Poems for PBK: Volume 6

Despite what's going on in my life, this inspiration has lit a strong fire. I feel like, of all the ideas I've had, this one is special.

In any case, please go check out the Pocketbooks for Kids Event

Go to Volume 1

Go back to Volume 5

The Lack-of-Pattern Jack-o-Lantern

The lack-of-pattern Jack-o-Lantern,

So deformed the candle won’t burn,

So ugly it makes your head turn,

And causes your stomach to churn.

The pumpkin was found wrapped in vines,

Gnarled, twisted in their designs,

They would not budge for pitchfork tines,

It even made the local headlines.

Despite its shape they carved a face,

Though each part looked out of place.

Picasso thought it’s a disgrace,

Just leave it there without a trace.

The Fought-In-Daily Motte-and-Bailey

The fought-in-daily motte-and-bailey,

Put up your dukes, let’s fight then shall we,

Let’s bar no holds and melee gaily,

In this fort that’s fought in daily.

There’s no admission and there are no rules,

Fight in masses or partake in duels,

Settling with talking is left to the fools,

Just make sure you have your combat tools.

It’s only for warriors that are tough,

The fisticuffs are bloody and rough,

There's no one there to tell you, “Enough!”,

So make sure you have the Right Stuff.

The Agrarian Barbarian

The Agrarian Barbarian,

Is married to a librarian,

She’s lovely, her name is Marian,

And she taught him to be an agrarian.

It helps him to control his rage,

After all, she found him in a cage.

He was put there by The Stage Mage,

For breaking his performing stage.

Now he gardens, tills, and deadheads,

He planted it all in big flower beds,

He’s done with fighting, bashing in heads,

Now he sows and starts up homesteads.

The Dealing-Laugh Healing Salve

The dealing-laugh healing salve,

Will heal you up but let you have,

A wild guffaw, now that’s a laugh,

Bringing joy, well that’s its craft.

You’ll chuckle, snort, and bust your gut,

There’s no chance that your mouth will shut,

You’ll laugh so hard I’ll tell you what,

You’ll fall right down onto your butt.

It was crafted by a man from Philly,

Who’s named The Still-Silly Hillbilly,

You’ll feel just fine albeit silly,

Just close your eyes cause it’s quite swilly.

The Buttered-Better Studded Leather

The buttered-better studded leather,

Not the armor for any weather,

Birds will come and lose a feather,

Then they will get stuck together.

In the hot sun, the butter will cook,

Those nearby will give you a look,

As if though they are forsook,

Wondering what you had partook.

It’s studded though to give you protection,

Its craftsmanship was mastered perfection,

Basted in a savory confection,

An easily overlooked imperfection.

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Thank you so much for reading. Please like, comment, and share. I hope you have a wonderful day….[[|:-)