conclude its for the best
Nobody knows where his bones rest.
Perhaps one day by happenstance
He will be found by some mischance.
Buried in some unhallowed plot.
But I would rather he was not.
The whole affair should be forgot
The past is past beyond recall
and I for one don’t care at all.
My granddad did what I would do
to anyone insulting you.
Sunday,08 November 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
Cholmondely is pronounced Chumly
For some obscure reason
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Bride's Entry Is A Storm
The entry of the bride to the groom's house:
Mother moved closer than before to the groom.
Sisters showed extra concerns to the groom.
They are nervous about the bride's influence.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Va Va Voom
Some men have shaven their heads full of hair.
To keep some thinking it's a style to shave them.
But thinning hair attracts some folks to stare.
And vanity is mainly known for women,
Who groom!
With nails they manicure and shoes that shine.
Colognes expensive are picked for the scents sent!
High maintenance is now the bottom line,
For men groomed.
To be swooned.
Some men have shaven their heads full of hair.
Va va voom.
To keep some thinking it's a style to shave them.
But thinning hair attracts some folks to stare.
Va va voom.
And vanity is mainly known for women,
Who groom!
With intent to be swooned.
Ooooohhh...
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Some men have shaven their heads full of hair.
To keep some thinking it's a style to shave them.
But thinning hair attracts some folks to stare.
And vanity is mainly known for women,
Who groom!
Although there are high maintenanced men there too...
Seeking to be swooned!
Oh? Oh? Oh? Ooooohhh...
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Lonely Groom
The family will forever remember
This day, a sunny morning
The family have gathered
The music is playing
The breadwinner of the family
Dressed in black suit
And a crystal white inner
A perfect groom waiting
For a perfect bride
Where is the bride?
There is no bride for
A motionless body
The lonely groom lay still
Laughing is replaced by weeping
The lonely groom takes away
The happiness that once
Bestowed upon the family.
poem by Duku Akwasi

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Marriage Is Sacred
‘Give me your hand that I may walk
In the light of faith you invest in me.’
Shows the groom to the bride by his look.
‘Take my hand that I may walk
In the path of love you install in me.’
Nods the bride to the groom in silence.
(15.06.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hindu Wedding On A Jasmine Day
The season of JASMINE is blooming.
Wedding is on a day of JASMINE.
The couple are ready for the holy-bond.
Guests are ready with their blessing-band.
Baskets of garlands and stringed JASMINE,
With decorative JASMINE tassles is pleasing.
The fragrance of JASMINE is ambrosial!
Breathtaking! JASMINES' aroma is celestial.
Her long plait padded with JASMINES strung,
Atop with strands of JASMINE being swung,
The bride is given a garland of JASMINE.
Also the 'groom is given a garland of JASMINE.
The family deity is adorned with JASMINE.
The guests are given strands of JASMINE.
The couple garland each other in heck.
The 'groom ties an yellow thread around bride's neck.
The priest makes the groom by seven steps,
Promise to guard his spouse in life's ups.
Splattering holy rice and scenty JASMINE,
All bless 'LONG SMELLY LIKE JASMINE'!
poem by Indira Renganathan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Wedding List
No, Ill never give the hunt up,
And I wont muck it up.
Somehow this is it, I knew.
Maybe fate wants you dead, too
Weve come together in the very same room,
And Im coming for you!
Do you think Id ever let you
Get away with it, huh?
He swooned in warm maroon.
Theres gas in your barrel, and Im flooded with doom.
Youve made a wake of our honeymoon,
And Im coming for you!
All of the headlines said passion crime
newly weds groom shot dead
mystery man. God help the bride
Shes a widow, all in red,
With his red still wet. she said--
Ill put him on the wedding list!
Ill put him on the wedding list!
Ill get him and I will not miss.
Now, as Im coming for you,
All I see is rudi.
I die with him, again and again.
And Ill feel good in my revenge.
Im gonna fill your head with lead
And Im coming for you!
And when its all over youll roll over
The butt of my gun:
One in your belly, and one for rudi.
You got what you gave by the heel of my bootie.
Bang-bang--out! like an old cherootie,
Im coming for you!
All of the headlines said passion crime:
newly weds groom shot dead
mystery man. God help the bride!
Shes a widow, all in red,
With his red still wet. she said--
She sure got him on the wedding list
Ill got him on the wedding list!
Ill got him and I will not miss.
Ill put him on the wedding list!
And after she shot the guy,
She committed suicide.
Im coming, rudi!
And later, when they analysed,
They found a little one inside.
It must have been rudis child.
I shot, I shot, I shot him honey!
Never mind, she got the guy.
He hit the ground, rudi!
An eye for an eye.
Ashes to ashes...
Eye for an eye.
I hit him, hit him
Rudi!, rudi!
Im coming coming coming honey
Eye for an eye.
Rudi!
song performed by by Kate Bush

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Utilitarians
You mislead me into believing that I am invited to this
Wedding party, I do not demand that i be furnished a copy of the wedding invitation
With my name on it, trusting you that the invitation is true,
So when I handed my gift to the bride and the groom
their
Eyes ask for my name and well,
thank me for the gift
When the truth is you are only interested for the free
Ride that I have given
for all three of you, liars!
the bride and groom do not even know my name
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Most Unusual Wedding
Because the bridegroom couldn’t be found
the bride was driven continually around.
Dickie and Melanie were marrying in style;
the first chimpanzees to walk down the aisle.
A reception at the classiest hotel Torbay,
followed by a honeymoon in Zimbabwe.
The best-man also named Dickie was with the groom,
but in a nearby hospital waiting room.
Earlier that morning there had been an accident,
which left the groom’s legs broken and bent.
The best-man phoned Melanie to let her know,
so off to the hospital she did quickly go.
With both legs now in traction and suffering with pain,
Dickie the groom did his best to explain.
He also suggested that the wedding should go ahead
and she should marry the best-man instead.
Abhorred by what her beloved fiancé had said,
she exclaimed, 'that chimp', she would never wed.
However, by the time he had finished to explain,
she accepted the proposal as simple and plain.
She went outside and put it to the best-man,
and he reluctantly agreed to the plan.
They returned to the church and spoke to the vicar,
who agreed to a proxy without a bicker.
The wedding and reception went without a hitch
but the trip to Zimbabwe had to be ditched.
At the reception, the bride explained the situation,
and thanked the best-man for his co-operation.
The proxy groom stood up and nervously said,
that he would’ve swopped the ceremony for a hospital bed,
and that one of the things in life that he was always dreading
was the thought of being a spare Dickie, at a monkeys wedding.
poem by Orlando Belo

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Groom
What do you
want to say
and for whom
No body is here
If you so like
You can go to the doom
If you are not groom.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Renaissance Wedding
Standing where I am
With the many lords and knights
As well as the many ladies and mages
We all smile, nod, and understand
For we know for this couple
This time's now for them
And something full of blessing is waiting
As they walk, this place is their rightful stage
It's a Renaissance Wedding
And I'm proud to be for this occasion, a knight
My costume stops at my knees
With my boots going from my feet to my knees
The cape I wear sways in the breeze
The bride and the groom say their vows to one another
The service then crowns them
And as such
The bride and the groom are now a king and queen
The king and queen thank us, the audience
For turning out to commemorate
For making everything pleasant
And so we begin to celebrate
With a great feast by the gate
All in all
It was a beautiful Renaissance Wedding
poem by Justin Gildow

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A strange e.mail from the Devil!
A groomsman is one of the male attendants to the groom in a wedding ceremony. The term usher is more common in the UK while the term 'groomsman' is considered somewhat lower-middle- class and used by those who have adopted the term from America.[citation needed] Usually the groom selects his closest friends and relatives to serve as groomsmen, and it is considered an honor to be selected. From his groomsmen, the groom usually chooses one to serve as best man.
For a wedding with many guests, the groom may also ask other male friends and relatives to act as ushers without otherwise participating in the wedding ceremony; their sole task is ushering guests to their seats before the ceremony. Ushers may also be hired for very large weddings.
In a military officer's wedding, the roles of groomsmen are replaced by swordsmen of the sword honor guard. They are usually picked as close personal friends of the groom who have served with him. Their role includes forming the traditional saber arch for the married couple and guests to walk through.
[email protected]
You'll be surprised Pen-pusher!
How I found your e.mail address,
Specially I collect bard's whereabouts
As I am very fond of poetry!
I read your profile and that's why
I am sending this invitation.
My one and only daughter marries soon
And the Bridegroom's party suggest you as a Groomsman
Because he knows you since in the Army.
Please reply us soon your availability.
-Devil de Morales
I replied him in brief.
Many thanks indeed for your valuable selection
But I have some regrets of my old Gabardine suit
Recently I wore for the Royal Wedding!
I have few rich relatives here
But they are not in good terms with me
As I am poor?
Otherwise I could have borrow one of their best suits and a Limousine!
With best regards,
Poor Pen-pusher!
for the silent bard couple Alison & Jerry!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You May Have Obtained Nama
You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!
Lord resides within you, but you couldn't discern him;
You wander aimlessly thinking him to be afar;
You calculate about the One beyond the calculations;
You limit the Illimitable
And in this state of twoness, you count your futile beads!
You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!
You try to be Harijan without having Hari!
How can pangs of hunger subside by a bash of hollow words?
How can throes of separation subside by mere donning of ascetic clothes?
It is like the futile roaring of rainless clouds!
You may have obtainednama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!
You think you have become harijan by merely singing lord's praises,
You try to rival a swan, when your deeds are those of a crow!
The lord will indeed disregard you!
You may have obtainednama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!
Says Narsinh, only he is worth our obeisance,
Whose mind has dissolved into the formless;
In whom the delusion of the world of differences is shattered
And in whom the flame of renunciation is resplendent.
You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without the groom!
poem by Narsinh Mehta

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A New Song to an Old Tune
SONS of Shannon, Tamar, Trent,
Men of the Lothians, Men of Kent,
Essex, Wessex, shore and shire,
Mates of the net, the mine, the fire,
Lads of the wheel and desk and loom,
Noble and trader, squire and groom,
Come where the bugles of England play,
'Over the hills and far away!'
Southern Cross and Polar Star --
Here are the Britons bred afar;
Serry, O serry them, fierce and keen,
Under the flag of the Empress-Queen;
Shoulder to shoulder down the track,
Where, to the unretreating Jack,
The victor bugles of England play,
'Over the hills and far away!'
What if the best of our wages be
An empty sleeve, a stiff-set knee,
A crutch for the rest of life -- who cares,
So long as the One Flag floats and dares?
So long as the One Race dares and grows?
Death -- what is death but God's own rose?
Let but the bugles of England play,
'Over the hills and far away!'
poem by William Ernest Henley

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gay Marriage For William (just For Fun)
this world opens itself to gay marriage
the gay priest presides this solemn marriage
of william to another william
and wilma to another wilma
do you william take william as your spouse
for better or for worse, in sickness and in health
till death do you part?
and william says, yes i do
and so by virtue of the authority vested in my by law
i hereby pronounce you william and william
as spouses
in the presence of your witnesses
wilma and wilma
the groom may now kiss his groom
it is not funny, it can be real as it has become real
nature keeps up with overpopulation
and goes for more copulation
between two same sexes in love with each other's sameness
life is an experiment and so love is an experiment too
love and its quivers
bodies and more bodies warming themselves
hearts fusing as one, how lovely to see?
seriously speaking, in the dark the souls keep on dating
the bodies become so irrelevant, the sexes not important
there is this kiss, this touch, these solvents of our loneliness
these glue and paste that must fill the gap
of our respective emptiness
the same goal the same purpose: we always want to be filled in full
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reason To Believe
Seen a man standin over a dead dog lyin by the highway in a ditch
Hes lookin down kinda puzzled pokin that dog with a stick
Got his car door flung open hes standin out on highway 31
Like if he stood there long enough that dogd get up and run
Struck me kinda funny seem kinda funny sir to me
At the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
Now mary lou loved johnny with a love mean and true
She said baby Ill work for you every day and bring my money home to you
One day he up and left her and ever since that
She waits down at the end of that dirt road for young johnny to come back
Struck me kinda funny seemed kind of funny sir to me
How at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
Take a baby to the river kyle william they called him
Wash the baby in the water take away little kyles sin
In a whitewash shotgun shack an old man passes away
Take his body to the graveyard and over him they pray
Lord wont you tell us tell us what does it mean
Still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
Congregation gathers down by the riverside
Preacher stands with his Bible groom stands waitin for his bride
Congregation gone and the sun sets behind a weepin willow tree
Groom stands alone and watches the river rush on so effortlessly
Lord and hes wonderin where can his baby be
Still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fidele's Grassy Tomb
The Squire sat propped in a pillowed chair,
His eyes were alive and clear of care,
But well he knew that the hour was come
To bid good-bye to his ancient home.
He looked on garden, wood, and hill,
He looked on the lake, sunny and still:
The last of earth that his eyes could see
Was the island church of Orchardleigh.
The last that his heart could understand
Was the touch of the tongue that licked his hand:
'Bury the dog at my feet,' he said,
And his voice dropped, and the Squire was dead.
Now the dog was a hound of the Danish breed,
Staunch to love and strong at need:
He had dragged his master safe to shore
When the tide was ebbing at Elsinore.
From that day forth, as reason would,
He was named 'Fidele,' and made it good:
When the last of the mourners left the door
Fidele was dead on the chantry floor.
They buried him there at his master's feet,
And all that heard of it deemed it meet:
The story went the round for years,
Till it came at last to the Bishop's ears.
Bishop of Bath and Wells was he,
Lord of the lords of Orchardleigh;
And he wrote to the Parson the strongest screed
That Bishop may write or Parson read.
The sum of it was that a soulless hound
Was known to be buried in hallowed ground:
From scandal sore the Church to save
They must take the dog from his masters grave.
The heir was far in a foreign land,
The Parson was wax to my Lord's command:
He sent for the Sexton and bade him make
A lonely grave by the shore of the lake.
The Sexton sat by the water's brink
Where he used to sit when he used to think:
He reasoned slow, but he reasoned it out,
And his argument left him free from doubt.
'A Bishop,' he said, 'is the top of his trade:
But there's others can give him a start with the spade:
Yon dog, he carried the Squire ashore,
And a Christian couldn't ha' done no more.
The grave was dug; the mason came
And carved on stone Fidele's name;
But the dog that the Sexton laid inside
Was a dog that never had lived or died.
So the Parson was praised,and the scandal stayed,
Till, a long time after, the church decayed,
And, laying the floor anew, they found
In the tomb of the Squire the bones of a hound.
As for the Bishop of Bath and Wells
No more of him the story tells;
Doubtless he lived as a Prelate and Prince,
And died and was buried a century since.
And whether his view was right or wrong
Has little to do with this my song;
Something we owe him, you must allow;
And perhaps he has changed his mind by now.
The Squire in the family chantry sleeps,
The marble still his memory keeps:
Remember, when the name you spell,
There rest Fidele's bones as well.
For the Sexton's grave you need not search,
'Tis a nameless mound by the island church:
An ignorant fellow, of humble lot---
But. he knew one thing that a Bishop did not.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Wedding
The father who sired her handed her over
the crack-handed orchestra played
The bride and the groom stood shoulder-to-shoulder
as the ill-starred wedding was made
She lifted her veil as the groom gently kissed her
and all did appear to be well
But the limousine driver heard every harsh whisper
as they drove to the country hotel
In the Grand Hotel ballroom the guests were assembling
the champagne like tapwater flowed
The men wearing top hats, and fop coats and top coats
the women in bustles and bows
The bride? jealous sister sat alone in her place
and sneered as the couple came in
The maitre-de coughed and said ?lease take your places,
the Banquet is about to begin?
The street doors burst open and an army of footman
swept in bearing salvers and trays
Fiddlers and clowns went from table to table
amid black smoke and cigarette haze
Noone saw the best man as he secretly winked
at the bride? jealous sister it seemed
And then cried out ?aiter, Bring me more drink
and more Marilyn Monroe ice-cream?
When the wine had been poured and the tables were cleared
the toasts and the speeches began
The bride and groom cut the cake, everyone cheered!
then all eyes fell on the best man.
He climbed off his chair, and he licked his cracked lips
and declared in a voice cold and dry
??he tricked and hijacked him, with guilt she trapped him
this day is a sham and a lie?
Herfather leapt up with a curse and a roar
and slew the best man in the head
The groom cried ?laggard!?and with a flash of his sword
his father-in-law fell down dead
The bride ran screaming in floods of bright tears
and collapsed at the foot of the stairs
Where her sister was waiting with scissors and shears
and hacked off every inch of her hair.
Up on the roof sat seven fat crows, the moon rose low in the west.
the groom was arrested still in his wedding clothes
And hanged in his pants and his vest
the bald-headed bride bought a ticket to Spain
And eloped with a wig-makers son
while her jealous mad sister, riven with shame
Became a nun!
song performed by by Waterboys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Jewish Wedding
Jane Doze - A Jewish Wedding
By JaneDoze
Hi, I'm Jane Doze and I have a story to tell you...
I have not been to many weddings. This one was pretty funny. My brother had poison oak and his face was swelled up so big he couldn't see out of his eyes. He had to walk around with an ice pack on his face all day. He was in the groom’s party so; he was wearing a tuxedo too!
My uncle was confused and said to me during the ceremony, ' I didn't know we were Jewish? ' I had to tell him that we aren't.
It all went by pretty fast actually. The Rabbi had the Bride and Groom sign the papers and then everyone had to pose for pictures.
I reflected how weeks before, I had helped one of the maids of honor make the party favors.
She took Hershey’s kisses and taped them together to make roses. They turned out really good. There was one on every plate in the reception room. I was so proud to have helped.
When the pictures were finally over, we all were so hungry and happy to go inside. As we approached the reception room, someone came out into the hall and said to the Bride, ' The Rabbi has eaten all the party favors! '
The Bride said to the Groom, ' See, I told you something bad would happen. It always does, even after all the wedding planning! '
She was a pretty good sport. The Bride had someone escort the Rabbi to his car, while her bridesmaids went and tried to arrange what was left of the party favors. They placed them into vases, a few here, and a few there.
Then, the Bride and Groom cut the cake to the music of the mission impossible theme. They even wore goggles and bibs. It was an awesome day even though my brother couldn't see a thing.
Moral to the Story: Never leave a Rabbi in a room full of temptation
poem by Patricia Dobrosipearson

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Grooms Still Waiting At The Altar
Prayed in the ghetto with my face in the cement,
Heard the last moan of a boxer, seen the massacre of the innocent
Felt around for the light switch, became nauseated.
She was walking down the hallway while the walls deteriorated.
East of the jordan, hard as the rock of gibraltar,
I see the burning of the page, curtain risin on a new age,
See the groom still waitin at the altar.
Try to be pure at heart, they arrest you for robbery,
Mistake your shyness for aloofness, your shyness for snobbery,
Got the message this morning, the one that was sent to me
About the madness of becomin what one was never meant to be.
West of the jordan, east of the rock of gibraltar,
I see the burning of the stage,
Curtain risin on a new age,
See the groom still waitin at the altar.
Dont know what I can say about claudette that wouldnt come back to haunt me,
Finally had to give her up bout the time she began to want me.
But I know God has mercy on them who are slandered and humiliated.
Id a-done anything for that woman if she didnt make me feel so obligated.
West of the jordan, west of the rock of gibraltar,
I see the burning of the cage,
Curtain risin on a new stage,
See the groom still waitin at the altar.
Put your hand on my head, baby, do I have a temperature?
I see people who are supposed to know better standin around like furniture.
Theres a wall between you and what you want and you got to leap it,
Tonight you got the power to take it, tomorrow you wont have the power to
Keep it.
West of the jordan, east of the rock of gibraltar,
I see the burning of the stage, curtain risin on a new age,
See the groom still waitin at the altar.
Cities on fire, phones out of order,
Theyre killing nuns and soldiers, theres fighting on the border.
What can I say about claudette?
Aint seen her since january,
She could be respectably married or running a whorehouse in buenos aires.
West of the jordan, west of the rock of gibraltar,
I see the burning of the stage,
Curtain risin on a new age,
See the groom still waitin at the altar.
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The First Miracle (Bible Poems for Children)
The wedding party had begun,
Mary looked for Jesus, her
son.
They had ran out of wine,
The wedding party could not
dine.
She asked Jesus, solve this
somehow,
He simply said, my time is
not now.
His mothers face was all
gloom,
As he looked across the room.
Six empty jars in corner sat,
Jesus said. fetch me that.
Fill with water, bring to me,
New wine for the crowd to see.
The bride grooms father, first
to taste,
He told the crowd in haste.
The best wine I've ever had,
The bride groom was, no longer
sad.
The wedding party lasted all
night,
The bride and groom, smiled in
delight.
poem by Heather Burns

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!