The Crystal Lady

The Poet's Corner

 

Funny Little Poems  To Make You Smile

Alphabet Soup
by Joan Estelle High
©2003

 We are always able abettors, accessing attitudes about anything
We belittle beggars, because beings basically behave better
We can conclude calling companions, could chance coldness.
We don't dare dally daily doing depressing dreadful deeds.

We entertain exotic ecstasy expecting external enlightenment.
We find false faults for family factors forever faintly familiar.
We give golden gifts gladly, gaining good garlands gratefully.
We have hope heaven has happy halos hovering harmlessly.

We imagine ignorant idiots illogically illustrating immured ids.
We join joyful jamborees jauntily jumping junior jockeys.
We keep knight's kismet kindly, keeping kinship kinetic.
We love long life, liberty, lager, little lambs, love, lobsters.

We mourn mothers, money, Machiavellian mandates mostly.
We notice nasty naked natives  naughtily napping nowadays.
We obey obligations obnoxiously obstinately offered off hand.
We provide progress pass pumpkin people praising peace.

We question quaint quivering quests quickly quietly quashed.
We run randomly rapidly recklessly radiantly racing rabbits.
We stay stagnant, struggling sacrilegiously, saddled so sadly.
We try the time tables taking tainted tactics too tenderly.

We understand ugly ultimate umbrage unbalances usually.
We visualize vagrant vacillating vacuous vulgarity viciously.
We wonder what wacky wonderful waltzes we will warrant.
We X-ray, X-rated,  Xanthocioid, Xeroxing Xebecs.

We yearn, yammer, yawn, yelp , yielding yellow yams.
We zap, zigzagging zany zealots, zestfully zonking zebras.

Late Night Radio
by Joan Estelle High
©Sept.2003

 My loving husband gave me this dire warning.
He would divorce me first thing in the morning.

"Why, dear, what is the matter, "I quickly replied.
"I'm sick of that darn radio, I am fit to be tied.

Pyramids, Bermuda Triangles, Saucer and all,
Psychics, Occultists and assorted screwball.

Warlocks and preachers, plus a hit man or two.
I've listen so long that my ears are turned blue.

Enough already, or you won't be happy or glad.
When your darn old radio has driven me mad.

When your Prince Charming has turned into a toad.
And flush  that darn radio down our commode."


The Planets Lullaby
By Joan Estelle High
©1994 

Off we go to Venus, Mercury and Mars.
We dance across the Milky Way and skip across the stars.
We rest a while on Jupiter and play on Saturn's rings.
Uranus plays the violin, while Father Neptune signs.
Snow ball fights on Pluto, make craters on the Moon.
Pegasus flies through the night, but he brings us home too soon.
We try to catch a comet's tail, but we are just too slow.
We hate to leave but we know that it is really time to go.
The night is slowly fading and the dawn is coming soon.
Next time we will take our lunch, and eat yogurt on the Moon.


 Song playing is "I wanna Dance"

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