Nancy Manxome Wifle
The Manxome little Minx
Stood beneath illustrious Boa-bob tree
She scratched her left butt cheek
With grazed grass stained knees
Stared pon the ghostly forms gibbering with fear
That Nancy (her name) might manhandle their ears
And drag them petrified, within her Boa-bob bar
Unvisited by good-folk... being so far
Within a dusted deserted dessert dry plane
Exhausted generosity, she was repeating again
On meringue peach dust, must run for their freedom
Avoiding the clutches, of most the dreaded kingdom
Gunshot start! ...
The banshee chase... As spirits in fear race off again
The pursuit was a violent fearfilled reign
Escaping her clutches, unashamed unabashed
The result was a grizzly, grassfilled dash
Spiritless, hopeless, hapless no lie
Till Nancy little Minxie, did wiffle by
And grabbing the sweet candy, she did so desire
Dragging her victim, to Hell by her Boa-bob fire
Spirit screamed, twas a sordid, torturous affair
Then Nancy Manxome Minxie re-emerged
Brushing her hair
poem by Karen Sinclair
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Related quotes
My Spouse Nancy
'Husband, husband, cease your strife,
Nor longer idly rave, Sir;
Tho' I am your wedded wife
Yet I am not your slave, Sir.'
'One of two must still obey,
Nancy, Nancy;
Is it Man or Woman, say,
My spouse Nancy?'
'If 'tis still the lordly word,
Service and obedience;
I'll desert my sov'reign lord,
And so, good bye, allegiance!'
'Sad shall I be, so bereft,
Nancy, Nancy;
Yet I'll try to make a shift,
My spouse Nancy.'
'My poor heart, then break it must,
My last hour I am near it:
When you lay me in the dust,
Think how you will bear it.'
'I will hope and trust in Heaven,
Nancy, Nancy;
Strength to bear it will be given,
My spouse Nancy.'
'Well, Sir, from the silent dead,
Still I'll try to daunt you;
Ever round your midnight bed
Horrid sprites shall haunt you!'
'I'll wed another like my dear
Nancy, Nancy;
Then all hell will fly for fear,
My spouse Nancy.'
poem by Robert Burns
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On My Wife's Birth-Day
'Tis Nancy's birth-day--raise your strains,
Ye nymphs of the Parnassian plains,
And sing with more than usual glee
To Nancy, who was born for me.
Tell the blythe Graces as they bound,
Luxuriant in the buxom round;
They're not more elegantly free,
Than Nancy, who was born for me.
Tell royal Venus, tho' she rove,
The queen of the immortal grove,
That she must share her golden fee
With Nancy, who was born for me.
Tell Pallas, tho' th'Athenian school,
And ev'ry trite pedantic fool,
On her to place the palm agree,
'Tis Nancy's, who was born for me.
Tell spotless Dian, tho' she range,
The regent of the up-land grange,
In chastity she yields to thee,
O Nancy, who was born for me.
Tell Cupid, Hymen, and tell Jove,
With all the pow'rs of life and love,
That I'd disdain to breathe or be,
If Nancy was not born for me.
poem by Christopher Smart
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Neglectful Edward
Nancy
'Edward back from the Indian Sea,
What have you brought for Nancy?'
Edward
'A rope of pearls and a gold earring,
And a bird of the East that will not sing.
A carven tooth, a box with a key--'
Nancy
'God be praised you are back,' says she,
'Have you nothing more for your Nancy?'
Edward
'Long as I sailed the Indian Sea
I gathered all for your fancy:
Toys and silk and jewels I bring,
And a bird of the East that will not sing:
What more can you want, dear girl, from me?'
Nancy
'God be praised you are back,' said she,
'Have you nothing better for Nancy?'
Edward
'Safe and home from the Indian Sea,
And nothing to take your fancy?'
Nancy
'You can keep your pearls and your gold earring,
And your bird of the East that will not sing,
But, Ned, have you nothing more for me
Than heathenish gew-gaw toys?' says she,
'Have you nothing better for Nancy?'
poem by Robert Graves
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A Song For Two Children
'Make a song, father, a new little song,
All for Jenny and Nancy.'
Balow lalow or Hey derry down,
Or else what might you fancy?
Is there any song sweet enough
For Nancy and for Jenny?
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
'Indeed I know not any.'
'I've counted the miles to Babylon,
I've flown the earth like a bird,
I've ridden cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
But no such song have I heard.'
'Some speak of Alexander,
And some of Hercules,
But where are there any like Nancy and Jenny,
Where are there any like these?'
poem by Robert Graves
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Wicked Witch from the West
(parody to tune of the Beatles “Lady Madonna”)
Nancy Pelosi, looking none too sweet
If we paid for your face lift, hope you kept the receipts.
Who pays out the money for your private jet?
Don’t think that is helping the environment.
Your face pulled tighter than a tambourine skin
Your botox treatment botched and overdone
You’ve got a face that terrifies small children
See how they run! !
Nancy Pelosi, the taxpayers oppressed
as you donate their savings to the “poor distressed”.
Nancy Pelosi, lying to the press
seems there’s a “for rent” sign hanging round your breasts
Your sense of self importance is unending
Too bad impeachment papers never come
your reign of error shortly will be ending.
Run, blue dogs, run!
Nancy Pelosi, the taxpayers oppressed
as you donate their savings to the “poor distressed”.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Artist Nancy Waller
I remember hearing a voice,
“go down this road”, was the first choice.
The road 42nd West, in south Minneapolis.
Great visual artist I would meet,
She drew endangered species detailed and neat.
Nancy Waller was her name,
She published booklets on endangered species
to help bring about awareness and change.
Melodie my doll, loved her most of all.
She went to her see her at the museum,
took photos with her that where very pleasing.
Melodie was happy for Nancy designed,
coloring books of Melodie just cute and fine.
Nancy got my books off to a great start,
she inspired me and has a pure heart.
Thank you Nancy for inspiration and passion too,
you’re a great artist, through and through.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Love Kills
Sid was a punk rock king
Nancy was a broken queen
Their lives were so glamorous
Sid and Nancy were a mess
When you're hooked on heroin
Don't you know you'll never win
Drugs don't ever pay
You really did it your way
Love kills
Love kills
Love kills
We still believe in anarchy
It makes me so damn angry
Sid and Nancy meant a lot to me
You may be dead but your souls are free
Like Romeo and Juliet
You two made a pact of death
Like the needle that ya used
Sid and Nancy were born to lose
Love kills
Love kills
Love kills
Sid never meant any harm
He shot some dope into his arm
All he wanted was some fun
Now she's lying in a pool of blood
Always loaded
song performed by by Ramones from Animal Boy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was a big Nancy Drew reader. Nancy figures it out. Case closed.
quote by Sarah Vowell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beast: Chapter Two
She walked through the door
looking back only to see him fade
into the crowd of students
pouring across the plaza in front of the auditorium.
She watched him recede
vowing
that she would make a point of finding out
more about him.
There was the freshman boat ride in a few days
there was her next opportunity.
Suddenly a voice said:
'Wow, that was chemistry
if I have ever seen chemistry.'
It was Nancy, Nicole's roommate.
They had first met only the day before
when Nicole had arrived at the college for the week long orientation
which included of course
meeting one's roommate.
Nancy was already there in the room
when Nicole arrived her bags in hand
looking to see where she would she might spend the next four years of her life.
The two eyed each other momentarily
quickly sizing each other up after some long seconds
deciding that they liked one another.
Nancy was there on an academic scholarship
just like Nicole and they had been paired together
probably because they had somethings in common.
They seemed to be each other's type,
studious, quiet
and had settled in with each other comfortably.
Nancy falling in beside Nicole
was talking and saying:
'Who was that beautiful blond guy you were talking to. When he put his hands on you I almost died.'
Nancy was gushing.
'Blond? ' Nicole said, blankly? 'Who are you talking about? '
'You know the big blond who opened the door for you looking deep deep into your eyes, ' Nancy said giving Nicole her best dreamy-eyed girl look.
Nicole looked at her again blankly finally saying.
'He was no blond. Didn't see any blond.'
Then with a shock Nicole realized that in her mind's eye recounting Nancy's blond and the Beast guy shifted back and forth between the tall blond Nancy was going on about and her guy, her ugly guy.
Nicole stopped cold on the street.
'What the hell is going on here? ' she thought to herself.
'Did he have a red vest on? ' she finally asked Nancy.
'Yes, that is the one? ' Nancy answered quickly.
The blond in Nicole's vision did have a red vest on but, her Beast did not.
It was naturally a black vest.
Nicole stopped, her mouth dropping, at her own thoughts.
Nancy touched her arm.
'Are you alright? '
To be continued
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Artist Nancy Waller
I remember hearing a voice,
"go down this road", was the first choice.
The road 42nd West, in south Minneapolis.
Great visual artist I would meet,
She drew endangered species detailed and neat.
Nancy Waller was her name,
She published booklets on endangered species
to help bring about awareness and change.
Melodie my doll, loved her most of all.
She went to her see her at the museum,
took photos with her that where very pleasing.
Melodie was happy for Nancy designed,
coloring books of Melodie just cute and fine.
Nancy got my books off to a great start,
she inspired me and has a pure heart.
Thank you Nancy for inspiration and passion too,
you're a great artist, through and through
Written by Suzae Chevailer on September 9,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Nancy Drew was always changing her outfits. I despised girls' clothing, I couldn't wait to get home from school and get out of it. The last thing I wanted to read was minute descriptions of Nancy's frocks.
quote by Alison Bechdel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everybody that loves Nancy loves it in a slightly condescending way. Nancy is comics reduced to their most elemental level.
quote by Bill Griffith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Yarn of the Nancy Bell
'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Ramsgate span,
That I found alone on a piece of stone
An elderly naval man.
His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
And weedy and long was he,
And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
In a singular minor key:
"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."
And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,
Till I really felt afraid,
For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
And so I simply said:
"Oh, elderly man, it's little I know
Of the duties of men of the sea,
And I'll eat my hand if I understand
However you can be
"At once a cook, and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."
Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which
Is a trick all seamen larn,
And having got rid of a thumping quid,
He spun this painful yarn:
"'Twas in the good ship NANCY BELL
That we sailed to the Indian Sea,
And there on a reef we come to grief,
Which has often occurred to me.
"And pretty nigh all the crew was drowned
(There was seventy-seven o' soul),
And only ten of the NANCY'S men
Said 'Here!' to the muster-roll.
"There was me and the cook and the captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig.
"For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink,
Till a-hungry we did feel,
So we drawed a lot, and, accordin' shot
The captain for our meal.
"The next lot fell to the NANCY'S mate,
And a delicate dish he made;
Then our appetite with the midshipmite
We seven survivors stayed.
"And then we murdered the bo'sun tight,
And he much resembled pig;
Then we wittled free, did the cook and me,
On the crew of the captain's gig.
"Then only the cook and me was left,
And the delicate question, 'Which
Of us two goes to the kettle?' arose,
And we argued it out as sich.
"For I loved that cook as a brother, I did,
And the cook he worshipped me;
But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed
In the other chap's hold, you see.
"'I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says TOM;
'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be, -
'I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I;
And 'Exactly so,' quoth he.
"Says he, 'Dear JAMES, to murder me
Were a foolish thing to do,
For don't you see that you can't cook ME,
While I can - and will - cook YOU!'
"So he boils the water, and takes the salt
And the pepper in portions true
(Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot.
And some sage and parsley too.
"'Come here,' says he, with a proper pride,
Which his smiling features tell,
''T will soothing be if I let you see
How extremely nice you'll smell.'
"And he stirred it round and round and round,
And he sniffed at the foaming froth;
When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals
In the scum of the boiling broth.
"And I eat that cook in a week or less,
And - as I eating be
The last of his chops, why, I almost drops,
For a wessel in sight I see!
"And I never larf, and I never smile,
And I never lark nor play,
But sit and croak, and a single joke
I have - which is to say:
"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig!'"
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Nancy
It seems so long ago,
Nancy was alone,
Looking ate the late late show
Through a semi-precious stone.
In the house of honesty
Her father was on trial,
In the house of mystery
There was no one at all,
There was no one at all.
It seems so long ago,
None of us were strong;
Nancy wore green stockings
And she slept with everyone.
She never said shed wait for us
Although she was alone,
I think she fell in love for us
In nineteen sixty one,
In nineteen sixty one.
It seems so long ago,
Nancy was alone,
A forty five beside her head,
An open telephone.
We told her she was beautiful,
We told her she was free
But none of us would meet her in
The house of mystery,
The house of mystery.
And now you look around you,
See her everywhere,
Many use her body,
Many comb her hair.
In the hollow of the night
When you are cold and numb
You hear her talking freely then,
Shes happy that youve come,
Shes happy that youve come.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seems So Long Ago, Nancy
It seems so long ago,
Nancy was alone,
Looking ate the late late show
Through a semi-precious stone.
In the house of honesty
Her father was on trial,
In the house of mystery
There was no one at all,
There was no one at all.
It seems so long ago,
None of us were strong;
Nancy wore green stockings
And she slept with everyone.
She never said shed wait for us
Although she was alone,
I think she fell in love for us
In nineteen sixty one,
In nineteen sixty one.
It seems so long ago,
Nancy was alone,
A forty five beside her head,
An open telephone.
We told her she was beautiful,
We told her she was free
But none of us would meet her in
The house of mystery,
The house of mystery.
And now you look around you,
See her everywhere,
Many use her body,
Many comb her hair.
In the hollow of the night
When you are cold and numb
You hear her talking freely then,
Shes happy that youve come,
Shes happy that youve come.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Calm was the even, and clear was the sky
Calm was the even, and clear was the sky,
And the new budding flowers did spring,
When all alone went Amyntas and I
To hear the sweet nightingale sing;
I sate, and he laid him down by me;
But scarcely his breath he could draw;
For when with a fear, he began to draw near,
He was dash'd with A ha ha ha ha!
He blush'd to himself, and lay still for a while,
And his modesty curb'd his desire;
But straight I convinc'd all his fear with a smile,
Which added new flames to his fire.
O Silvia, said he, you are cruel,
To keep your poor lover in awe;
Then once more he press'd with his hand to my breast,
But was dash'd with A ha ha ha ha!
I knew 'twas his passion that caus'd all his fear;
And therefore I pitied his case:
I whisper'd him softly, there's nobody near,
And laid my cheek close to his face:
But as he grew bolder and bolder,
A shepherd came by us and saw;
And just as our bliss we began with a kiss,
He laugh'd out with A ha ha ha ha!
poem by John Dryden
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Nancy
I am at the entrance of the valley of love,
But whose daughter is this girl? !
I am the entrance of love with a joyful song of flute and tambourines,
But i do love her like myself.
Oh Nancy, love and kindness will lead you everywhere!
And, understanding and patience will always lead you too.
Nancy, you are the only forest on top of this mountain;
And anywhere in the world we will swing on this love forever.
The message of love is what i bring to you and,
Somewhere in this forest is your sweet love hidden;
For your love is like an alloted time to me.
I am at the entrance of your sweet love and,
I will not shoot anyone in this forest;
For this sweet love is all that i have between you and i.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Aunt Fritzi II
always there, when-
ever Nancy came home from gallivanting with Sluggo
that sometime visitor from the other side of the tracks,
sitting vigilant, reading the paper
in smiling deference to Pascal's advice
to dodge unhappiness by sitting quietly in a small chair; what,
by lamplight was she reading, forever? The obits
the classifieds? maybe the funnies?
Anyhow Nancy, hush,
wash your ears, strap on your training bra, and
by the way, forget your allowance, you're grounded
till your homework's done, corrected to perfection,
or better, go to bed. TV,
that influential new medium, might as well be orbiting
the earth with Sputnik as far as your concerned.
The trouble started here,
and you, Fritzi, brilliant fake, meet another.
Out of those polka dots, now, and into some black. Live!
Get a baby sitter, gam lady, make yourself smart,
I'll pick you up at eight.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Stay The Course...
Letter to a friend...
Nancy,
You shared;
'The things that are going on in the world...mostly man made'
Yes...as a result of poor choices of greed, exploitation and power over one another.
I believe that Mother Earth/Gaia too is alive and conscious. When she has taken enough abuse, she shakes us fleas off her back or drowns us. Looks like she is about to do just that.
'The Great Spirit that moves in all things' Creates and Loves, letting us grow through our good or bad choices, as well as experiences. This may take half an eternity, as time has no meaning except to man. Our sojourn here on Gaia is but a blink in Creator's Eye.
Nancy as awakening beings we must do all we can to love, help one another and be better stewards wherever we may live. This in and of itself will transform this planet, as it was Created to be.
The few evil controllers are greatly outnumbered by those awakening. Their antics and mischief ALWAYS fail. You have but to look at recorded history to see that every great/corrupt civilization has eventually self-destructed. As the World bully USA is presently going through self destruction.
You and I are here to serve as witness and to help usher in peace and harmony...stay the course and don't give up!
Peace,
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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One Thing Leads To Another
The wind blows pure- unpolluted...
My blinking eyes see signs of Grace...
The fluff from the clouds temporarily disappears...
And give the mysterious woods-a face;
The purple dawn awakens all of my senses...
As the brillant lemon-orange rises in the East-
A gentle sigh from a past shadow whispers a single breath-
While a raging thunder builds as a mighty beast;
Morning secrets travel to and through to Grace...
As Mother Natures wings listen to the thunders rolling roars-
While in the depths of the mountain- a victim prays for no rain...
Outside 'tis sparkling, as the Autumns frosts of yore;
The future past lies not in the Winter to come...
Nor even in the Springs rain or Eastertide blooms...
For she 'tis awaiting shortly there after, for us-
In the 'Grace of love' at Summertimes warm noon;
Dedicated to: ' Nancy Grace'-HLN-***
To her mother: Elizabeth who was released from the hospital.
Prayers are answered Nancy!
In Honor of Nancy's Birthday coming up: October 23,2009.
In Honor of Her Miracle Twins Birthday coming: November 4,2009.
Do not miss out on her book: The Eleventh Victim...It is wonderful! ! ! !
It is a must read! ! ! !
October 9,2009
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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